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So once upon a time, I was Manhattan’s biggest manwhore. But now, I’m just…me.
A soft knock on the door shakes me from my thoughts. I look up from my desk. “Come in.”
Susanna comes in a second later, her hands filled with stacks of mail and another coffee. “I thought you’d need this”—sheraises the coffee—“to deal with this.” She then goes on to hold up the many envelopes and parcels.
“Great. One of the joys of working part-time.”
“You could always come back full time?” Susanna suggests, hopeful I fire her archnemesis.
I can’t help but laugh. “Miss me, Ms. Vale?”
She looks down at the untidy desk and sighs. “You have no idea.”
Susanna had no interest in working for two psychiatrists, so she’s organized her work days to coincide with mine. I’m pleased she’s done so as she deserves the rest, but as she’s told me many times, she’ll rest when she’s dead.
Even though their paths rarely cross, the tornado of Dr. Caffey and her personal assistant, Bianca, leaves enough debris in their wake to remind poor Susanna that we’re no longer alone. “I miss the good old days,” she confesses, trying to find a place on my desk to set down my mail and coffee.
“I don’t,” I counter, shaking my head.
She stops mid-tidying, looking awfully guilty for her comment. “I didn’t mean—”
But I cut her off. “It’s fine, Ms. Vale. I know what you mean.”
She places my mail down in front of me. “So…how are you?”
I’m unable to conceal my smile because, since my return, this question seems to be her favorite one. I’ve lost count of how many times she’s asked me, but I never grouch because I know she’s just concerned.
“I’m feeling fine, Ms. Vale. Thank you for asking. I’ve written down the number of my shrink, just in case,” I tease while she swats me on the arm.
“I’m glad you’re back to your old self. I missed you.” She turns serious, as do I.
“I did, too.” It’s just too bad I had to lose everything to find myself again.
The mood becomes too somber for my liking, so I reach for the top envelope, preferring to deal with bills than my regrets.
One of the many things I love about Susanna is that she knows when not to hover. This is one of those times. She places the cup of coffee to my left, and it’s immediately back to business. “Your next appointment will be here in fifteen minutes. I’ll page you once he’s here.”
As she makes her way to the door, I quickly thank her. “Thank you, Ms. Vale.”
She turns over her shoulder and smiles, understanding that my gratitude extends far further than her just being the best secretary there is. She gently closes the door behind her while I exhale steadily.
Not interested in focusing on anything but work, I make my way through the mountain of mail, most of which is bills or junk. However, when I see the signature label of my attorney on a white envelope, I quickly tear it open and frantically read over what the contents entail.
I read over the material twice, needing to ensure that what I’m reading is actually true.
Dear Dr. Mathews,
Congratulations…you are not the father.
I owe you a beer.
Sincerely,
Burt Keith.
I scan through the attached papers, which are the paternity tests displaying how my DNA doesn’t match up to Duncan’s. Who the hell is…oh, she had a boy? A boy who is clearly not mine. As I look over the results, I don’t know whether I’m relieved or not, which is absurd. This is exactly the outcome I wanted. Or was it?
Of course I want nothing to do with Juliet, but in a morbid way, it would have been nice to have someone in my life I could have called my own. Someone who could have kept a small part of me alive once I’m gone. And someone who could write on my headstone that I was loved and a good man.
