L.O.V.E. Therapy

"I'm sorry. I'm still not sure what happened."

"I hate this." She heard him swallow. "I want my wife home. We can work out what's wrong right here. We don't need to separate."

"Can you imagine how hard it is for me to believe you want me home when you barely seemed to register me when I was there before? Do you miss having someone to fill the silence or do you miss Linda?" There was a bit of acrimony in her voice.

His laugh held no humor. "If you only knew."

"Tell me. How am I supposed to know anything unless you talk to me?"

"I'm trying, Linda."

They talked on the phone, for almost an hour, both lying down on their own beds. They talked about Dennis's letter and the Homecoming Dance. About Linda's freckle. About everything and nothing.

Talking to Dennis, hearing his words, reminded her of the times when talking to him hadn't been such a rare event, but a constant. It brought back that optimistic, anything-is-possible state of mind.

CHAPTER 8

Dennis had finished painting the walls and took a couple of steps back to admire his work. He had been working on this house for almost a year. The remodeling was almost over. He had bought it for Linda with the money he had saved working at the mines.

He was confident that purchasing it would make Linda happy. It was her dream house.

"You have to tell her," Paul Olson's voice came from behind him. Dennis turned to find his foreman and friend looking at him from the entrance. "'Hey, Linda, I bought you your dream house and I've been remodeling it in my free time for almost a year.'"

Dennis shook his head. "It wouldn't solve the problem." He sighed. "At this point, it might even make the problem worse."

Paul was the only person who knew about the house, out of necessity. He was helping him with the remodeling.

"Why?" Paul leaned against the post opposite Dennis.

"Because I kept money away from her and bought this house without consulting with her. I've waited too long to tell her about this place, She would see it as yet another thing I kept from her. Deeds won't do it, Paul, she needs words."

* * * * *

When Dennis arrived for their second therapy appointment, Linda was already inside the office.

Every day that passed made him even more determined to fix what was broken, by whatever means necessary. The other night, when Linda's name had popped up on his phone's screen, the world around him had come spinning back into motion.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered, sitting down beside her on the floor on a pillow. "I had to take a shower."

Yaron clapped his hands together and said, "Laughter. We all need it." He split a speculative look between Linda and Dennis.

Dennis crossed his arms. He might have started to see the merit in this marriage counseling thing, especially after hearing how much Linda liked his letter, but that didn't mean he'd stopped wanting to simply be alone with her. She needed words. He got that now and he was going to work on it. What else could they possibly iron out?

"During our first session, Dennis, you seemed almost startled when Linda laughed, which tells me it has been a while since you shared your humor with her." Yaron raised an eyebrow at Linda. "Would you call that accurate?"

Linda dipped her head, but nodded, sending Dennis an almost apologetic look.

"Did you used to laugh together?"

"All the time," Linda murmured. "He used to do this thing where he blew air into my neck and made kind of a..."

"Fart sound?" Yaron supplied.

A laugh huffed out of Linda. "Yes. Or he would tell me stories about the men he was working with at the mines and their habits." Her eyes softened. "Yeah. We laughed all the time."

"What about you, Dennis? Did Linda make you laugh?"

"Sure she did," he said, meeting her eyes for a not-long enough moment. "She can imitate the Minion voice." His lips jumped. "That was probably my favorite. She used to talk to me like a Minion when I was having a shitty day."

Dennis caught a small, reminiscent smile from Linda and his heart missed a beat.

Yaron distracted him by pulling a giant bag of marshmallows out from behind his back, dangling it in midair. "Who's up for a game of Chubby Bunny? My friend Daniel and I used to play it around the campfire. We always had a good belly laugh."

Dennis twisted his mouth, but Linda's eyes were shining with delight.

Yaron ripped open the bag and popped one of the extra-large marshmallows into his mouth, talking around it. "We build resentments toward our loved ones. Sometimes we're not even aware of them. But they grow so strong, they prevent us from remembering what we loved about our spouses in the first place. Maybe one or both no longer wants to give their significant other the satisfaction of showing their amusement, so the other person stops trying. And the laughter dies."

Yaron handed Linda the bag, which was a good move considering Dennis would have handed it right back. "We can fix this by laughing at ourselves. If we stop taking ourselves so seriously for a moment, our partner can do the same. There is relaxation and acceptance in laughter. It's the anti-resentment drug. Like Jay Leno said, 'You can't stay mad at somebody who makes you laugh.'"

Dennis was still skeptical as hell about therapy, and this therapist in particular. Once upon a time, he might have stuffed his cheeks full of marshmallows to make Linda laugh, but the idea of doing it now, in front of a near-stranger, was so far outside his comfort zone, it wasn't even funny. The exercise also seemed inadequate. He didn't want baby steps, he wanted her back. Wanted everything fixed now.

"Linda, I can see your husband is somewhat hesitant, which frankly I find shocking. Why don't you begin?"

She blew out a slow breath. "So just stuff them in my cheeks?"

"Yeah, but instead of saying 'Chubby Bunny' try to talk like a Minion."

Marshmallows in hand, Linda turned wide eyes on Dennis. "If you say I told you so, I'll stuff the full bag somewhere else."

Dennis crammed a fist against his mouth to stop a chuckle from escaping. He loved her spirited like this. That light in her eyes made him smile. "I wouldn't dare."

Linda sat up straighter, stowing marshmallows away in her cheeks, one by one. Then she looked over at Dennis with a proud, lifted chin and said, "Banana."

The laugh burst out explosively and he laughed until the tears rolled down his face. His vision blurred with gleeful tears. The most incredible thing happened while he was laughing, Linda joined him, looking ridiculous and adorable with her full cheeks.

"Dennis," Yaron said, humor lacing his tone. "Would you like to reciprocate?"

Dennis's laughter faded into a groan. He couldn't leave her hanging, though. Shaking his head at his wife, he took the bag and tucked a bunch of marshmallows into his cheeks. "Dr. Nefario," he said, doing his best Gru impersonation, "Prepare the torpedo."

P words were a bad choice. Dennis barely covered his mouth in time to catch the spit, and Linda's head fell back on a belly laugh.

She was so beautiful when she was happy. And he had made her laugh by playing Chubby Bunny. Not by handing her his paycheck. Not by working overtime. Just by being himself. Or, rather, the self he had been when they had fallen in love. The guy who had nothing to offer but his undying love.

Yaron clapped," Well done, Team Harris." He opened his arms and exclaimed, "Group hug."

Dennis stiffened in his place and Yaron pointed a finger at him and said, "Gotcha."

Linda laughed again.

"Let's talk about Dennis' homework." Yaron nodded in his direction. "Did you write her the letter?"

"Yeah." He rolled his eyes when he realized the marshmallows were still in his mouth and they all had to sit there while he chewed and swallowed, Linda doing the same with lingering humor in her gorgeous eyes. "She seemed to like it."

"I loved it," Linda confessed blushing like a teenager.

Dennis didn't let any emotion show in his face, but those three words made his heart beat fast, and took his breath away as if he had just finished a race.

Yaron split a smile between them. "What did he write about?"

"Homecoming dance, when we started going steady, but it was more than that. There were all these details and I..." Linda swallowed hard because she was suddenly emotional, "I could feel in his words how he felt about me. Like I was the only woman in the world for him. I felt loved, cared for, desired, special... I used to feel that way during the first years of our relationship."

"Used to?" Dennis snapped his head to look at his wife. "Do you think I don't care for you anymore, Linda? Do you think that my love for you faded?"

"In the last two years, I did," she whispered. "You rarely talked to me. You barely acknowledged my presence. You locked yourself inside you."

Dennis's face paled.

"But then I keep finding out all these nice things you do behind my back." She wet her lips. "Last time we were here, I found out you express your love for me through deeds and now that I know about one of them... well, I think you still love me and care for me. But it was your letter that made me feel that way more than anything. I really liked reading what you wrote."

"I'll write you more if you come home."

Yaron pressed an imaginary button and made a buzzer sound with his mouth. "You can't emotionally blackmail her, Dennis!"

Linda shook her head. "Can you please tell him why I can't come home yet?" she asked Yaron.

"He's sitting right there," Yaron replied pointing at Dennis with his head. "You tell him."

"I have. But he doesn't listen. Which is the reason why we are where we are."

Yaron studied both of them. "I want to explore what you said, Linda, about the deeds Dennis does behind your back. What did you mean?"

"The night he left the letter on my car windshield, I found out he's been paying the security guard at my job to keep an eye on me when I go out."

"Interesting." Yaron tapped his finger against his lips.

"Dennis, you're here to accept responsibility for your role in the state of your relationship. That takes a lot of courage. Why not accept responsibility for the good as well as the bad?"

"It's nothing to give money to a guard," Dennis said, a lot louder than he'd intended. "I didn't do it to get recognition. I did it because I care for her."

Yaron nodded, "Dennis, why do you keep pushing Linda to come home? She is not ready yet."

"She's my wife. I miss her. The house is too quiet without her. It's not a home anymore."

"Linda, do you realize how hard this separation has been on Dennis?"

"Yes," she whispered, sounding awed. "I do, but I needed to do something to change the state of things. He didn't listen to me. For him everything was right. It was not! He didn't snap out of his trance till I moved out."

Dennis couldn't look at her. "I'm sorry, Linda. Being away from you is killing me. Could you at least tell me what you've been up to?"

He heard her swallow. "My life is mostly work and go back to the inn. I'm also taking steps to start my own business, my Daycare Center. I already talked with Grace McAllister, the realtor. She's looking for a place."

That brought Dennis's head around. "What?"

"You know it was always my dream. I'm not made to be a manager at McDonald's the rest of my life. I'm also working to get the certifications I need."

Yaron cleared his throat. "It's significant that you made the appointment this week. What changed?"

Linda glanced over at Dennis before lowering her gaze, "I've been putting it off for years. I just wasn't confident I could do it. But then, I read the letter from Dennis and I remember all the dreams I left behind. I want to take the chance before it's too late."

"You said that Dennis's letter made you feel more like the old Linda. The Linda you used to be. Are you saying that Dennis's letter and support might have helped push you toward your goal?

"Yes, it did." Linda.

"Tell him," Yaron suggested.

Linda looked at her husband, "Your letter helped, Dennis. Thank you."

Satisfaction wove around his lungs and it took him a long time to draw a decent breath. "You're welcome," he said hoarsely.

"Dennis," Yaron continued. "Would you like to acknowledge that Linda needs words and they are supremely important to her and thus vital when it comes to making this marriage work?"

"Yes," he rasped.

"Well done, Team Harris," Yaron exclaimed with a smile.

Crazily enough, Dennis felt a change in the air as if something had cleared.

"Time for your next homework assignment." The therapist winked at them both. "Still no sex, sorry. But I'm giving you Mother Nature."

CHAPTER 9

Dennis thought therapy had hit a peak of weirdness during their game of Despicable Me themed Chubby Bunny, but he had been dead wrong.

They had gotten a map with a red 'X' in it, a compass, and two backpacks with camping stuff. Their homework was to find the place on the map and set up a campsite there working as a team.

Dennis was growing impatient to have their problems solved, and this exercise felt like a damn waste of time.

Dennis adjusted the backpack on his shoulders and picked up his pace, catching up with Linda as they entered the forest. At first, he wanted to carry both backpacks, but it took one look at Linda to drop the idea.

During the next hours, Dennis had to set his pride aside and work with his wife as a team, using their communication and problem-solving skills to find the designated campsite. They spent over an hour trying to work out how to do it. Linda, of course, wanted to follow the rules. Dennis just wanted to set the camp in any suitable place.

"He'll never know!" Dennis argued.

"But I will! This is not about setting a camp, but about us working together to achieve a mutual goal. We're following the rules."

She opened the map and studied it for a few minutes. "There is a creek that runs close to the 'X'," Linda said pressing a finger on the map. "The stream is not far from here, and there is a trail marked in the map. If we follow it we'll get to our destination."

"Okay, David Crockett, lead the way."

Linda checked the compass and moved west.

"Was this therapy technique listed in the Yelp reviews? Maybe you didn't scroll down far enough."

"I didn't scroll. A friend of Laura gave me a glowing recommendation about him." They reached the creek and Linda checked the map again. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"

"Nope. We've had some good ones, though, haven't we?"

"Yes, we did. I remember you got mad at me once while we were watching that movie..." Linda started to say.

"You were not watching it! You wanted me to narrate the entire film to you! 'Who's she?', 'Why did he get shot?', 'I thought that one was on their side?', 'Is that a bomb?'"

"You yelled at me, 'Just watch the movie!'" Linda reminisced pouting.

"But you kept with your film commentary. The suspense kept being assaulted mercilessly by such interjections as, 'Hey! Look! They're the cushions we've got.', 'Isn't she the one who does that lingerie advert?' and, then you said, 'Oh, I've read about this one, he gets killed at the end.'"

Linda covered her face with her hands, and they both laughed.

"I made it up to you if I remember well," Linda said looking into Dennis's eyes.

"Yes, you did," the smile on Dennis's face got wider.

The intensity between them was building so much, Dennis was barely aware of their surroundings. There was only Linda. They gravitated closer, but she caught herself at the last moment before their bodies could touch.

They kept walking and talking and, without realizing it, they found the designated camping spot. Linda checked the map twice and exclaimed, "I think we found it," and imitating their therapist's voice she added, "Well done, Team Harris."

They both laughed.

Dennis starting the process of sliding tent poles through their nylon sleeves. They worked in silence for a few minutes, which was fine for him. Silence was where he lived. But then, he took a look at Linda and he remembered she wasn't comfortable with the lack of talking. "How is the Daycare project going?"

She blew out a breath, seeming uncertain. "It's starting to feel crazy taking this leap. There are a lot of things I need to put together. Getting the certifications and money is on the top of my list."

"You can take anything you need from our savings account," Dennis offered.

"Really? Are you okay with it?"

"Of course. This is your dream, Linda. I want to support you in any way I can."

Dennis handed her the stakes for two of the tent corners and they went about securing the shelter in place. Probably not the best moment to inform Linda of how much he had spent on the house he had bought for her.

"Thank you. That means a lot, Dennis." Looking kind of nervous, she asked, "What about you? What are you doing?"

Dennis shrugged. "You mean except missing you?"

She joined him at the stone circle, helping him move the rocks into a perfect ring for the campfire. The tension remained between them as Dennis gathered wood for the campfire.

"I've missed you too," she muttered.

He didn't want to credit his weird therapist, but something about being removed from their usual setting, being out there in nature, doing something unusual together, made him appreciate being with her, hearing her voice, even more than he normally did.

"Sometimes when I was working underground 7,800 feet below surface," he said, "home seemed like a dream. Like it wasn't real and I'd never get back here again." He nudged her with his elbow. "I almost always thought of you frowning over a recipe or dancing from the stove to the sink. And I knew home had to be real. Your Daycare Center is not a leap. You can achieve anything you set your mind to."

"Thank you," she murmured, sounding almost surprised. "I wish you'd do that more. Not encourage me, although that was truly nice. But I mean talk about your time in the mines. You've never talked to me about it."

"If she knew what was like..." thought Dennis.

Evening had fallen by the time they finished building the campsite and they wandered toward each other, right to the center of it, as if pushed by an unseen force.

"Let's focus on the present," Dennis finally said. "We're supposed to love each other through fights. Through all of it. Call me every name in the book. Slap my face till my cheeks turn red. Lay it on me. Tell me how hard it has been living with me the last few years. But don't turn your back to me." Admitting a weakness was difficult, but he forced it out. "It fucked me up when you said you didn't love me."

"It's not true, you know?" Linda confessed looking at Dennis out of the corner of her eye. "I do love you. But, you made loving you so hard for me." Hesitantly, she raised her hands and placed her palms on his cheeks. "You've been so sweet lately. You are making me remember all the reasons why I fell for you."

"Please, Linda. Get it all out so we can really start moving forward."

"The last two years were hard. Truly hard for me," she said softly. "It's like you quit your job but you left your heart at the mines. Instead of getting my husband and my best friend back, I got this... grouchy, silent person who only noticed me when we had sex."

"I'm here now." He moved closer taking Linda in his arms, she could feel the frenzied pounding in his chest. "Linda." He brushed their lips together. "I'm right here, my love."

A loud clapping brought them back to reality.

"Bravo! You found the place and set the camp working together as a team. I see you broke down some communication barriers too," Yaron's voice boomed through the clearing. He was wearing a Boy Scout uniform. "Well done, Team Harris!"