“But you don’t mind touching your wife?”
Duncan looked at him, surprised that he’d guessed correctly. “Yes. Is it normal for a man like me to have such a change in behavior when he marries?”
Dr. Randall smiled, which was a reaction that sometimes made Duncan nervous as a smile often meant Duncan had said something out of place and the smiling person would soon be laughing at him. But Dr. Randall had never laughed at Duncan before.
“I think it is perfectly normal for any man to enjoy touching his wife. But you said she has disallowed marital relations. Is that upsetting for you?”
“It is not upsetting. I understand that she does not love me or find me physically attractive and she does not want to risk becoming pregnant, but it is disappointing. That is not the focus of my question, however. My wife . . .” He paused, finding it strange to use that phrase—My wife. “She has a clubbed foot and so walking is sometimes difficult for her, especially when she encounters stairs. When I realized this, I offered to help her up the stairs without thinking she would need to touch me. Then she took my arm, and it did not . . . startle me.”
“If you offered to help that means you were prepared for the touch. We have talked about how helpful it is in regard to your reactions if you are expecting to be touched.”
“Yes,” Duncan acknowledged. “But I still do not like to touch or be touched, even when it is expected. However, I have found that I genuinely like to have her hold my arm, and so I find myself offering my assistance even when it is not precisely necessary. When we were married, the vicar asked us to kiss one another, it is a tradition he finds symbolic, and I felt very excited to kiss Hazel, and when I did kiss her, I liked it very much.”
Dr. Randall chuckled, and Duncan turned sharply to him. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I am happy to know that you enjoyed kissing your wife. Is that the only time you have kissed her?”
“Yes.” He would like to kiss her again, but without being invited to do so, it would be inappropriate.
“Are there other instances of pleasurable touch you have shared with your wife?”
“Yes. I have touched her accidentally and felt pleasure from the sensation, which I have never felt before. I thought perhaps it was because she is a woman, and men and women are supposed to touch for reasons of procreation, though Hazel and I have agreed not to have such relations.” He thought for a moment. “I still startle each time Delores touches me, and she is a woman.”
“I see. So, you think there is something particular about your wife in this reaction on your part, or rather, lack of reaction?”
“Yes, I want to understand why touch is different with Hazel than with other women.”
“Do you have affectionate feelings for her?”
“Yes, but I have affectionate feelings for Delores too.”
“Perhaps different types of affection.”
“Perhaps,” Duncan acknowledged. “I want to understand why, and I want to explore this change of reaction without making Hazel uncomfortable.”
“It sounds to me that an experiment is in order, then.”
“What sort of experiment?”
“Practice different types of touch with your wife and keep a record of which ones are pleasurable, which ones create no sensation, and which ones create a negative sensation, such as the burning or bruising sensation you have described to me before when people touch you.”
Duncan nodded; this was a very good idea.
Dr. Randall continued. “It sounds as though you have already determined that walking arm-in-arm with her is pleasurable. What about sitting beside her, close enough that your knees touch, or your shoulders? Have you noticed any sensation in that sort of touch?”
“I have not been attentive to that sort of touch, though we do not often sit next to one another.”
“Look for opportunities to touch her without her notice. If any sort of touch is uncomfortable, then do not initiate it again until you feel prepared to be uncomfortable again. It might take a certain number of exposures before you feel comfort, or even pleasure, from different types of touches.”
“That is good advice. What other sorts of touches could I add as the experiment continues?”
“Perhaps brushing your fingers across her arm as though on accident would be a good sort of touch. Placing your hand on her back as she enters a room.”
Duncan began to feel nervous, but he was curious enough about the results to continue listening to Dr. Randall’s suggestion.
“In time, you might want to try holding her hand.”
Duncan felt a prickle of sweat at his hairline. “I do not like to hold hands. My mother would try to hold my hand when I was very small, and I felt as though my fingers would break off—like her fingers were knives and would cut though my bones if she squeezed too tight.” Remembering the sensation of having his hand grabbed and squeezed made his stomach churn.
“Perhaps do not intertwine the fingers, then. Simply hold like this.” He mimicked an arrangement similar to a handshake, fingers closed, wrapping around the back of the other hand.
Social protocols required handshakes sometimes, and so Duncan had learned how to execute one without showing an adverse reaction as a matter of professional conduct. Duncan used his own hands to practice and looked at his clasped hands. The fingers did not feel like knives, but then his own touch had never bothered him, only touch from other people.
The front door of the office opened. Dr. Randall smiled at Duncan, creating creases that fanned out from the edges of his eyes. “Let me know how the experiment progresses. I am curious to hear the results.”
Duncan agreed to share his results and thought over everything Dr. Randall had said as he made his way back to the cobbler shop where he was to meet Hazel. Sitting side by side so that their hips or shoulders touched, brushing fingers across her skin as though on accident, a hand on her back, possibly holding hands with the fingers closed. Just thinking of these actions made his heart pound.
What Duncan could not tell for sure, however, was whether the racing heart was anxiety at doing something that had previously been so uncomfortable or excitement for the possible pleasurable sensations that might result from this experiment.
By the time the impressions of her foot were finished, the new, soft leathers were chosen, and her foot was cleaned and roped back into the boot that now felt like a torture device compared to her expectations of the new and improved boot, Hazel was nearly giddy with excitement. Would her gait improve? Would she no longer need to sleep with a hot-water bottle against her hip to manage the pain every night? Mr. Leavitt said he would have one pair for her in a week and the other a week after that.