Page 188 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

TWO

The red circle around July twentieth both taunted and promised Johnathan Marcello. It was just a date—a single date among many on the calendar. One of the nurses at Clearview Oaks had given him the calendar months ago when he first arrived. Each month showcased a different picture of the facility’s grounds.

The older nurse had suggested that crossing off dates on the calendar would give him some sort of satisfaction. It hadn’t, of course. Not until he knew his release date.

Now, every little black X in permanent marker felt like another chain coming undone from his body. And yet, the closer he got to that big red circle, the tighter the invisible rope became around his throat.

Strange how that worked.

“Nervous, John?”

He spun on his heels to find his therapist leaning in the doorway of his private room. Patients weren’t allowed to have their doors closed unless the doctor was also in the room, and only if the patient was nonviolent. On a suicide watch, the door was never closed. Ever.

“Well?” Leonard pressed.

“For what?”

“Your chosen release date is coming up. Three weeks away.”

John passed the calendar one more look. “I like how you posed that as if I chose when I could leave, when actually—”

“You did choose.”

Leonard smiled when John glanced back at him.

“You made it clear you didn’t think I was ready to go,” John said pointedly.

The older man shrugged. “Yes, well, you weren’t. Every little medication change sent you into another round, and we had trouble getting you settled with the right dose of Lithium. Never mind the actual therapy, John.”

“I am, though. A little nervous, I mean.”

“All normal, considering.”

“I’m looking forward to it, too.”

“As you should,” Leonard replied. “I’m curious, though, what has you the most nervous.”

John laughed under his breath. Running this fingers through his hair, he once again turned to face the calendar. Leonard had a way of pushing John into talking about things beyond the surface of what he presented to the world. The therapist had no problem with really digging into the crux of John’s issues.

About life.

His family.

Being bipolar.

Out of the many, many therapists John had gone through in his life, Leonard was—by far—the best for him personally. Sure, he didn’t always like what the older man had to say. He didn’t particularly appreciate being forced to drag out old issues and dirty laundry to reexamine. That didn’t mean Leonard’s tactics were useless.

They weren’t.

They worked.

They worked especially well for John.

What more could he ask for?

“Well?” the therapist pressed when John stayed quiet. “What has you nervous—reentering life, integrating with your family again … her?”

John swallowed hard.