UIA - Two Women

Bertha and Nikita were as different as two women could be. Bertha was short, curvaceous, happy, and felt in control of her own life. Nikita was tall, slender, unhappy, and felt almost no control over her own life. One had chosen her current job, the other had not. The contrasts couldn’t have been greater, but for all of their differences, they actually had that much more in common. However, only one was aware of this fact.

It was early in Bertha’s shift, just past midnight, when she entered the women’s locker room to begin cleaning. On most nights the place was empty, but occasionally a late returning mission, or restless operative, resulted in another’s’ presence. Tonight it was the latter. Bertha had seen Nikita relentlessly beating up on the punching bag in the exercise room when she first started her shift. Now, almost two hours later, she saw the thoroughly worn out young woman sitting limply on the bench in front of the lockers Nikita face rested in her hands as long, and sweat dampened, blond hair hung in clumps about her head. Bertha knew Nikita too well not to know the source of her current problems. There was only one thing that resulted in this type of behavior, and that thing happened to be a little over 6-feet tall, have green eyes, and long, curly, auburn hair - Michael.

Not wanting to startle her, Bertha deliberately made small noises upon her entrance into the changing area. Nikita looked up in response.

“Oh... Hi Bertha,” Nikita offered turning to locate the source of the noise.

“Hey kid,” Bertha returned to the slightly younger woman, in her usual warm, friendly manner.

Both women were very familiar with the other’s presence, and as such had developed a comfortable, almost sisterly like ease with each other over the last four years. Bertha took in the deep circles under the young operative’s eyes, and the almost gaunt look to her face due to too many forgotten meals. Silently, Bertha sighed. Being subjected to strong emotions Bertha could understand, but she would never be able to comprehend how a person could forget to eat. Oh well, she thought briefly, there were some things in life that were always going to remain mysteries. Refocusing to the problem at hand, Bertha’s cheery face and eyes softened in response to the other’s obvious pain.

“Michael, huh?” she offered sympathetically.

“Huh? Oh... no... just... trying to get my arm back in shape after being in a cast for so long. That’s all,” Nikita responded rather lamely, flexing the indicated limb as an offering of proof of her statement.

Nikita looked at the robust cleaning lady and offered a half-hearted smile to go with her anemic answer. She really didn’t mean to lie to her friend, but this type of initial response had become reflexive after four years in Section. And of all people, Bertha was one to whom she could be honest... well almost honest anyway. For some reason, Nikita felt safe with Bertha. Perhaps in part, it was because Nikita knew for a fact that this was one person who had absolutely no ulterior motives regarding their relationship. And perhaps because Bertha was such an innocent of what really went on in Section, or of Nikita’s personal dilemmas. Even though Nikita could tell her blue collar friend very little, it was almost as if Bertha somehow just knew what was really going on. As such, she treasured Bertha’s simplistic views of what Nikita knew were very complicated situations.

Bertha continued to look at Nikita, only now with slightly raised, questioning eyebrows. What little resolve Nikita had to try and hide from Bertha dissolved, and Nikita looked down in abject defeat.

“That obvious, huh?” she questioned, abandoning any pretense.

“Yup, that obvious,” Bertha tossed back with a knowing grin. “Girlfriend, you have ‘man trouble’ written all over your face. And even if some dense guy may not be able to see it, any of us girls sure know the signs. Been there myself... remember?”

Nikita paused for a moment, and the memory did come back. She seized the opportunity to divert both her mind and this conversation from tender issues.

“Yea, that’s right. Whatever happened with Edwardo? Did you two ever talk?” Nikita asked, sitting up and pushing her hair back across the top of her head.

“Oh gosh, I guess you and I haven’t talked in a while, have we,” replied Bertha, with that purely female facial expression that said, “boy do we have a lot of catching up to do”, while asking “now?”

Feeling even just a tad better for Bertha’s company, Nikita this time smiled a small, but genuine smile, while nodding slightly in agreement. Glancing around quickly to see if they really were alone, Bertha moved over to the offered seat on the bench next to Nikita.

“O.K., let’s see. I told you about the dance and all, right?” began Bertha not wanting to rehash old news.

“Yup. Your dress sounded lovely.”

“Oh it was. In fact it was almost like I was living a fairy tale. I felt so pretty that night and so full of confidence. Sooo... in control. Well, it was just so different from the way I normally feel inside, you know what I mean?”

Nikita nodded in complete agreement. She knew exactly what the other meant.

“I didn’t want the night to end. I sure didn’t want to think about when we’d have the chance to be together again like that. I mean even if I did manage to see him, it would probably be in some type of work setting or something, and as usual he would act as if I were some piece of furniture. God, how that man made me feel so used at times. I mean sure I would remember everything that he’d told me about really caring for me, and asking me to be patient, but it still hurt when he seemed to act so indifferent. I wouldn’t be able to stop wondering which Edwardo was the real one; was it the guy I danced with or the cold piece of... well the indifferent one.”

Bertha paused looking questioningly into Nikita’s now riveted blue eyes. “Is this making any sense to you?” she asked concerned that she not lose her audience.

“More than you,” assured the blonde, who was completely captivated. Bertha continued.

“So anyway, about a month ago we finally had a chance to get together. Just the two of us. I was really nervous. I mean part of me was determined to get a public commitment of some type, or die trying,” she giggled for emphasis. “But the other part kept saying, ‘don’t rock the boat’... ‘be supportive’... ‘the guy’s under a lot of stress’... yadda, yadda, yadda.”

Nikita let out a sign of understanding. “So what happened?” she asked “Did you get the commitment?”

“Well girlfriend, even I didn’t expect what happened, to have happened. We got together for coffee at this place near my apartment, as agreed. I wanted to meet him on my home ground. Thought maybe I’d feel safer that way. Well anyway, we met for coffee. Being his usual talkative self, I had to start things off. I gotta tell you he looked reeeal good sitting across from me in the booth, and it was all I could do not to jump his bones right there!”

Both women laughed, as each pictured their own version of that scene.

“I start telling him how I can’t live with this ‘on-off’ stuff, and he starts asking me to be patient again, telling me that he really cares. I was at a like total loss for how to make this guy understand, when all of a sudden it hit me, like a ton of bricks! I mean it was like a light bulb turning on! For some strange reason, it was like I was looking down on the two of us talking in that place, but I was a third person. And I could see how totally pitiful I looked, and sounded. It was almost as if I was begging this guy to ‘pleeeze, pleeze accept poor pitiful me’. I mean it’s not like I have a bunch of other guys dropping at my feet, or that I’m even interested in, but it occurred to me that no matter how much I demanded, this bozo was giving all he could under the circumstances, and it was up to me to find something, or someone else, to fill in what I was missing. I just realized that it was really stupid to put everything on this one guy, who might, or might not, be able to come through in the long run. Like was I gonna waste my whole life on this guy’s maybes? I don’t think sooooo. For all I know a train or terrorist’s bomb might get me tomorrow. Life’s too short. Eat dessert first!

“So I told him, fine. I’d be patient, but that being patient didn’t mean I’d put my life and my needs on hold. It’s not like I was gonna go out and actively try to find another guy, but I sure wasn’t gonna ignore potentials when they came along either!”

Bertha let out a huff of breath through her nose as she pressed her lips into a thin line to emphasize the sincerity of her words. Nikita hadn’t moved a muscle, being completely absorbed in the drama being related and desperately wanting to ask questions.

“But how did you feel? Better? Scared? What did Edwardo say?”

“Well, I can tell you that I was shakin like a leaf inside, but kinda felt good too at the same time. Almost like I was taking some control for a change instead of waiting on his royal highness. Weird, huh? I mean I still really care for the guy, and really want it to work. I know that if it doesn’t, I’ll be really sad and all. But I also feel kinda lighter now, and a bit happier even. I’ve also started to make some more friends that I do things with in a casual, social way. I haven’t ‘met’ anyone else yet, but if he comes along I think that now I’d notice, and not feel nearly as guilty for exploring possibilities.

“Lover Boy listened and I sorta got the idea that he was a bit shocked by my words, but also something else. Excited?? It was like now that I was telling him that I wasn’t gonna be some sort of mindless puppy who just sat around waiting for her ‘master’, he was gettin a bit worried. As a matter of fact, since then he’s started to try and make time for us.

“You mean like he’s working more at having the relationship?” offered Nikita hopefully.

“Yea, that’s exactly what it feels like now that you mention it. How’d know?” asked Bertha, her hazel-green eyes becoming large and round.

“Oh, just wishful thinking on my part I guess,” sighed Nikita as her mind was busy translating Bertha’s tale into her own problems. Nikita yawned.

“Oh gosh Nikita, I’m sorry. Here I am talking away like a Magpie when you’re half asleep. You’re so sweet to listen to my boring life. Why don’t you go take a nice hot shower, and crash. You look about ready to drop,” observed Bertha solicitously.

Nikita planted both palms firmly above her knees, as she pushed herself up off the bench.

“You know, that sounds like a great plan. Thanks Bertha. It was nice talking with you. I hope that everything works out with Edwardo in the long run.”

“Thanks Nikita. So do I.”

And giving the young operative a sisterly hug and quick smile, Bertha went about her chores.

****************

Subject continues to exhibit signs of mild to moderate depression associated with situational adjustment disorder, as expressed by inability to experience pleasure, sense of hopelessness, inability to achieve or maintain sleep, reduced appetite/weight loss, and a predominantly flattened affect marked by periods of uncontrollable crying (Axis I - no Axis II or III diagnoses). Pharmacological intervention is not recommended at this time as subject appears to respond favorably to psychodynamic, insight oriented, therapeutic approach. Trust issues remain a constant over-riding factor, but given the environment in which subject must survive, these issues are viewed primarily as adaptive in nature, and only mildly problematic (Axis IV). Overall Global Assessment of Functioning is moderately high (Axis V). It is anticipated that as the subject continues to make shift to a more internal loci of control, depressive symptoms will resolve. Improvement should be reflected in subject’s changing narrative, as well as in altered behaviors. Recommendations include: continued weekly sessions to work on development of social support system, and identification of mentor/role model.

Bertha read over her report one last time, put it through spell-check, and hit the send button. Closing her notebook, she unplugged her modem, replaced everything into her equipment trolley, and started off down the hall, her mind thinking about breakfast with Sam later on... at her place. Still smiling, she set off to mop the cafeteria.

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