“Got it. Until next week, Doc.”
And he rises, holding my gaze, with a slight spark glinting behind his eyes. Sitting with Josh reminds me of my days with the State, and the patients that I would interview day in and day out. I rehash our session in my head the entire drive back to Pearson House. Thank God Bea was coming over tomorrow. I need to shake this feeling off.And I need to make a decision about him.
____________________
“God it really is beautiful out here,” Bea remarks, setting her glass of wine down on the wood railing of the porch. She tosses a wave of honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “This would be a truly epic place for an outdoor fuck. No prying eyes around to see you.”
I splutter on my sip of wine while I look sideways at her. “Jesus, Bea,” I exclaim.
“What?” she asks with an innocent shrug.“No one is around. And it’s girls’ night, after all.”
“Well, I can just about promise you, that is not in my future,”I say.
“Hmm,” she starts, her brow furrowing, “I disagree, Kitty Kat. I think maybe we just haven’t found the right man for you yet.” I fix her with a doubtful gaze.
“Oh, come on, Kat! He’s out there,” she says, gesturing to the ravine and the woods beyond Pearson House, “the one!”
“The one!” I repeat, scoffing. “Please, Bea. I know you’re little miss optimist and all, but you need to get real here. I’m a mess. All dark and twisty. And perpetually alone. No one in their right mind would love me.”
“Well first of all, please shut up, becauseIlove you. Second of all, who says he has to be in his right mind? The right one will love you for exactly who you are—including all your dark and twisty bits. Maybe even more so because of them.”
She’s not wrong, I think.
“And you’re not alone,” Bea adds. “You have me.”
“I know I do,” I say, and the words come out hoarse.
I breathe out a sigh and take a long sip of wine. I follow Bea’s gaze out to the tree line, and the sunset descends below the horizon. My thoughts flit to Zayn. Unknowingly, Bea had just gestured directly to his childhood home. Again, Zayn’shandsome face drifts to the forefront of my mind. My mind indulges an image of him as “the one.” His dimples and bright white teeth shining as he folds me into his arms. I shake my head back and forth, dispelling the image.
I consider telling Bea about him and the stunt he pulled in my office earlier in the week. But the thought fades away quickly as I imagine all of the questions she would undoubtedly have for me. Questions I didn’t yet know how to answer. Like why I couldn’t get the chiseled angle of his jaw, or the way his sea blue eyes sparkled out of my head.
Idly, I wonder when Zayn moved out of the Bronwin Home, and if anyone still lived there anymore. Only knowing of Zayn, but never really knowing him well, it was hard to imagine where he went in life. Had he gone to college? Escaped Greenwood the very first chance he’d had? Had he stayed here in town? If I recalled correctly, his father, Mr. Bronwin, had served in Vietnam. A war vet. I wonder if Zayn had chosen a similar path.
I remember an old, twisting pathway that led from the house into the woods and through the little clearing there. The path stretched all the way to the ancient Bonn’s Ruins, and directly to the Bronwin family home. Though, I’m sure the path must be all grown over by now. Mr. Bronwin had died some years ago; I remember my father telling me. And to my knowledge, there had never been a replacement groundskeeper for the property hired.I make a mental note to look through more of Dad’s records tonight after Bea leaves.
Bea gives a little shiver beside me as the sky begins to darken.
“Let’s head inside,” I suggest.
I follow Bea across the porch and into Pearson House, shivering now myself. My phone pulses steadily and I dig it out of my back pocket.Fuck.My therapist. Again. I ignore the call, sending it to voicemail as I lock the French doors behindme. A minute later, my phone pings with a new voicemail. Surreptitiously, I raise the cell to my ear to listen to it.
“Hi, Katherine. It’s Dr. Goldman again. Just trying to get ahold of you. Look, you’ve no showed for our last two sessions, and I’m guessing that means you no longer want to proceed with therapy. That’s fine, but I do hope you are still taking your medication as prescribed…” I quickly end the voicemail as Bea whips around to face me.
“More wine?” she asks with a sweet smile.
I force a smile onto my face and nod yes.
I am such a shitty patient. I would terminate treatment with me, too.Jesus Christ.
____________________
An hour later, I watch Bea’s shiny white SUV pull out of the long drive. I wave to her, and she honks her horn once as a farewell.
Once she’s gone, I close and lock the door, heading to the primary bedroom. I am sure there must be record of payment for a groundskeeper around here somewhere. The rosebushes are looking too perfectly manicured to have been left to fend for themselves.
I open up his handwritten ledgers and don’t find any checks issued that I haven’t already pored over. Nothing to any landscaping companies or with the name Bronwin on it at all.
I rotate slowly in dad’s leather desk chair. It still smells of his cigars and scotch in here. I remember that Dad had kept a stash of personal items, as well as some family photos in an old legal box in the walk-in closet of the primary bedroom. I close the door to his office with a gentle snick and pad down the hallway towards his room.My room now.
