Hi, Dr. Ellie. Are you available Monday for an emergency session?
I hit send.
Something told me I was going to need the session.
Markie shuffled across the back of the couch and looked at me. “BAD DOG.”
“Yes,” I said. “Thank you for your continued commentary.”
“INTRUDER.”
“That situation has resolved.” I rubbed my face. The apartment felt too full and too empty at the same time.
The flowers made it feel that way. The chair made it worse. The quiet had a weight to it that I didn’t want to sit with any longer tonight.
I grabbed a travel mug from the cabinet and poured a generous amount of wine into it. Then I added a little more.
The moon was visible through the kitchen window, and the sidewalks around my building were quiet. The neighborhood had wide streets and tall trees, and the kind of calm that made a late walk feel reasonable even after a long day.
My ankle had been feeling better too.
Movement seemed like a good idea.
Fresh night air was even better.
I put on my tennis shoes and took my time tying them, deciding now would be a good time for some deep breaths. It was surprisingly effective.
Grabbing my jacket, I headed to the door. My phone started ringing before I reached it. I looked down at the screen.
Mom.
Of course. The fucking cherry on top of this fan-fucking-tastic day.
I leaned my head briefly against the door as I answered. “Hi, Mom.”
“Zoey!” she said brightly. The enthusiasm alone told me this conversation was going to require patience.
“Yes?”
“I left my debit card at the bar.”
I closed my eyes. “You what?”
“I think I left it there earlier tonight.”
“Youthink?”
“I was wondering if you could check my bank account for me and make sure nobody has used it.”
I stared at the wall. “Mom.”
“Yes?”
“You need to call the bank and have them cut off the card.”
“Well, I know that.”
“Then do that.”
