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Brendan just sat in his car, he knew he needed to get out and try to go about his day but that phone call had just confirmed his worst fears, his wife’s killer was going to be walking free again. How did someone that had taken the life of another serve less than two years, and then get to pick up their life and continue again? It was not fair! The anger he had been feeling for the last two weeks, knowing the possible outcome of the hearing today, had caused him insomnia, loss of appetite, and even brief moments of anger. He was giving power to this man and knew he needed to take it back. He just did not know-how. He leaned his head on the steering wheel for a moment longer, hoping that the tears, anger, and depression threatening his psyche could be quelled.
A knock at the window of his car drew his attention.
Margaret Katzen was standing outside of his vehicle, with a worried look.
Inhaling a deep breath, he slowly opened the door. As he stepped out, he tried to give himself a pep talk so as not to break down in front of Margaret completely. He was the responsible doctor coming to help finish readying the clinic on the ranch this morning. He could not have a breakdown and risk her thinking he was not able to continue his duties.
“Sorry, long night,” he said, plastering what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face. Turning back to the car he grabbed the box of items from his backseat.
“Brendan,” Margaret said, gently.
“Margaret,” he returned, trying to school his features. “Everything okay?”
“I’m pretty certain I should be asking you that question,” she said with an arched brow.
His shoulders sank. He was worried he would not be able to keep the anger or tears at bay.
“You know I have a full pot of coffee in my office,” she said, turning slightly. “Bet it would help erase some of that long night,” she said, with a sympathetic look. “And if there is something else, you need to get off your chest; I’m a good listener.”
Brendan just looked at her for a moment. He had not spoken to anyone about his wife in two years. Only her name caused the girls to break into tears and anger to surge in his gut. As Piper and Charlotte’s face rose into his mind’s eye, he knew what he needed to do.
“I probably could use someone’s help,” he whispered. “If you don’t mind?”
Margaret smiled and started walking in earnest toward the building that housed her office. No words were necessary as she left him alone with his thoughts during the short trek. Closing the door behind them when he was inside the entrance to her office, she indicated one of the two overstuffed side chairs.
“How do you like your coffee?”
“Black, please.”
She swung around and disappeared outside once again. He lowered himself into the chair and placed the box of items he carried at his feet. He was not sure how he had gotten to this place in his life, but the silence was not working. Margaret would have some real positive insights as she collaborated with the broken humans that came here all the time. If Piper’s crying and sleeplessness, and Charlotte’s behaviors were any sign, something had to give.
He looked up as Margaret closed the door behind her, and stood over him, extending a steaming mug his direction.
“I appreciate this,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.
“It’s what I do,” she said, brightly. “Tell me about it,” she gently prodded.
“You know about my wife, Catelyn, right?”
“Grandpa told me that she died in a drunk driving accident.”
“Yes, a man hit her when she was helping a child cross the road after school one day. She pushed the youngster to safety, but it was too late for her,” he said with his shoulders caving from the weight of the grief that washed over him. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
“I understand that,” Margaret chimed in, “have you spoken to anyone since it happened?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t put it into words at first, and then I moved the girls here for a change of scenery. In the last few years, I have just focused on them, but I do not know – it is like this gaping wound. It is always there in the recesses of my mind, and I just can't seem to move past it. Even when I am making progress, weeks like this happen.”
“What happened?” Margaret asked, when he did not continue.
Brendan inhaled and exhaled, not able to formulate the response at first. The tears blurred his vision, and he gripped the warm mug seeking strength. “They are releasing Catelyn’s killer,” he spat out. “Two years! He served two years and will get to pick up his life again.”
He looked up at Margaret as if she could explain to him how this had happened. Her face was empathetic and sad, a perfect mirror to which he was sure.
“I’m so sorry, Brendan,” she said. “I don’t always understand how justice works in this country, but that seems unfair.”
“Agreed! You know Piper wakes up all the time and still calls out in her sleep. She was just two when her mom left for her job at school one day and never came back. Charlotte was four and still has issues with wetting the bed and is much more introverted than she once was,” he shook his head. “And that man gets just to pick up and continue?”
“You know, I can’t even imagine what you have all been through, but maybe it’s time to consider letting the girls do some sessions with Belle,” she said lightly. “She does well with kiddos who have experienced trauma.”
Brendan looked at her long and hard; he would do anything for his girls. “If you think you could accommodate them, I am willing to try anything. I always thought they were too young when she passed to realize what was going on.”
“Children have a solid understanding of their environment, trusted sources of love, food, and shelter from an early age. Besides, this is no dig at you,” Margaret said, seeking his eyes, “They can pick up on your anger, sadness, and frustration and will try to internalize it in an effort not to cause you more worry.”
Brendan thought about that for a minute. “I’ve tried to hide it from them,” he sighed.
“From everything I have seen when you are all together at the ranch, at church, or even in town, you are a wonderful father. You are involved and try your best to be there for them,” Margaret confirmed. “This is a lot though for you to manage alone, and it appears that maybe you could just use some help. My Grandma Gracie always used to say that it takes a strong person to ask for help and a warrior to see therapy through. It might hurt more before it gets better, but I think it would be worth it for all of you,” she finished.
Brendan nodded slowly. “I don’t know if I can continue to live with this anger, eating me up. I am a great doctor and love my girls. I just want somehow to move past this and not allow it to ruin our lives anymore.”
“We can get you there. And I need you to know I am always here. Noah and Jake are great guys to bounce things off of, and we can see which therapist you work well with. We can get you through this,” Margaret confirmed.
“Thank you,” Brendan said as he rose to his feet, feeling better and just a smidge lighter. It felt better just sharing with another human that he was needed a lifeline.
“My door is always open,” Margaret said. “I have to make sure the only doctor for sixty miles is healthy and happy. We can’t have you taking off for the hills.”
“I see how it is,” Brendan said, surprising himself when he responded with a small smile, “this is just to ensure I continue my excellent work?”
“Absolutely,” Margaret retorted.
He found the smile on his face was now genuine. Margaret had that effect on everyone. She was beloved by so many in their town. He had never heard a bad word uttered about her. Her heart ran to make this tiny patch of the world better for her and the ranch by giving back to those around them. He was fortunate; this is where he chose to settle after Catelyn’s death. Taking advantage of the services the ranch had to offer and making him and his daughters feel better would be a significant side effect.
“I need to go see Nurse Holmstead at the clinic. She let me know you finished the construction and asked me to bring out supplies.”
“We are excited to have her here. Slaughtering starts in the coming days, and there are always nicks and cuts to treat, and having her on hand should make many comfortable.”
“I know. I can’t tell you how many of your hands we ended up treating a week or more after an injury last year once it got so bad and they could no longer stand it. Having her here to treat the tiny real-time nuances of the ranch, will truly make for better working conditions and morale.”
“That is our hope,” Margaret said. “I will chat with Belle while you are in the clinic and see what her thoughts are on Piper, Charlotte, and your sessions.”
“Thank you again,” Brendan said, setting his cup down and heading for the door.
