Jackson munched on another chip. “And she has a funny name, right?”
“Yeah. Judi Dench.”
I smiled. Her name matched Alfie’s personality so well.
“So dogs really are nonnegotiable in his life,” Jackson pointed out, rather unhelpful for a therapist.
“I know,” I whined, banging my head on his desk.
“I thought we were making progress with the dog stuff?”
I let out a frustrated breath. “So did I—until I ended up in the fetal position.”
“Look, I know I said I wouldn’t gossip about you, but I could talk to Dr. Fellows in an official capacity, and we could work out a plan if you’re interested.”
I was despondent as I bit into my sandwich, considering his words.
“Gid, buddy, what’s this look?”
“I really thought I could avoid, you know, actually confronting the dog stuff. Like, in the real world.”
He snorted. “What made you think that?”
His amused look was starting to piss me off.
“Why is that funny?”
“Because,” he said, picking up his sandwich again. After taking a big bite, he continued, “This whole time you’ve been open and vulnerable, even with the really hard stuff. But now we’re looking at this core issue, and you’re acting like a little bitch.”
“Are therapists supposed to call their patients bitches? While eating with their mouths full?”
“You’re not my patient today,” he said, taking another bite. “You brought me lunch, which makes you my friend, and I will definitely call my friends a little bitch if they’re acting like one.”
“So does this mean I get the friends-and-family discount on today’s session?”
“Fuck no,” he said, wiping his mouth. “This is still America.”
We both laughed, but something inside felt quiet.
“You may be right,” I said, looking at my sandwich. “Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me that it’s time.”
“Fuck the universe, it’s me. I’m the one saying it’s time,” he cracked. “And I don’t think it will be as difficult as all that.”
“You have way more faith in me than I do.”
I took a few more bites of my sandwich to avoid his face, which had never hidden his opinion. When I finally made eye contact again, he arched a brow, which meant I had to explain what I meant.
Annoying.
I put down my sandwich, shaking my head. “When she started barking, I couldn’t remember a damn calming mechanism to save my life. It was as if all of this time I’d spent in therapy hadn’t changed a thing.”
I was challenging him, but he wasn’t taking the bait.
“Maybe instead of insulting me on my lunch break, we can shift your perspective,” he said, his eyes a little too knowing. “Is it possible that this is just a matter of practice?”
“Maybe,” I grumped, taking another bite.
“Have you been practicing with your brother’s pit bulls?”
