Astor Place Vintage: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

for the past five. Therapy was supposed to help me figure out why I can’t.”
    “It didn’t?”
    “Not really.” I’d analyzed every angle in therapy so often that even I’d gotten sick of talking about it. That didn’t lead me to take action, only to avoid the subject in sessions, which made me feel uncomfortable, which made me put an end to it. Therapy, not the affair. At least Jeff spent money on me instead of charging an hourly fee. “It helped me understand, but understanding didn’t help me do anything about it.”
    “And what did you come to understand?”
    “Basically, I stay up getting angry with myself for wasting the prime years of my life in a relationship with a married man I’m attracted to for being unavailable, like my father, who made me feel unlovable because he abandoned me and my mom for another woman, blah blah blah.” Dr. Markoff and I stared at each other for a bit. I crossed my legs. “What do you think of Xanax?”
    “As I said, the mental dilemma won’t be resolved unless you get to the underlying problem. Perhaps you’d like to give me a general sense of your parents’ marriage?”
    “Right.” I crossed my legs the other way. “So my mother found out my father was having an affair the summer before I started high school. Since our apartment was small and the yelling was loud I knew all about it. I took sides with Mom and felt rejected along with her.”
    “It must’ve been quite upsetting for you,” he said, looking straight into my eyes with a serious expression.
    I nodded and continued, dodging his obvious attempt to empathize so I’d break down in tears. “He moved out. They got a divorce. The end.”
    “You were about to begin high school . . . where?”
    “La Guardia.”
    “The public school? With the theater program?”
    “And dance, music, art . . . That’s where I met Jeff. He came from a wealthy family but was sick of private schools. Plus, they had a really good art program. That’s how we met, in a painting class.”
    “And what was your relationship like?”
    “Really good. We started going out junior year. I lost my virginity with him, went to prom with him. It lasted two years.”
    “And then?”
    “After high school, he went off to RISD to study architecture. I stayed in the city and went to FIT for business and fashion. Theseparation was sad but not horrible. I mean, we were young; it wasn’t like we were going to get married. Occasionally, we’d meet up for coffee when he was in the city. We lost touch after a while, but a friend of mine spotted his wedding announcement in The New York Times . His fiancée was a descendent of J. P. Morgan. They were getting married at the Pierre Hotel. Later, I heard he lived up in Westchester and was designing houses for rich people. I guess he was slumming with me back in high school.”
    “And how did you reunite?”
    “About six years ago, I was managing a vintage clothing store down on Mott Street. Jeff read an article in New York magazine that quoted me on the best places to shop in SoHo. He came to the store under the pretense of buying a present for his wife. Then he asked me out to dinner.”
    “And?”
    “We’ve been seeing each other ever since,” I said, punctuating the statement with closure. I didn’t want to go into the dismal details.
    “What about your father?” Dr. Markoff asked.
    “He lives in Costa Rica. In a yurt.”
    “A yurt?”
    “Uh-huh.” I refrained from rolling my eyes.
    “I can see this isn’t easy for you to talk about, so thank you for sharing those details. Do you have any questions for me?”
    “What if you hypnotize me and I never come out? Or my mind goes somewhere really upsetting?”
    “Hypnosis merely puts you into a more receptive state. While your mind is open, I try to help you focus on the fears and anxieties that are holding you back. If you don’t like where your thoughts are going, or you don’t want to be in the trance anymore, you can