“It’s not that kind of relationship,” I cut her off. I feel the immediate urge to clarify that I am in no way, shape, or form anything more than a friend to Naomi. Aside from the fact that I’ve known her since diapers, her six-foot-tall husband is a big enough deterrent to that possibility.
“Oh, I don’t mean that way, I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“I just want to make it clear, I don’t have a relationship with Naomi outside of close friendship. I don’t have a relationship at all inthatsense,” I say hoarsely, a twinge of embarrassment karate chopping me in the throat.
“Right. Well, if you have a close friendship with Naomi, even if you know Devon personally, you could naturally project your feelings for his mom onto him because he might remind you of her and she’s important to you. Countertransference.” She stifles a laugh. “It can be difficult to separate that from here. But I think you’re doing a great job, and he obviously trusts you to agree to meet with me just because you asked him to.”
Relaxing into my chair I ask, “Have you experienced this countertransference thing?”
“That discussion calls for more coffee.” She smirks at me.
Eager to hear more from that nerdy brain of hers, I slap my knees and stand. “Then let’s go.”
We walk out of my office together and head to the lounge for our morning cream with a splash of coffee. I was growing very fond of my morning coffee with Ellie, and the fact that we took our coffee the same was doing something to my heart that I couldn’t explain.
It’s now the beginning of October and the school is entering into their Harry Potter decor phase—red and gold colors everywhere, fake candles hanging from lockers, pumpkins on the floor, and there’s an attempt at an enchanted sky with old rusted twinkle lights from Bill’s janitorial closet.
We walk instep and I tell her about my morning dealing with Frankie and her attitude towards the change in weather.
“I guess it’s colder for a hairless cat.” She chuckles.
“Frankie was meow-screaming at me because all she had on was a vest. I finally swapped it for her black hoodie with a pink bow on the front. Dressing up a cat . . .” I shake my head as I ramble out loud and she laughs louder. “Am I a cat man? Is a cat man a thing? Not to be confused with Batman,obviously.”
“Obviously.” Her confident response reaffirms my weird train of thought. Ellie does that a lot—reaffirms me. It feels nice.
“I bet if Batman dressed up a hairless cat it would actually look cool.” I laugh, mostly at myself.
“You are super cool.” She places her hand on my arm.
“God, I really sound sad, don’t I?” I run my hand down my face.
She laughs at me. “I think it’s endearing.”
“I seem to ramble a lot when we’re together.”
“I don’t mind it. You’re easy to listen to, even if it’snonsense.” She gives me a wink.
I chuckle. “Thanks for the reassurance.”
“Really, it’s like you trust me to be your completely, unfiltered self. It feels special.” Her shoulders raise as she wraps her arms around her waist, snuggling into her cardigan.
I stop walking to face her. “I just really like talking to you.”
Ellie touches the side of her cheek, her eyes moving across my face. I can’t tell if what I said was a good thing or if it made this entire moment awkward. And then, she grins that soft, sweet smile at me. A smile that is ingrained forever in my memory.
I smile down at her, taking her all in. Her dark hair is pulled into a high bun, green eyes sparkling from the twinkle lights. Her pink lips are shiny today, filling me with a teenage urge to meet her under the bleachers.
I shake the forbidden image out of my head and force my eyes away.Not allowed.
We walk into our break room, instantly hit with the smell of scorching coffee grounds—the strong stuff. I practically choke on the air, the fumes potent. Malcolm is the only one in the room, sitting in complete darkness with his personal pot within arms reach.
I whisper to Ellie, “Don’t mention my Catman spiral.”
Flipping on the light, Malcolm lets out a grunt.
“Good morning, Mr. Geer!” I pat Malcolm on the back.
Another grunt response.
