Page 108 of Kylie

Kylie

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Briggs asked as I followed her down the hallway, past the reception desk, to her office at the back of the small building.

Something smelled good. I wasn’t sure whether it was her or the air. It was an intriguing combination of citrus and spice. Whatever it was, it was pleasantly soothing.

It felt a bit strange to be here, but not as awkward as I had anticipated. Being that Piper was one of Travis’s many cousins—Piper’s mother, Maryanne, was Curtis’s baby sister—I knew her on a casual basis. I’d seen her around town and at various family functions. I wouldn’t say we were necessarily close, but I liked her immensely. She was also Kate’s psychiatrist and had been since shortly after my daughter was kidnapped. I’d come to a few sessions when Kate invited me, but left some of those discussions to be between doctor and patient, trusting that Piper would do right by my daughter. From what I could tell, she definitely had.

“I’ve been worse,” I answered easily. It was the same response I’d used numerous times when well-meaning people asked.

“But you’ve also been better.” Dr. Briggs turned and offered a smile and a gentle wave in the direction of the couches and chairs. “Have a seat. Anywhere you’d like.”

Making my way to the cream-colored leather couches, I took Piper in. She looked the same as she had before. In fact, I wasn’t sure she’d aged a day in the past two years. Having gotten her height from the Walker side of her gene pool, she was tall for a woman. Somewhere close to six feet in the relatively tame heels on her cute black ankle boots. I wasn’t sure where she got her sense of style, but I had to admit, I was jealous. Between her short, sleek, dark hair that framed her pretty face, the rectangular-framed glasses perched on her perfectly angled nose, the pinstriped black slacks, and the white, silk button-down shirt she wore, Piper looked as though she should be sitting at a desk in a corporate office with a big city backdrop, not here, in this relatively plain little space.

Taking a seat on one of the cream leather couches, I peered around, checking out my surroundings. On the far side of the room, there was a four-legged white desk with a small filing cabinet on one end and a closed MacBook on top. There on the desk was a candle—Bath & Body Works: Orange + Ginger, which explained the lovely smell—the three little flames on the tips of the wicks dancing gently. The desk was positioned in front of a picture window overlooking a courtyard that held a pedestal bird bath and numerous rose bushes, which were likely beautiful in the spring, but I honestly couldn’t remember whether I’d ever noticed.

In here, the room was designed to be unobtrusive, the taupe walls likely meant to be soothing. A direct contradiction to the box of tissues sitting on the coffee table that separated the two couches and the two matching chairs that flanked each end of the small conversational space.

“It feels weird bein’ here,” I admitted when Dr. Briggs took her seat across from me.

“How so?”

I placed my palms flat on the cushions beside me and peered around. “This was always Kate’s space in my mind.”

“And now you share this space?”

Glancing down at my lap, I nodded. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

“Does that worry you?”

I shook my head and looked up, meeting her gaze. “I figure since I’ve been home for twenty days, I should start attempting to move forward.” I forced a smile. “So go on, Dr. Briggs. Do your worst.”

She smiled, her features softening. “This isn’t an interrogation, Kylie.”

“I know,” I said defensively.

“Do you?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure what you want to know.”

“Why don’t we take it slow. Let’s just talk and we’ll see where it goes.”

Nodding, I stared at the box of tissues. Funny how something so unobtrusive could have such an overwhelming presence.

We sat there in silence for a few heartbeats before Dr. Briggs said, “A moment ago, you said you should start attempting to move forward. Do you not think you’ve already been moving forward?”

At least she was lobbing an easy one my way. And yes, I had expected her to jump right in. I appreciated it, in fact. What else were we going to do? I mean, I was paying her for the hour, so she had her professional hat on.

I swallowed and met her gaze. “It’s been one year, nine months, and sixteen days since I died.”

Dr. Briggs nodded.

“Seventy-six days since Kieran carried me out of that shit hole.”

“Does it help you to measure the time by days?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I think I’ve just been doin’ it for so long, it feels natural.”

“All of those numbers measure a different event in your life, Kylie. Very significant events. One is the amount of time since you were taken, which altered your life in immeasurable ways.”