CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
One Year Later
“SO, MATT,how are things with Charlie?”
Things were beyond wonderful. A combination of medication, exercise—I was now running with Charlie every day—and coping techniques had allowed me to take my first trip with him. We didn’t go far, but it was one of the most important steps in my life. We packed an overnight bag and checked into a motel on the outskirts of town. That night we went to dinner to celebrate Charlie’s new book contract with my mom, Clay, and Trish, his girlfriend of the last six months. She was a delight, and Clay was lucky to have her in his life, because she took absolutely zero bullshit from him.
We celebrated as a family for the first time since I’d pretty much run away from my problems. Even though Christmas wasn’t for several months yet, Clay brought everything he’d saved up for me. He took great joy in handing me all of the gifts I’d missed out on. I cried at nearly every one of them, especially the Nirvana shirt, which I clutched to my chest.
It was hard to believe how much my life had changed. I found myself needing to touch my items less, and I didn’t freak out when they weren’t in my perfect order. Oh, I still had my moments. Like the day Charlie forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste and it sent me into a tailspin. But where before I would have to run around the house, touching all my things to ground myself, I stood in the bathroom and did the visualization techniques Dr. Rob had taught me. Those were usually enough to stave off the panic.
“They’re good. No, better than. His new book comes out next week, but he’s bringing me a copy home today!”
Dr. Rob chuckled. “You like those books, do you?”
“God, yes. I’ve been waiting on this one for so long. When he told me they’d picked it up, I started badgering him about when I’d be able to read it. His plane is landing at three, so he should be home about six or so.”
“Then we’ll see what we can do about keeping this appointment short. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your reading.”
I let my gaze wander over his desk. Dr. Rob had never been a messy man, but his desk wasn’t very tidy. The penholder sat in the middle of his desk, and I simply stared at it. There was a small desire to move it, but today I was able to keep my hands to myself. Of course, he noticed.
“Do you want to move it?”
I thought about it for a few moments. “No,” I replied. “It seems fine where it is. Though you might want to consider dusting it.”
He laughed. “You’ve come a long way, Matt.” He glanced at his watch. “I think that’s enough for today. You have a book to get home to.”
As I stood, I took a look at Dr. Rob. He’d aged but was still a handsome man. He had a warm manner that drew me in and made me feel comfortable. Again, something I had forgotten in my desire to get away from everyone and everything.
“Dr. Rob?”
“Yes, Matt?”
“Thank you.”
He tipped his glasses a little, showing off his light blue eyes. “For what?”
“Not giving up on me, I guess. Clay told me you were asking after me.”
He folded his hands on the desk. “When you came to me, I believed together we could help make things better for you. When you stopped coming, it niggled at my mind, made me wonder what I could have done differently. But, to tell the truth, you’ve done very well for yourself. And I think together we are going to make even greater strides.”
My cheeks warmed a little. Dr. Rob walked around the desk and held out his hand. I took it, then pulled him in for a brief hug. He stepped back, seemingly surprised.
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Rob,” I said, then made my way out of the door and onto the chilly street. The avenue was lined with Christmas decorations. Each store had them up as well. I’d forgotten how much I loved the holiday. After I checked the time, I realized I could make a last-minute decision to stop in to see Mr. Gianetti. He hugged me like a long-lost son. Instead of the flare of panic I usually felt, I sank into the warmth.
“Matthew!” he said, patting me on the back. “It’s so good to see you. How’s Charlie?”
“He’s good, thank you. How are you and the missus?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “She thinks I need to lose weight,” he scoffed as he patted his well-rounded belly. “I told her I can still fit into the pants I wore when I was eighteen.”
I laughed. “She knew it was a lie, right?”
He sighed and his lower lip jutted out. “She took away my cheesecake. What kind of wife takes away a man’s cheesecake, Matty?”
“One who loves you and wants to keep you around,” I answered.
“Do you have plans for the holiday?” he asked, ignoring my comment.
