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She wasn’t reaching her. Phyllis could feel the girl slipping away.
“So what else would you say you have going for you?” she asked, truly interested. She really liked Sophie, liked the determination she read in the girl’s eyes, the ready intelligence.
And she sympathized with the vulnerability she could see just below the surface.
“I’ll tell you one thing…” Sophie said, her eyes suddenly alight in a way Phyllis hadn’t seen yet. The girl’s face took on a whole new beauty, an ethereal, otherworldly aura. And Phyllis had thought her gorgeous before.
“…but only if you promise not t
o tell anyone.” Sophie looked at her intently. “Isn’t there some kind of oath or something you guys take that says you can’t tell secrets?”
“If I was a practicing psychologist, yes,” Phyllis said with an easy smile. Sophie, for all her maturity in some areas, was endearingly young in others. “But you don’t have to worry,” she said. “The one thing I’m good at is listening to people—helping them—and you can’t do that if you hear and then tell.” She paused. “The only person I might say anything to is Matt, but only under appropriate circumstances.” Phyllis had to be honest about that.
“Well…” Sophie hesitated. With her head lowered again, she looked up at Phyllis, away and then back. Her knee was bobbing. But, as she leaned forward, creating a mood of confidentiality, it stopped.
“You were going to tell me something,” Phyllis prompted gently when it appeared that Sophie was having a hard time getting started.
“I have the love of the most amazing man at Montford,” the girl said in a rush.
“You do.” Phyllis was a little taken aback. Usually eating disorders were a manifestation of feeling unloved.
“Yeah. I’ve known for a while, but you’re the first person I’ve told.”
“And do you love him back?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Sophie pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, and Phyllis got a good look at the fuzz on her arms. The girl showed every sign of anorexia. So where was the problem that was prompting the disease? Unless…
“Is he married?”
“Of course not!” Sophie said, sitting back. “I’d never go for a married man. I am not going to be like my mom.” The girl’s knee started to bob again.
They’d come back to that one later.
“So tell me about this man.”
Sophie was obviously trying to hold back a smile and then gave up. Lucky man, whoever he was.
“He’s gorgeous, for one,” she said. “Black hair, taller than I am, slim, but he has all the right muscles in all the right places.”
It fit that, obsessed as she was with her own physical appearance, she’d think of the man in terms of looks first. The girl was a case of classic anorexia/bulimia. Every minute in her company made Phyllis more certain of that.
“He’s got hair on his chest, but his back is completely smooth,” the girl continued.
So Sophie knew this man intimately, Phyllis concluded, adding this information to the mental list she was compiling.
“My third stepfather had hair all over his back. It was totally gross, like he was some kind of gorilla or something. He used to walk around the house with his shirt off. Ugh.” Sophie shivered.
And Phyllis wondered if the man had done anything else to offend the sensibilities of a developing young woman. Another subject they’d return to. If they got the chance.
“So this guy you’re in love with is handsome,” Phyllis said, guiding Sophie back. If they were going to get anywhere, they had to stay on track, examine the issues one at a time.
“Yeah, but he’s far more than that,” Sophie said, her eyes soft as a doe’s. “He’s responsible, reliable. He’s smarter than I am, and the greatest artist I’ve ever known.” She glanced at Phyllis, looking a little embarrassed as tears sprang to her eyes. “His talent is amazing to me, Dr. Langford,” she said. “There’s no end to the images and illusions he can come up with.”
Phyllis could relate. She’d thought the very same thing about Matt’s talent that day she’d spent with him in the theater.
Of course, with Phyllis, it had just been an appreciation of talent.
