Carol Has A Problem

Can Dr. Lutman help her? He'd helped others. Why not her?

(This week I decided to do a little fiction)

He tipped back in his highbacked office chair just a little and spoke calmly to the young woman on the other side of his desk.

“I can’t begin to help you. There is no beginning. It’s not like everything is laid out in a chronological order,” he paused. He waited until she was looking at him again. Her eyes had wandered to the bird cage in the corner of the room. “We just start with the most worrisome and irritating part, the thing that’s giving you the most grief…and we go from there.”

Carol looked confused and began to shift in her chair. She’d thought it was going to be a little less bewildering. She thought Dr. Lutman would take care of things in a more organized and clinical way. But now she was second guessing her decision to consult him.

“If I only could start with something that would make me feel smart and confident,” she reasoned to herself. “I’m always hesitant in situations like this.”

“Can I assume you’ve completed your exercises for this morning?” he asked.

She nodded and looked towards the tarnished cage again.

Dr. Lutman studied the woman before him. Smart, professional and at the top of her game. For the life of him he couldn’t understand what was at the root of her anxiety. Lots of people were under the same kind of stress, dealing with hectic schedules and the demands of life and they didn’t exhibit these kinds of symptoms. “Everybody truly is different,” he thought before addressing Carol again.

“Well, Carol, that’s why I’m here. Together we can take this on and with a little work and a little luck we’ll see some real progress. Maybe even in the next few minutes!” Dr. Lutman said. He watched for her reaction.

“Okay,” Carol agreed, nodding her head and steadying her fidgeting hands. “Let’s do this.”

“All right.” agreed Dr. Lutman. “Perhaps you can give me a word.”

For a moment Carol looked like she was going to freeze. Like a deer in the headlights, she was perfectly still before suddenly snapping back to the moment.

“Cable! I want to say ‘cable’." exclaimed Carol, looking a little bit pleased with herself.

“Cable? That’s your word?” asked Dr. Lutman. His face had gone a little pale, his features stony and inexpressive, disguising his true feelings. “That’s a good word. I don’t know why you wouldn’t like that word. Can you tell me why it’s the one you chose?”

Carol’s shoulders slumped. Her eyes drifted back to the bird cage. Where was the bird? There wasn’t a bird in the cage. The room seemed to darken a little to her.

“I thought of table, and I thought of fable. I thought about sable but that was a little too obscure. I mean, when’s the last time you saw a sable?” Carol asked, not really expecting an answer.

Dr. Lutman did not reply.

“I settled on cable but it just didn’t sit well, and sure enough,” Carol held out her palms, “it was crap.”

“And that’s where you stopped, I’m guessing?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you’re here?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Lutman rose from his chair and strode across his office to the large whiteboard on the opposite side of the space. Carol watched him as he picked up a blue dry erase marker and wrote CABLE in large block letters in the middle of the board. He was quick, efficient and a little sexy.

“Before we go any further, Carol,” intoned Dr. Lutman, turning to his client and resting the now capped tip of the pen on his lower lip. “How much do you want to continue this session? I only ask because, it’s getting close to lunch. Have you heard my stomach rumbling?”

“I haven’t,” Carol assured him. “Do you want to take a break and grab a bite? Do you want to go together?”

“I’d like that very much, Carol. And, please, call me Emile,” smiled Dr. Emile Lutman. Carol felt herself blush and turned away a little to conceal it.

They both headed for the office door, Carol pausing to pick up her purse and jacket. As he held the door for her he wondered what would be next for him? Just a poor kid from the wrong side of town. Look at me now! Dr. Emile Lutman, Wordle Consultant. Anything is possible!

“Anything is possible,” he thought as the elevator whisked them to the lobby 71 stories below. But first, they’d have to deal with CABLE.