Talia nodded once, but said, “Not really.”
“I figured.” Kellie gestured at the oversized chair near the wall. “Have a seat.”
Legs suddenly shaking, Talia complied, folding her knees into her chest when she had done so. “Is this where you ask me to tell you my problems?” she tried to quip, feeling exposed and raw somehow.
Kellie laughed quietly and leaned her elbows on the desk, lacing her fingers. “Nope. I have a general idea of your situation from your application. We’re not going to talk about those particulars right now unless you want to. Do you?”
Talia shook her head, her throat tightening.
“Didn’t think so.” Kellie looked at her computer screen, narrowing her eyes for a minute as she clicked her mouse three times, then pushed away from her desk and rose, pulling her chair around the desk to remove any obstacle between her and Talia.
It was all Talia could do not to lean farther back in her chair, to get as far away as she could from such close attention. She liked Kellie so far, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for this.
Kellie’s slight smile told Talia she knew full well what had happened, and she sat back in her own chair, not at all put off. “Has anything changed from what you had in your application?” she asked without any sort of introduction.
Talia thought back to the process applying to this place had been. She’d needed to provide a medical history, have a background check, include a reference letter, and basically write a pitch for why she needed to come to the ranch and what had caused her broken heart. There had been a full questionnaire to accompany all of this, and she was pretty sure applying to college was an easier process, though she’d never done so.
What had she said? How had she phrased things?
Did it actually matter?
“No,” Talia replied simply, shaking her head. “My son is still dead, and I’m still not over it.”
Kellie’s expression didn’t change. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.” She managed a swallow, blinking hard. “I don’t feel anything anymore. I can’t. I’m just as broken now as I was the day he died. Broken is normal.”
“But broken is not permanent,” Kellie insisted. She leaned forward, her eyes searching Talia’s. “I ask our guests two questions at every intake interview, and the answers help me guide our therapy sessions and goals. The first is this: Why did you want to come here?”
The question caught her off guard, given she had written an entire essay explaining why she should come to the ranch and what her situation was. Kellie had the paperwork on her desk, Talia could see her name on it. Yet she was asking Talia why she wanted to come?
Then the word choice struck her.
Want. Kellie asked why Talia wanted to come to the ranch. Not why she needed to or deserved to, but wanted to.
Why did she want to come?
“I didn’t,” Talia admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t want to come. I basically lost my job because I’m not really there—I’m just a robot going through the motions in my life. I know I need help, I’ve known that for a while. I just don’t want to be anywhere. Do anything. And running away from all of that to retreat like this makes me feel weaker.” Her voice broke, and she looked down at her hands. “And more broken.”
“You’re confusing retreat with desertion or surrender,” Kellie told her in a soft but firm voice. “A retreat isn’t a sign of cowardice. It’s a sign of acknowledging you do not have the strength to presently accomplish your goals. A retreat is a means of regaining ground or strength, of going back to the drawing board, or finding a new strategy. A retreat is an intention to face the difficulty when better prepared to do so.”
A flicker of something positive lit inside Talia’s chest, but she didn’t dare acknowledge it, just in case it turned out to be heartburn or something. “Why doesn’t it feel that way?”
Kellie’s hand reached out to touch Talia’s sock-covered foot, though she didn’t go farther than that. “Because you’ve just taken the first step toward finding that strength, which is allowing yourself to accept that you don’t have it right now. And there is nothing wrong with that. We think we should always be fine, no matter what happens to us, but that isn’t fair to our bodies or our minds. We are meant to feel things and experience things, and that drains us more than we realize. Seeing that isn’t a bad thing. It’s one of the most honest realizations we can have.”
“A single step,” Talia murmured, feeling moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.
“A single step,” Kellie repeated. She released Talia’s foot and sat back silently.
When she didn’t say anything else, Talia looked up at her. “What’s the second question?”
Kellie’s mouth curved. “What do you want to gain out of your experience here?”
“I’m stuck,” Talia told her with more honesty than she usually allowed with someone she wasn’t related to. “I don’t want to be stuck.”
“Good.” Kellie nodded slowly, still watching Talia, and waiting.
Was she supposed to say more?
Talia wet her lips. “I want to breathe without hurting. I want to feel again. I want to care that the day is sunny and that I’m alive.”
“Excellent,” Kellie praised in that gentle tone she used so well. “And this retreat? What does it mean to you?”
“That’s three questions,” Talia pointed out, trying for a smile.
Kellie laughed in a warm way that belonged in a conversation by a fire with hot cocoa in hand. “I didn’t say there were only two questions, just that there were always two questions.”
Talia would give her that, and she would further admit that it felt good to make her laugh. Kellie might be her therapist while she was here, but she suddenly felt like she had known her for ages, and thought that, if given a chance, she could have talked to this woman for hours without ever feeling ashamed of it. Like they were old friends who just needed to catch up.
“I don’t know what it means, honestly,” Talia heard herself say. “I don’t know anything except that I’m here.”
“That’s fair. So let me ask you this: Do you want to regain strength? Find better ground for your battles? Do you want a new strategy and new resources to face the enemy at your particular door?”
“Yes.” Talia nodded repeatedly, swallowing hard as her chest began to tighten. “Yes, I want to face it all, and I want to survive facing it.”
Kellie’s warm smile spread, and she reached out a hand for Talia to shake again. “Then welcome to your retreat, Talia James. Let’s see what we can do for you.”
“Is it supposed to be bubbling like this?”
“Ryan, step away from the stove before I hurt you.”
“I’m just saying, it looks suspicious when it boils like that.”
A sharp corner of a hand towel snapped against the back of one thigh, making Ryan yelp and jump back from the slightly bubbling gravy. “I said, step away!” his sister barked, striding over with a furrowed brow.
Ryan held up his hands in surrender, then rubbed at the tender spot on his leg. “I forgot how good you are with that.”