‘Yeah.’ I paused, thinking about my parents. ‘You’ve got a good memory. I never really was a child – my parents treated me like a colleague rather than an offspring.’ I laughed, and reached into the side pocket of my briefcase to pull out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. ‘I bought these at a drugstore when I was twelve years old so I could look smart, like their students at the university.’ I studied the glasses for a few seconds. ‘I don’t know why I keep them.’ I shrugged.
‘Don’t you?’
Let’s not go there today.
‘Not consciously.’
She gave the therapist’s nod. ‘We can explore that when you’re ready. You said your desire to be a psychologist, to actually mingle with other human beings, baffled your parents.’ Nancy retrieved her teacup. ‘They couldn’t comprehend why you’d want to specialise in the messy realm of emotions rather than pure logic, why you’d want to discuss meaningless things like feelings.’
‘Yes.’ I inhaled a deep breath and released it. ‘If my mother ever did anything as time-wasting as embroidery, she’d have stitched that saying onto a pillow – Feelings Are Meaningless. It took me years to acknowledge some of my own emotions without guilt.’ Talking about my parents always caused a heavy sensation in my stomach. I returned the glasses to the briefcase and shook off the negative energy from my mental visit to the past. ‘I don’t wear the glasses any more, and as long as I keep the conversation on psychology, I can make a little small talk at conferences. I’ve come a long way.’
‘You have.’ Nancy looked at me with compassion in her eyes. ‘You should be very proud of yourself. But, as we’ve discussed before, if you really want to increase your confidence around men and have a good relationship at some point, you’ll need to take the next step. What if you set a goal of walking up to a handsome man and starting a conversation? Can you imagine that?’
‘Gak!’ I held my hands up, forming a cross with my index fingers as if warding off a vampire. ‘Why don’t you just ask me to shed my clothes and run down the 16th Street Mall?’
‘Really?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘You actually see those things as equal? Kismet! What are we going to do with you? I know you had a bad experience with your ex-boyfriend Tom—’
‘Tom!’ I smacked my palms against my thighs. ‘I can’t believe I forgot. I saw him yesterday. He’s in Denver. It was wonderful.’
‘Wonderful? Tom?’ She pressed a hand against her chest as her mouth dropped open. ‘Please don’t tell me you decided to get back together with him. We talked about what a flawed individual he is.’
‘Get back together with him? Not in this or any other reality. The wonderful part was the lightbulb that went off over my head. Lightbulb? Hell – it was a red-carpet spotlight! I finally saw him with absolute crystal clarity. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before, but that doesn’t matter. For the first time since I met him years ago, I felt nothing. Well, revulsion, certainly, but nothing that would make me lose my mind and reconcile. It was a great experience! I wish you could’ve been there.’
Caught up in my enthusiasm, Nancy clapped her hands. ‘Yes! I’m so happy for you. Maybe setting the new goal won’t seem so out of the question now?’
I gave a loud sigh and sat back in my seat. ‘Even thinking about talking to a good-looking man gives me cramps. I’m such a coward.’ Acknowledging that fact felt bad, even to Nancy, whom I trusted.
‘You aren’t a coward,’ Nancy said, shaking a finger in my direction. ‘You simply never learned to be social, to make non-professional small talk. You know shy people are totally misunderstood. It’s not as if you choose to feel the way you do.’ She drank from her cup again and replaced it on the table.
If you really knew me – knew about the weird psychic flashes – you might see me differently. Hearing things other people don’t hear. Seeing things, feeling things. My childhood was a strange trip down a demented Yellow Brick Road. I’m not brave enough to tell even you about that. Right now I know you’re worried about me. You wish you could go back and heal my childhood and you’re afraid I’ll never get past the hurtful experiences. I wish I could tell you how scary it is to be like me. I don’t want to know those things. Makes me feel crazy. Especially since I can’t count on the abilities – they only show up when they want to. Maybe I have more in common with my clients than I think.
‘Yes, well.’ I kept my voice light and steady, ‘talking about it’s the easy part. I think it will take a miracle to blast me out of my nerd persona.’ I pointed to my feet. ‘I’m lucky I remember to wear matching shoes. Hey’ – I laughed – ‘maybe my client can introduce me to one of her imaginary vampires and he can entrance me with his hypnotic eyes and change my personality. That would be something to write about, wouldn’t it?’
She smiled, completely aware of my distracting manoeuvre. ‘I have absolute faith in your ability to take on any challenge you set for yourself. And I’m always here to help.’
We consulted on a couple of my long-term clients and talked about an upcoming conference, then I left and drove to my office.
I rode up in the elevator and walked along the hallway. The door to my waiting room was open. The cleaning crew had probably forgotten to lock it again. I wasn’t expecting anyone for another hour, at least.
‘Midnight?’
My newest client sat, tapping her feet on the carpet, dressed in a floor-length dark-blue dress adorned with sparkling stars, and a burgundy velvet cape. The sleeves were long enough to cover her arms all the way to mid-hand. Black lace-up stiletto-heeled boots completed the outfit.
‘Oh, hi, Dr Knight. I hope you don’t mind that I came early. I know my appointment isn’t until later.’
She doesn’t seem upset. But she’s acting different . . .
‘Is everything okay?’
Her lips spread, showing her delicate fake fangs. ‘Yes. Everything’s fine.’ She held up a large leather portfolio. ‘I just couldn’t wait. After our meeting I got all kinds of ideas for drawings, and since you sort of inspired them, I wanted to get here early and show them to you.’ Her smile crumpled and her gaze skimmed the carpet. ‘But you’re probably too busy to look at pictures. I should’ve thought of that.’
She expects me to reject her.
‘Drawings? You’re willing to share them with me? That’s great. Please, come on in – I’d love to see them.’
We walked across the waiting room. She flashed a little-girl smile and stood, clutching the portfolio against her chest, waiting for me to unlock the door to my office.
This is a good sign.
I escorted her inside, closed the door, and set my briefcase on my desk.
‘How do you want to do this?’ I asked. ‘You can display them on the couches and chairs, or however you like.’
‘Okay. I’ll set them up.’ She literally skipped into the room.
To give her some privacy, I opened my briefcase and rummaged inside, looking for my appointment book. Then I turned on my computer, watching her arrange her display out of the corner of my eye.
‘I’m ready. Come and look,’ she said, hugging herself. ‘I’ll tell you about each of the sketches. Some of them are just rough outlines, so don’t expect much.’
I walked over to stand next to her in front of the longest couch where she’d propped several pencil drawings of people. ‘Oh, wow – these are gorgeous,’ I said, and meant it. ‘You are really talented.’
‘Really?’ She straightened, obviously pleased. ‘You think so? This is a picture of my mother.’ She pointed to a sketch of a tired-looking, sad woman staring off into space. Despite the hopelessness of the picture, it was apparent the woman was beautiful – or had been, before life wore her down. I didn’t know anything about art or drawing, but even I could tell the work was excellent.
‘Midnight, you really have a gift. That’s an amazing picture of your mother. I can see the resemblance between you.’