Unexpected - Part 2/2

— Do you want to talk about it?

Neither of them could say exactly how it started or how they ended up in a restaurant during Deborah's lunch break – Mei Saito now with a short and beautiful haircut – talking non-stop about their entire lives. Where did so much intimacy come from? Who knows. Mei felt like she could share anything with that redhead girl, and Deborah felt like she could help the woman who seemed overwhelmed with her husband and her seven-year-old daughter.

— I really enjoyed talking to you, Debby. I really needed it, thank you so much for listening, — although the conversation had been brief due to Deborah's limited time, Mrs. Saito seemed very grateful and happy.

— It was nothing! I'm glad I could help in some way, it was really nice to meet you.

The two exchanged a long and warm gaze. Mei smiled and tilted her head as if she was seeing Deborah in a new light.

— Have you ever thought about being a sex therapist, girl?

***

It was the first week of working at the salon that Deborah met Lauren Lynch, an elegant middle-aged woman with a slim and commanding figure that matched her fine face framed by short platinum hair. However, it wasn't her appearance that caught Deborah's attention, but rather the whispers that started as soon as she arrived. Most of the clients - especially the older ones - wrinkled their noses as soon as Lauren set foot in the salon, as if her mere presence was an affront to morals and decency.

“That's the ‘sex therapist’ I told you about,” a grumpy lady muttered to her neighbor in the pedicure chair, immediately catching Debby’s attention to the woman at the counter. It was the first time she had ever heard of such a profession, and Deborah was fascinated by the powerful aura the woman carried, seemingly undisturbed by the whispers she surely heard about herself.

Initially, the two didn’t have much contact, only brief interactions at the counter. But Carlos, the salon owner, soon noticed some of Deborah’s skills and, along with his esthetician, started training her and sending her to courses to perform some simple beauty procedures. With higher commissions, Deborah was delighted with the opportunity.

And that’s when the relationship between Deborah and Lauren began to form. With her excellent hands for facial massage, Debby soon became Lauren’s favorite employee, and practically every fortnight, she was there to provide her with a relaxing moment on Fridays.

“So, how was your week, lots of work?” Deborah would ask as a routine every time Lauren arrived.

“Oh, this week has been so long! I almost couldn't make it here on time today, so many stories-” Lauren interrupted herself and glanced sideways at Deborah, who was looking at her with an amused curiosity. “You know what I do for a living, don't you?”

The redhead nodded and smiled, feeling both embarrassed and comfortable at the same time - if that was even possible - under Lauren’s analytical gaze as she headed to lie down on the treatment table.

“Sex is a taboo,” Lauren began to speak. “Matters of intimacy, in general, are very delicate and tend to make people wrinkle their noses simply because they don't know themselves and suppress their own desires.”

“I didn't know there was a profession specifically dedicated to this,” Deborah admitted, starting the facial treatment for Lauren.

“Exactly! My job would be much easier if this subject weren't so censored. Do you think I don't know what people say about me out there?” she laughed. “But I don't care. What matters to me is knowing that I'm providing information and helping people discover, explore, and accept themselves, both sexually and emotionally.”

With each word, Deborah became more and more fascinated by Lauren's work. It didn't take long for the two to strengthen their friendship, establishing a relationship of trust in which Lauren shared some curiosities from her cases - always maintaining confidentiality regarding names and other details - just to vent after a long week. Deborah, on the other hand, felt more and more at ease discussing her own doubts and desires that she had been trying to understand since adolescence.

As time went by, Deborah began to grasp the complexity of the subject and the approach that Lauren took with certain situations. Sometimes, she even collaborated with Lauren on some cases where the patient was having difficulty opening up, which always surprised her.

“Have you ever thought about becoming a sexologist, Debby?” Lauren once asked, and Deborah just laughed, looking around as if she couldn't see a way to pursue such an idea - the little she earned from her current job was barely enough to get by, and the costs of a university education were still beyond her limited savings.

“Maybe someday…” she shrugged, as if it didn't matter much.

“I think you have a talent for it,” Lauren smiled. “You should consider it seriously.”

***

The déjà vu that the question brought to her was so strong that Mei had to touch Deborah's arm to bring her back to the present. The girl then smiled as an apology.

— It's just not the first time someone has asked me that, — she explained, looking away sadly at the busy avenue in the upscale neighborhood. — But it just feels like a distant dream to me.

Mei Saito stared at her for a while with her half-closed light eyes. Her straight jet-black hair swayed its short ends as the cars passed by.

— Perhaps I can help you with that.

(11 years later)

— ...so you don't have to be afraid to explore and discover what makes you happy. Sexuality is fluid and diverse, just because the people close to you like something doesn't mean you have to like it too. And vice versa.

— It's difficult to shake off the external pressure that we end up feeling... We always want to... I guess it's about fitting in, right?

— Yes, of course, we're socialized that way. Here, — the woman stood up from her armchair and walked to the bookshelf. — Your homework for this week is to watch this movie and write down everything you feel. In our next session, I want you to bring your notes, including something you've noticed you want to try or absolutely don't want to try. Okay?

— Okay, Ms. Deborah, — the patient stood up, took the movie from the therapist's hands, and accompanied her to the door. — Thank you very much for today!

— It was nothing, Rob. See you next week!

— See you!

Deborah clicked her heels back to her desk and retrieved her phone from the drawer to check if the next patient had notified her about any delays, but what caught her attention were the nine missed calls from a single number: Mei Saito.

If there was someone Deborah was grateful to for being where she was professionally now, that someone was Mei Saito. The woman she had met eleven years ago had become almost like a godmother, helping her invest in her studies to become a sexologist. Of course, Deborah never stopped working at the salon while studying. Mrs. Saito covered the tuition and basic materials, but even so, the redhead knew she would have never been able to graduate so early without Mei’s collaboration.

Therefore, concerned about the number of missed calls, Deborah returned the call immediately. There was only a ring and a half before Mei answered, as if she was holding the phone already.

— Debby, hi! — Her voice was a mix of urgency and relief that alarmed the therapist even more.

— Hi, Mei, what's going on?

Deep, choppy breathing filled the other end of the line.

— It’s Reina. You need to help me with her.