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Father Jon gave Jennifer two names and numbers. After talking with both clinics, she chose the Beacon-East Counseling Center in Birmingham, Michigan. She liked that Beacon-East had both psychologists and psychiatrists on staff. A Saturday appointment was scheduled for the weekend following her phone call. She was now driving east on Maple toward Birmingham.
Birmingham was an upscale suburb of Detroit. Upscale retailers chose Birmingham for a downtown location, especially following the retail abandonment of downtown Detroit after the 1967 riot. Birmingham has many fine retail shops, restaurants, coffeehouses, art galleries, and theaters.
The city also had many beautiful residential communities and office complexes contained within and surrounding its downtown. Beacon-East was located on Brown Street, two quick right turns from the corner of Maple and South Woodward, Downtown Birmingham’s main cross streets. Jennifer spotted the building and the clinic sign as soon as she turned onto Brown. She pulled the Tahoe into the parking lot of the clinic. The kids had not uttered a single word for the entire trip. This morning, she sat the boys down and told them they were going to see a doctor to find out why they were so upset. Neither was thrilled with the idea of seeing what Kenny called a “shrink,” but Mom insisted.
Beacon-East was an ultra-modern white-and-glass single-story office building. There were multiple psychiatrists and psychologists listed on the occupant roster. Their appointment was with Harold Rothenberg, M.D., Ph.D. Jennifer walked up to his office counter. A sliding glass window, adjacent to a locked door, separated the waiting room from the clinic. The receptionist greeted her pleasantly and handed her a questionnaire to complete. The only highlighted portion of the questionnaire was payer and insurance information. She finished the form, returned it to the receptionist, and took a seat. Kenny and Jake busied themselves with a couple of Highlights magazines. She was grateful they were alone in the waiting room.
After a short wait, the locked door opened, and a tall, balding man with a flowing white, Santa Claus–type beard asked them to follow him back. Jennifer rose, collected the kids, and followed the man to a smallish room that contained a tiny desk and chair, a recliner, and a couch. There were diplomas, association membership plaques, awards, and certification notices all over the walls. Jennifer took the recliner. The boys jumped on the couch. Santa Claus, to Jennifer’s surprise, introduced himself as Dr. Rothenberg and inquired, “What seems to be the problem? How can I help you?”
Jennifer told him about the camping trip, the boys’ school situation, and their recent strange behavior. In a series of questions and answers, Dr. Rothenberg also learned about Jim’s death and Father Bill’s sudden departure. After exchanging a few more questions for answers, Dr. Rothenberg asked Jennifer if he might talk to the boys alone. Kenny shrugged, ‘I don’t care,’ and Jake was okay with whatever his brother wanted. Jennifer and Dr. Rothenberg rose. The doctor escorted Jennifer back to the waiting room and told her that he expected the session to last approximately forty-five minutes.
Forty-five minutes seemed like forever, and when the kids finally came out, Dr. Rothenberg summoned Jennifer in. The boys resumed their Highlights reading.
“Sit down, please, Mrs. Tracey.”
“Oh, call me Jenny, please,” she smiled, taking the recliner.
“Okay, Jenny. This is not a school-bullying situation. Your boys are extremely upset about something that happened on that camping trip. I could not get them to talk about the trip, but the mere mention of it sends Jake into hysterics. It may take several sessions to obtain their trust. I recommend twice per week sessions for now. Hopefully, we can build a trust relationship and learn as much as we can as soon as we can.”
“Sounds okay to me, Doctor.” He has a gentle nature. “May I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.”
“Based on this session and seeing how upset they are, to use your term, do you have any preliminary thoughts on what may have caused their recent behavior? Do you know if they . . . what happened?”
“Fair question and one that I’d ask if these were my children. Any answer would be no more than a guess at this point. Hopefully, after a few sessions, we’ll have some answers.”
“Is there anything I can do at home?”
“Hugs, kisses, and lots of love,” Dr. Rothenberg smiled.
I like this man.
“Here’s my card. It has my office number, cell phone, and my home number. If anything happens and you need to talk, call me anytime, day or night.”
“Thanks again, Doctor. We’ll see you next week.” Jennifer was relieved.
“Good-bye, Jennifer.”
Almost immediately after Jennifer left the office, the telephone in Dr. Rothenberg’s office rang.
***
“Good morning, Dr. Rothenberg here.”
“Good morning, Dr. Rothenberg,” the Voice chirped.
“What can I do for you?” Rothenberg grumbled.
“How did your session with the Tracey boys go?”
“How did you know the session was over?” Are these people monitoring my office?
“Nothing covert, Doctor. The appointment was for eleven. It’s now noon. You told me sessions last an hour,” The Voice reasoned. “So, again, how did the session go?”
“It went as expected. The boys don’t trust me and won’t for a while. Hopefully, in time, I’ll be able to gain their trust and be of some assistance to them and the church.” Rothenberg calmed. I am a professional. I need to behave like one.
“How much time?”
“It’s impossible to say. This varies from patient to patient. In this case, though, I have an advantage.”
“What’s that?”
“I already know what’s bothering them.”
“True, so what’s the prognosis?”
“These are tough cases. It may take months, even years, to resolve feelings of pain and betrayal. A priest is a father figure. The betrayal of trust is enormous, and it takes a long time to rebuild that trust. There are also sexual components. These will manifest themselves as the boys become more sexually aware. Time will tell whether this impacts their sexuality or how they respond to sexual situations. Degree is a factor. In this case, your team has advised that we are dealing with lower-level trauma. While that’s a positive, this is not an exact science, and kids react to different things in different ways. Whatever the case, I will do my best to help them.”
“We know you will. That’s why we chose you. Keep me posted.” I will have measured control of this situation. He is loyal to the church.
“That, I cannot do.”
“What?” Have I lost control? The Voice was stunned.
“I cannot keep you posted.”
“No? Why not?”
“Doctor-patient privilege and confidentiality. It’s very similar to the priest-penitent privilege.”
“But the church retained your services, not the Tracey family. Doesn’t that change the privilege dynamic? After all, it’s our money.”
“The privilege belongs to the patient, regardless of who is paying the bill.”
The Voice silently seethed.
“Look,” Dr. Rothenberg continued, “I promised you when you retained me that I would do my very best to help these boys as discreetly as possible. I intend to keep that promise, but I will not violate doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Understood, Doctor.” The Coalition would monitor all sessions anyway.
Somehow he makes ‘understood’ sound like ‘fuck you.’ “Anything else?” Rothenberg wondered.
“Not at this time, Doctor. Thank you and good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
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