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I laugh. “Where to start. Jesus, how about the fact that I killed my parents and little sister? Is that a quirk? Can you fix that, Doc?” I drag a hand through my messy hair and drum the other nervously on my leg.
“So, you killed your family? Did you use a gun to do it?”
“What? No!”
“Okay. A knife?”
“Christ, Doc. No! They died in a car accident. Fuck, I wouldn’t murder them. I fucking loved them!”
“Oh, well you said you killed them. I could only assume you meant murder.” The doctor stares at me. His light eyes hold no judgment, no pity, no emotion of any kind except interest. “So you were driving the car, then?”
“What? No! We were hit by a drunk driver.” My leg begins to bounce in time with my fingers.
“I see. So you didn’t kill them. I must have misunderstood.”
Now I’m pissed off. I bring my hands to my head and grip my hair, pulling in frustration. “You’re not listening, Doc. I called them to come get me! I took ecstasy at a party and the entitled douchebags I was with left me passed out on the beach alone! My family was in the car, on that road, because of me!”
The doctor leans forward, smiling, clasping his hands together. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Abby
“Justin, you look great!”
The young man in front of me is a far cry from the one I first met. This man is smiling, flashing adorable dimples I never knew he had. His dark blond hair is shining and healthy, carefully tousled into a faux-hawk. He’s gained some weight and must be working out because his face is fuller and his chest and shoulders look wider.
“I feel great, Dr. Kessler.” Justin crosses the room, arms open, and wraps me up in a hug.
“I’m so happy for you, Justin.” I blink back tears. I can’t cry in front of a patient. It would be totally unprofessional, even if they are tears of happiness.
“Me too, Dr. Kessler.” Justin steps back, releasing me. He drops into his usual chair, sprawled out like a typical young college kid.
“You had a birthday recently. How did that go?” I listen, thrilled as Justin describes the good time he had on his birthday.
“I had a test coming up, so you know, I couldn’t go out all night and party. Plus, Dr. Mendel said I can’t drink alcohol with my meds.”
“And you’re only twenty, Justin,” I tease.
He grins. “Yeah, that too. But I went to the beach with some guys from my dorm and we had a blast.” Justin looks ready to burst with excitement.
I laugh at his enthusiasm. I’ve never seen him like this, and it’s definitely not mania. Justin is happy.
“So I guess the retreat we found helped?” I ask, referring to the private mental health resort in Arizona that specializes in treating bipolar disorder.
“It was awesome, Dr. Kessler.” Justin bites his thumbnail, his brow scrunching for a moment. “To be honest, I hated it at first. Being forced to go to all those group therapy sessions sucked. But once I heard other people speaking, how their problems sounded just like mine, it didn’t seem so bad.”
I smile. “That’s great, Justin. What else would you like to talk about?”
“Well…” He ducks his head and his ears turn bright red. “I might have a girlfriend.”
My heart nearly bursts with joy. This… this is what I would have wanted for Nick. I can’t change the past. I mean, most of the medications Justin takes didn’t even exist ten years ago. But when I see how happy Justin is, the aching hole inside doesn’t hurt as much.
* * *
Rain is so rare in Southern California, I don’t bother keeping an umbrella in the car. Fortunately, the drizzle is light, a gauzy mist that clings to everything instead of actual raindrops falling. My shoes are soaked by the time I weave through the rows of headstones and monuments to find the right one.
I put my hand on the smooth, glasslike surface, tracing the etched letters with a finger.
Nicholas Ford Kessler
