There was something about this Kerrie woman that she liked. She could feel how genuine she was when talking about The Church. This woman cared about her clients. She got up every day to work with people who had had a hard life. Brought herself to their level. She could see herself working with Kerrie. Running their little island to create an environment that was beneficial for the clients and gave them the room to be treatment-focused instead of program-focused. That was something she didn’t like at Woodwind. The clients didn’t get as much time together. It was more individualized and not in a good way. They didn’t form the bonds they did at Turtle Grove. Treatment had been more separated. The togetherness wasn’t there.
“Exactly how much would we be on our own?”
Kerrie shrugged. “I haven’t been down to Main in two weeks, and Tyler has visited once since Wilson left, and that was, I think, just to gauge how I was handling it alone. Thankfully, our assistant here, Jayvon, is very helpful, and Wilson’s caseload was reduced more and more as he got to his final day.”
That didn’t sound bad. Not at all. “I assume I won’t get a full caseload right out of the gate.”
“No, they’ll probably tack a few on at first, then add more over a couple of weeks if you’re keeping up well. Our clients are together at all times, so you’ll learn mine, and I’ll learn yours, so I’ll be here to help you. We’ll be a team.”
A team. That was one thing her last employment lacked. While everyone was nice to each other, it was a solitary environment. She had never really had any friends there. Acquaintances, yes. Superficial friends and colleagues, definitely. but never actual friends.
Footsteps began sounding behind her, chatter filling the hall quickly. She looked at Kerrie for an answer.
“Group’s over. They’ll have a short break, and then they’ll do Video.”
“Hey, Ms. K, are we meeting this afternoon?”
Reese turned to see a young man with wide blue eyes brimming with energy, if the bouncing from foot to foot was any indication.
“Yeah, I’m planning on it. Did you get your worksheets done?”
The young man produced a green folder, holding it up proudly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Great, I’ll page Franklin or John on the walkie-talkie when I need you.”
“See you then.”
She watched him leave over her shoulder. More men filtered past, curious looks on their faces at the new person.
“Sorry about that. I try to keep the door open unless I have a client so they can feel like they have access to me.”
“No apology needed. I like that policy.”
Tyler reappeared, strolling right into the office as he pocketed his phone. “I’m sorry I had to step away. I trust Kerrie kept you entertained?”
She smiled politely at him. “She did. We were discussing how The Church is run.”
“Mostly on its own. I don’t have to worry about it up here much. I just have to make sure Kerrie doesn’t run herself into the ground with overworking.”
Kerrie rolled her eyes, which only made Reese like her more.
They continued talking for a little longer. Long enough for the clients to go back to the next session, which turned out to be where they watched an educational video. Reese was led back outside with Tyler and Kerrie. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day with a clear blue sky and not a cloud in sight.
“Well, I hope you liked The Church. I think it or Tindle Street are the best on campus, personally.”
Tyler smirked at that but didn’t say anything. Reese was getting the idea that there were cliques as far as the counselors went.
“Thank you for sharing with me, and it was nice to meet you,” she said, and she meant it. She liked the woman.
“Hey, Kerrie,” a smooth voice called from behind her.
Reese turned to find the source of the voice, and her heart stopped.
A woman, dressed in a tight gray T-shirt and blue jeans with a few stains, strode up the ramp, a confident swagger to her hips that held a tool belt. An actual tool belt with a hammer and other things one puts into it. When she drew closer, Reese couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the perpetually droopy-lidded brown eyes that locked onto her for a tense moment, then traveled down her body like she was the main entrée of the woman’s last meal on earth.
Jesus, how many lesbians are on this campus?
The woman tilted her head as she raked her hand through her brown locks that looked like something out of a ’90s boy band. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
