AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Throughout high school things changed. Mainly my color preference. I had subtle incorporations of a light gray. The gray would be in the stripes of my plaid or the lining of my jacket. It would be in the underside of my baseball caps or the outer design of the bag I carried. Nothing was sacred. My damn boxers were even gray.
It took me years to realize I’d unwittingly incorporated the color into everything I could see. Why? Why else. It matched the eye color of the woman who owned my heart at the time. Once I understood why the color was included in everything I owned, I purposefully changed the color of my wardrobe back to blue. We were no longer together, and I didn’t want a reminder. Anything from my time with her, I immediately tossed into a room where I keep a bunch of shit I don’t want.
Seeing them was a constant reminder of something I didn’t have. I’m not one who willingly accepts that I can’t have something. In this case, I had no other choice. She chose for me.
“Have you given any thought to what we talked about yesterday?”
Quickly turning, I see that Dr. Embers has an expectant look on her face. A slow smile spreads on her lips. It’s there because she knows I wasn’t paying attention. She’s caught me.
“Right.”
I dig my wallet out of my back pocket. Pulling out a ten, I put a ten into the donation jar on one of the black barrel style tables in front of me. Normally, it’s five dollars. I double it because I know I’m prone to do get lost in my thoughts again. This is a given. Paying a cost for wasting any of our time is supposed to deter me from doing it again. So far, it’s not working. Believing I sawherisn’t helping. As a matter of fact, it’s making it worse.
I clear my throat and sit forward on the couch. It’s an ongoing joke between us. I don’t have to sit on the couch. I’m only here because Dr. Embers was asked to check on me. She’s over a few groups we have here at Hope House. We also went on a date a long time ago. It was fun but we quickly understood there was nothing between the two of us. We’ve been frequent associates and maintained a friendly attachment because of HFH.
“Run it by me again. Please.”
She quirks a dark eyebrow. The hint of red eyeshadow gives the look a bit more of an edge. I smirk because the intimidation look suits her. It works in her favor.
“Mr. Shaw, why did you come see me today?”
I glance her way before standing and walking to one of the windows. She turns in the chair at the table where she sits when any of her patients visit her office. It’s gives her the freedom she needs to observe them and how they respond to freely explore the space. They get to determine what’s comfortable for them. There are several choices in the room. One is directly across from her at the bean-shaped table. There is another convertible table that seats four in a more traditional style seating area.
I’ve sat at that table once. Just to have the experience. We had tea. Some of the best tea I’ve ever tasted. Where they sit tells her a little something about them. She refuses to tell me what each seat means.
“Dr. Embers, I don’t know if I’m ready for group sessions. I’ve barely gotten used to individual meetings.”
“Good to know you know you are willing to answer a question. Even if it isn’t the one I’m presently asking.” She writes something on the notepad she pulls closer to her. I may not currently be her patient, but she notates everything. “Still not the one I asked, but a response was given. Progress.”
I chuckle because it’s one of the things I’m always being given shit about. I don’t answer a direct question and I do things in my own damn time. I’m never on anyone else timetable. That’s the controlling asshole side of me. I make no apologies for it.
“Salty, Doc?”
Dr. Embers glances up from her notepad to glare at me. If I were smarter then I’d tread lightly but I’m not. I smirk as I move to the cabinet that houses two side by side miniature coolers. One houses her lunch and the other beverages. She purchases variety packs of drinks and stores them in her closet. I appreciate not knowing what drink I’m going to find. I pull out a can and see it’s Dr. Pepper. It’s been a while since I had one of these. Shrugging, I retrieve the rest of it.
When I turn around, she’s standing directly in front of me.
“This is yours if you can answer my next two questions without one of your quips.” I’m already prepped to respond when she adds on to this challenge. “I dare you.”
Fuck!
I have to bite back what I want to say. I literally bite my lip. Opening and closing my hands, I look the doctor in her deep, brown eyes.
“Hit me.” That perfectly arched brow wings up again. It’s her turn to fight the urge to respond with a smartass remark. “You know what I mean.”
She chuckles before returning to her seat and setting the drink down on a glass coaster.
“I do. First question, do you think it’s time for you to get back to work ... at your company?”
I wait a beat for her to deliver the second question. When she doesn’t, I groan. I return my seat on the couch. My mind and body won’t allow me to sit anywhere else. I’ve come to see the therapist, so I need to sit on a couch. It feels weird to sit elsewhere. I’ve tried it.
“The second question?” A smile begins to spread on her face, and I quickly amend my response. I add a big sigh before I do. “I hadn’t thought much about it, but I could start going back to ‘the office’. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
The question does make me wonder why I hadn’t come back before now. I guess it was easier. I can’t exactly wallow and drink when I’m here with people who are trying to put their lives back together.
Ding. Ding. Ding. There you have it.
Yeah, sometimes it happens like that. I unwittingly answer the real question asked.
