Wood & Iron

Chapter 10

Thwack.

There wasn't a single member at Wood & Iron who could hit a golf ball as far as Benji Wood. Usually, he was careful not to outhit anyone at the driving range. But today, he was too caught up in his thoughts to realize that he was driving that little white ball 50 yards further than the golfers who couldn't help but turn their heads at the sound of his club making contact.

Thwack.

"Why do you think that you have trouble admitting when something is wrong?"

Benji had been spending his Friday lunch break with Dr. Solomon a couple of times a week for about a month. It wasn't his idea, and he hadn't even told anybody outside of Liv that he was seeing a therapist.

He didn't have a good answer to the doctor's question. He was sure that his family of origin played a large part in it. It wasn't that Benji was the type of person to blame Mom and Dad for all the problems inside his head; it was just that, well... he was the exact same as all the men who shared the Wood name.

Thwack.

They weren't bad men. On the contrary, they were very good men... men who loved well, provided well, and cared for the people around them. They were pleasant, generous staples in the community who were known for what they'd done for the town of Bend.

But the men of the Wood family had one fatal flaw. It was bigger than the stereotypical he won't ask for directions. It was more than he can't admit when he's made a mistake. Benji hadn't spent enough time with Dr. Solomon to know whether to attribute it to nature or nurture... whether genetics or upbringing, or some unfortunate combination of both that told them to hide their feelings and failures. And it wasn't just that they hid them from others, though they certainly did that. But they even hid their darkness from themselves, often burying it so deep that they were completely unaware of the ways that their actions were affected by the roots that were deep down.

"How do I stop it?"

The light bulb had clicked a few weeks back while sitting on Dr. Solomon's brown leather sofa. So much made sense with this revelation... so much about himself, his brother, and their father.

"Well," Dr. Solomon had replied, staring out the window while he gathered his words, "you stop it by simply talking."

"What do you mean?"

"You say it out loud. You tell your wife when you've messed up. You tell your friends what you're feeling. You don't wait until you can't live with yourself before you let yourself speak up about what's inside."

Thwack.

"I have no idea how to do that." Benji realized the ridiculousness of his words as they were coming out of his mouth, but he meant them.

"To start, when you get that feeling in your chest... you know, when you don't feel like you can look anyone in the eye... when you feel an intense desire to leave the room... don't."

Thwack.

Benji knew that feeling well. There had been entire days of his life where that tight spot in his chest never seemed to dissipate. He was feeling it now, and it was likely the reason that he was smacking the ball further than anyone on this range.

"Instead of leaving," Dr. Solomon continued, "lean in. Tell the other person what you're feeling... how you failed them or how they failed you."

Benji looked down at the little white ball on the fake grass beneath him and took a deep breath.