blue suit. She had a good haircut, wore makeup, and looked more stylish than Victoria had expected, and she had a warm smile that started in her eyes. She asked Victoria a few details about where she had grown up, where she had gone to school, and college, how many siblings she had, and if her parents were still married or divorced. They were all easy questions to answer, especially the one about Gracie. Victoria lit up like a light-bulb when she answered the question about having a sibling, and then described her and how beautiful she was. She told the doctor then about how different she herself looked from all of them and had thought she was adopted as a child, and her sister had thought so too.
“What made you think something like that?” the doctor asked casually, sitting across from Victoria as they sat in comfortable chairs. There was no couch in her office, only a box of Kleenex, which seemed ominous to Victoria and made her wonder if people cried often when they were there.
“I was always so different from them,” Victoria explained. “I don’t look like them in any way. They all have dark hair. I’m fair. My parents and sister have dark brown eyes. Mine are blue. I am a big person. All three of them are thin. Not only do I put on weight easily, I overeat when I’m upset. I’ve always had a problem with… with my weight. Even our noses aren’t the same, but I look like my great-grandmother.” And then she blurted out something she didn’t expect to say. “I’ve felt like an outsider with them all my life. My father named me after Queen Victoria because he said I looked like her. I always thought she was beautiful because she was a queen. And then I saw a photograph of her when I was six, and realized what my father meant. He meant I was fat and ugly just like her.”
“What did you do then, once you knew that?” the doctor asked quietly with a sympathetic expression.
“I cried. It almost broke my heart. I always believed he thought I was beautiful until then. And from then on I knew the truth. He used to laugh about it, and when my sister was born when I was seven, he said I had been their tester cake, to check the recipe, throw the tester cake away, and they got it right the second time. Gracie was always the perfect child, and she looks just like them. I didn’t. I was the tester cake they wanted to throw away. She was the prize.”
“How did that make you feel?” The cool quiet gaze stayed focused on Victoria’s face. Victoria didn’t even know that there were tears rolling down her cheeks.
“It felt terrible, about me, but I loved my baby sister so much I didn’t care. But I’ve always known what they thought of me. I’m never good enough, no matter what I do. And maybe they’re right. I mean, look at me, I’m fat. And every time I lose weight, I gain it right back again. My mother gets upset every time she looks at me and tells me I should be on a diet or going to the gym. My father hands me the mashed potatoes and then makes fun of me when I eat them.” What she was saying would have horrified anyone, but nothing showed on the psychiatrist’s face. She just listened sympathetically with an occasional murmuring sound.
“Why do you think they say those things to you? Do you think it’s about them or about you? Doesn’t it say more about them as people? Would you say things like that to your child?”
“Never. Maybe they just wanted me to be better than I am. The only thing they think is beautiful about me are my legs. My father says I have killer legs.”
“What about inside? What about the kind of person you are? You sound like a good person to me.”
“I think I am… I hope I am… I try very hard to do the right things. Except about eating. But I mean to other people. I’ve always taken good care of my sister.” Victoria sounded sad as she said it.
“I believe that, and that you do the right things,” Dr. Watson said, looking warm for the first time. “How about your parents? Do you think they do the right things, for you for instance?”
“Not really… sometimes… they paid for my education. And we’ve never been deprived. My father just says things that hurt me. He hates how I look, and he thinks my job isn’t good enough.”
“And what does your mother do then?”
“She’s always on his side. I think he was always more important to her than my sister and I were. He’s everything in my mother’s life. And my sister was an accident. I didn’t know what that meant till I was about fifteen. I heard them say it before she was born, and I thought she was going to arrive all banged up. And of course she didn’t. She was the most gorgeous baby I’ve ever seen. She’s been in commercials and ad campaigns a few times.”
The portrait of her family that Victoria painted was totally clear, not only to the psychiatrist, but to herself as she listened to what she said. It was the portrait of a textbook narcissist and his enabling wife, who had been unthinkably cruel to their oldest child, rejecting and ridiculing her all her life, for not being an appropriate accessory to them. And her younger sister had fit the bill for them perfectly. The only surprise was that Victoria had never hated her little sister, but loved her as much as she did. It was proof of her loving nature and generous heart. She took pleasure in how beautiful Grace was. And she had accepted the horrible things her parents had said about her as gospel. She had been shackled by their cruelty all her life. Victoria was embarrassed by some of the things she had said, but they were all true, and had the ring of truth to the psychiatrist as well. She didn’t doubt them for a minute.
And then she glanced at a clock just beyond Victoria’s shoulder and asked her if she would like to come back the following week. And before she could stop herself, Victoria nodded and then said that she would have to come in the afternoon after school since she was a teacher, which the psychiatrist said was fine. She gave her an appointment and handed her a card with the time written on it, and smiled.
“I think we did some good work today, Victoria. I hope you think so too.”
“We did?” She looked surprised. She had been entirely open and honest with her. And she felt suddenly disloyal to her parents for the things she had said. But she hadn’t lied. They had said all those things to her over the years. Maybe they hadn’t meant them to be as cruel as they sounded. And what if they did? What did that mean, about her and about them? It was a mystery to her now, which would have to wait another week to be solved, until she met with the shrink again. But she didn’t feel crazy when she left, as she had feared. She felt saner than she ever had, and painfully lucid about her parents.
Dr. Watson escorted her out, and when Victoria stepped out into the sunlight, she felt dazed for a minute and blinded by the light. The doctor closed the door softly behind her, and Victoria slowly walked away. She had a feeling that she had opened a door that afternoon and let the light into the dark corners of her heart. And whatever happened now, she knew she couldn’t close that door again. And thinking about it, she cried with relief as she walked all the way home.
Chapter 13
For Victoria’s second year at the Madison School, she got a very respectable raise. It wasn’t an amount that impressed her father, but it gave her a little more leeway in how she lived. And now she only taught seniors, which was her favorite group anyway. Juniors were much more intense and stressed out, and sophomores were immature and harder to direct. They were still babies in many ways, testing their limits and often rude. Seniors were in the home stretch, and had begun to acquire a certain poise and sense of humor about life. And they were enjoying their last year at home as kids. It made them much more fun to be with. Nostalgia began to set in during their last months in high school. Victoria enjoyed being part of it and sharing their final year with them. They were almost cooked.
Carla Bernini came back to school after her year-long maternity leave and was impressed by all that Victoria had accomplished with her students, and had a deep respect for her, however young. And they became good friends. She brought her baby to school once in a while to visit, and Victoria thought he was really cute. He was a bouncing happy baby, who reminded her of Grace at the same age.
And she was continuing to see Dr. Watson at her office once a week. She thought it was making subtle changes in how she looked at life, saw herself, and viewed her lifelong experiences with her parents. They had been toxic and hurtful to her all her life. She was beginning to face that now. And she had taken some positive steps since she had started therapy. She was dieting again and had joined a gym. Sometimes the sessions of remembering the things her parents had done and said left her so raw that all she could do was come home and drown herself in comfort foods. Ice cream was always her drug of choice, and sometimes her best friend. But the next day she would eat very little and spend extra time at the gym to atone for her sins. Dr. Watson had recommended a nutritionist who’d given Victoria good advice about planning her meals. Victoria had also tried a
