Baby Teeth

TW: mental health and physical harm

“As we expand into the Northwest division in Q3, we anticipate grabbing 15% of market share by…”

Jeff’s looked attentive and nodded at the right times, but his consciousness walked down an alley he’d known as a boy, just enough porchlight to see the way forward. Crickets chirped. He looked up to the Milky Way and-

“Jeff, what are your thoughts?”

He blinked the stars away and monologued for a few minutes about why the expansion was a good idea. His boss’ frozen face slowly ratcheted into an expression of jubilance. Board members shared hopeful glances, and agreed a few minutes later to move forward. But it had almost been a disaster.

After work, Jeff told Dr. Leuchte about the unwelcome daydreaming.

“An empty nest reminds us of all the times in life we’ve felt alone. I know it happened when my kids moved out, and I know that wandering the night as a child must have been frightening. I want you to try something that I haven’t asked you to do before: I want you to close your eyes.”

He obliged.  

“Now imagine yourself as a small child of five years.”

He saw the inside of his eyelids.

“How does that child feel about this memory?”

Still nothing.

“I think my inner child was kidnapped. I don’t remember anything else from that time."

“There are other approaches we can try. Maybe you’re not ready to see him or remember yet, and that’s OK. There’s no deadline for this work.”

All he could do was nod and hope that she was right.

He walked through the door ready to tell his wife about the day's business victory, but she wasn't home. Grace spent a lot of time away now that she could freely come and go. He encouraged her, but in therapy, he had realized her absence made him feel abandoned. Where did that feeling come from? He remembered being alone a lot as a kid, but his mother and stepfather had always been just out of sight, at work or happy hour, perhaps visiting with friends.

He went to check his email but hers was already open, and instead of closing it, he looked for strange men in her inbox, then her sent messages. Aside from Don, who he knew to be 72 years old and faithfully married, no threats appeared. He was thinking of other ways to snoop when he remembered she went to yoga and dinner with a friend every Tuesday.

Grace had almost left him at one point, long ago. They had been dating for two years when he took on a traveling role. Somehow he would get lost in late-night meetings and research. Sometimes he wouldn’t call her back until the next day. She suspected infidelity, and he had solved it by taking a job in the city, proposing, and becoming an attentive husband. She wasn’t overly demanding or critical. Then the kids came along and for a few golden years, he knew what it was to love and be loved, to be whole.

Grace got home late and seemed flustered. It wasn’t worth all the trouble over his insecurities and a yoga class. They talked as usual and went to bed, but doubt poked at him until the next session.

“Do you think she’s cheating on you?”

“It’s not that I’m certain she’s cheating on me. It’s how certain I am that my life would fall apart if she were.”

“Who would you be if she were cheating on you?”

“A single loser.”

“What does a single loser do?”

“Eat TV dinners and watch game shows all night.”

“Have you ever watched a game show in your entire life?”

“No.”

“So where do you think that image comes from?”

“My father. After the divorce, he never did anything except watch TV and tell anyone who listened how rotten my mother and her family were.”

“I’m feeling a lot of compassion for your father as I listen to you talk about what must have been a very sad life.”

“That’s because you didn’t know him.”

“Have you considered the possibility that you may still be angry at your father?”

“He didn’t want the divorce. She blindsided him. If they had stayed together, they would have been happy again, and she never would have met Bill.”

She waited for him to continue for what seemed like several minutes before calling time.

“Let’s put a pin in this until next week. I’m looking forward to unpacking more of these feelings with your family, but you’ve told me a lot today and I don’t want to venture too far too soon.”

A few days later, Jeff went to Home Depot so he could redo the patio over the weekend. He accidentally put a heavy bag of concrete on top of something in the cart. The cashier didn’t see it, and he didn't go back. He felt guilty, but Home Depot wasn't going bankrupt because he'd taken some $2 zip ties. He kept it to himself the next week, and instead told her about life before the kids had moved out.

“Unlike me, they actually had a father. I helped my daughters with homework, I gave them advice about boys, I went to all of my son’s basketball games, and half the time I would cook when Grace was too tired. Now I don't know what to do with myself."

“Getting to know yourself again without kids may take a while. It's not about staying busy, it's about inner enjoyment. When I paint, I start in the morning and the next time I look up, the sun is setting. That may be a slight exaggeration, but the time flies. Do you have anything like that?

“I stay busy. But I catch your drift, I think I need a new hobby.”

“How did you spend your free time before getting married and having kids?”

“I never had much free time. I started working young and never stopped.”

“Try to think of activities that have brought you joy in the past. It’s never too late to start again and pick up where you left off.”

“Thanks, Doc. See you next week.”

Jeff sat the Tuesday evening empty house, wondering what had ever brought him joy outside of his family. He tried calling Grace. Straight to voicemail, and the same with his son. His friend Troy invited him to watch the fights, but the good ones didn’t start until 9. Having a little time to kill, he wandered over to the bookshelf, absentmindedly scanning the titles he’d enjoyed, and the ones he’d purchased and forgotten.

He picked up a hardcover copy of The Lost World, by Michael Crichton. He could vividly remember standing in the checkout line with Grace at Borders. They were newly in love. She was only interested in Jurassic Park, the movie, and had teased him for buying the sequel.

He blew the dust off, then opened the book to where he had tenderly cut the pages back so many years ago to make a hollow. He counted the money inside; just over $2000, plenty in 1995, just enough to cover the mortgage now, and not enough to start a new life if his wife never came back from yoga. 

Beneath the money were small souvenirs: a pair of earrings, a college ID, a hair tie. A tooth. If Grace had ever for some reason opened the book or knocked it off the shelf, he could always say the trinkets belonged to his first love, and the tooth belonged to one of the kids, but if you looked closely, it was too large, and the root was still attached. How would he ever explain that to her? 

Jeff closed the book and went out to meet his friend. He looked up to see the Milky Way, but it had long since been washed away in urban light. He hoped Grace would be home before him.