“No.” Alarmed.

“Do you have any case you could discuss?”

“I… I suppose so.” She gave me a look more pitying than resentful: You’re hurting me but it’s not your fault.

Shaken a bit, I said, “Then go ahead, please.”

“The one I could talk about is a woman I’ve been seeing for two months. She’s a nineteen-year-old sophomore. Initial testing shows her to be within normal limits on every measure, with the MMPI Depression scale a little elevated. Her boyfriend is a senior. They met the first week of the semester and have been going together ever since. She self-referred to the Counseling Center because of problems in their relationship-”

“What kinds of problems?” asked Gray Hair.

“A communication breakdown. In the beginning they could talk to each other. Later, things started to change. Now they’re pretty bad.”

“Be more specific,” said Gray Hair.

Sharon thought. “I’m not sure what you-”

“Are they fucking?” asked Ponytail Walter.

Sharon turned red and looked down at the carpet. An old-fashioned blush- I hadn’t thought it still existed. A few of the students looked embarrassed for her. The rest seemed to be enjoying it.

“Are they?” pressed Walter. “Fucking?”

She bit her lip. “They’re having relations, yes.”

“How often?”

“I really haven’t kept a record-”

“Why not? It could be an important parameter of-”

“Hold on,” I said. “Give her a chance to finish.”

“She’ll never finish,” said Gray Hair. “We’ve been through this before- terminal defensiveness. If we don’t confront it, cut it off where it grows, we’ll be spinning our wheels the whole session.”

“There’s nothing to confront,” I said. “Let her get the facts out. Then we’ll discuss them.”

“Right,” said Gray Hair. “Another protective male heard from- you bring it out in them, Princess Sharon.”

“Ease up, Maddy,” said Aurora Bogardus. “Let her talk.”

“Sure, sure.” Gray Hair folded her arms across her chest, sat back, glared, waited.

“Go ahead,” I told Sharon.

She’d sat in silence, removed from the fray like a parent waiting out a spat between siblings. Now she picked up where she’d left off. Calm. Or on the edge?

“There’s been a communication breakdown. The patient says she loves her boyfriend but feels they’re growing distant from one another. They can no longer talk about things they used to be able to discuss.”

“Such as?” asked Julian, through a cloud of smoke.

“Just about everything.”

“Everything? What to have for breakfast? Stuffing versus potatoes?”

“At this point, yes. There’s been a complete breakdown-”

“Breakdown,” said Maddy. “You’ve used that word three times without explaining what you mean. Try clarifying rather than restating. Operationalize the word breakdown.”

“Things have deteriorated,” said Sharon, making it sound like a question.

Maddy laughed. “Terrific. That makes it perfectly clear.”

Sharon lowered her voice. “I don’t really know what you’re getting at, Maddy.”

Maddy shook her head in disgust, said to no one in particular: “Why waste time on this shit?”

“Second the motion,” someone said.

I said, “Let’s stick to the case. Sharon, why does this girl feel things have broken down?”

“We’ve discussed that for several sessions. She claims she doesn’t know. At first she thought he’d lost interest and was seeing another woman. He denies that- he spends all his free time with her, so she thinks he’s telling the truth. But when they’re together he won’t talk and seems angry at her- or at least she feels that. It came on all of a sudden, got worse.”

“Did anything else happen at that time?” I asked. “Some kind of stressful event?”

Another blush.

“Did they begin having sex at that time, Sharon?”

Nod. “Around then.”

“Were there sexual problems?”

“It’s hard to know.”

“Bullshit,” said Maddy. “It would be easy to know if you’d done your job properly.”

I turned to her and asked, “How would you go about getting that kind of information, Maddy?”

“Be real, establish rapport.” She ticked each phrase off with her finger. “Know the specific defenses of the client- be prepared for the defensive bullshit and roll with it. But if that doesn’t work, confront and stay with it until the client knows you mean business. Then simply go for it- bring up the subject, for Christ’s sake. She’s been seeing this woman for two months. She should have done all of that by now.”

I looked at Sharon.

“I have,” she said, the blush still in force. “We’ve talked about her defenses. It takes time. There are problems.”

“Sure are,” said Julian.

“Seck-shoo-all problems,” enunciated Maddy. “Say the ‘S’ word, honey. Next time it’ll be easier.”

Scattered laughter. Sharon seemed to be taking it calmly. But I kept my eye on her.

“Share the problems with us,” Walter was urging, grinning and playing with his ponytail.

“They… she isn’t satisfied,” said Sharon.

“Is she coming?” asked Julian.

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think so?”

“No. No, she isn’t.”

“Then what are you doing to help her come?”

She bit her lip again.

“Speak up,” said Maddy.

Sharon’s hands began to shake. She laced her fingers together to hide it. “We’ve… we’ve talked about… reducing her anxiety, relaxing her.”

“Oh, Christ, blame the woman,” said Maddy. “Who says it’s her problem? Maybe it’s him? Maybe he’s a bumbler. Or a preemie.”

“She says he’s… okay. She’s the one who’s nervous.”

“Have you done any deep muscle relaxation?” asked Aurora. “Systematic desensitization?”

“No, nothing that structured. It’s still hard for her to talk about it.”

“Wonder why,” said Julian.

“We’re just working on trying to stay calm,” said Sharon. It sounded like self-description.

“Hard to be calm about primal issues,” soothed Walter. “Have they done oral sex?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Uh, in what way?”

She looked back down at the carpet. “The usual.”

“I don’t know what that means, Sharon.” He looked at the others. “Do any of you?”

Orchestrated smiles and shakes of the head. A predatory bunch. I pictured them as full-fledged therapists in a few years. Scary.

Sharon was looking at the floor, fighting a losing battle with her hands.

I thought of intervening, wondered whether that violated the norms of the group. Decided I didn’t care if it did. But being too protective would harm her more, in the long run.

While I was deliberating, Walter said, “What kind of oral sex?”

“I think we all know what oral sex is,” I said.

His eyebrows rose. “Do we? I wonder. Do any of you wonder?”

“This is bullshit,” said Aurora. “Got too many things to do.” She stood, hefted her carpetbag, and stamped out of the room. Three or four others followed quickly.

The door slammed. A tight silence followed. Sharon’s eyes were moist and her earlobe had been tugged scarlet.

“Let’s move on to something else,” I said.

“Let’s not!” shouted Maddy. “Paul says no holds barred- why the hell should she be the exception?” Her anger seemed to lift her from the floor. “Why the hell does she get saved every time she gets into her defensive mode and shuts us out!” To Sharon: “This is reality, honey, not some fucking sorority game.”

“A fucking sorority game wouldn’t be half-bad,” mused Julian. He sucked on his pipe ostentatiously.

“Back off,” I said.

He smiled as if he hadn’t heard me, stretched and recrossed his legs.

“Sorry, Alex, no back-offs,” Walter informed me. “Paul’s rules.”

A tear dribbled down Sharon’s cheek. She wiped it away. “They do the usual.”

“Meaning?”

“Sucking.”

“Ah,” said Walter. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He held out his hands, palms up, fingers curled. “Come on, keep going.”