by Emilia Finn
“Baby, let that boy rub his stubble on your—”
“Mother!” I stop at the office door and scowl. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re disgusting.”
“What? I was gonna say your neck. You dirty girl.”
“You lie. And I’m walking in now, so I have to go.”
“His teeth look good?”
“Mom!” I push the door open and scowl when Calla looks up at the noise I make. “Yes, nice teeth. Nice smile. Though one has this small chip taken out. Now I’m done. I’ll call you tonight.”
“You’re so grumpy when you’re trying to act coy.” She snorts in my ear, only for that to turn into a cackle. “Let’s not pretend you weren’t the girl whose images of doing a kegstand her first year at college did the rounds on social media. You can pretend, honey, and I can pat your hair and pretend with you, but we both know who you are. You’re your mother’s daughter, and Sonia was a witch, remember? The blood is thick in your veins, even when you want to pretend to be serious.”
“I’m hanging up, because you’re frustrating, and possibly unstable. Though of course, without my doctorate, I couldn’t say for sure.”
“Aww, hey, Doogie.”
My head snaps up and to the right to stop on tall, dark, and handsome. “Uh…”
“So I wasn’t wrong.” Luke lounges back on a chair in the corner of Sonia’s waiting room, with his legs splayed wide open, his hat on – despite being inside, and therefore there being no sun to block – and a wicked grin playing over the unshadowed part of his face. “You’re a doctor.” He tilts his head. “A genius doctor.”
“Allyson. Allyson? Allyson. Allyson!”
“Uh… Mom.” I speak into the phone, and wonder if I’m in pain, or just in shock. “I have to go.”
“He’s there, isn’t he? I heard him. I heard his voice! It’s deep,” she purrs. “Sexy and deep.”
“Goodbye, Mother.”
I bring the phone away from my ear and swipe to hang up, then sliding it into my purse, I study Luke for a moment – it must be shock – only to settle on a pithy “What?”
Luke rests his ankle on his opposite knee, and with a playful grin, he bounces the bottom leg so both move. “You talk to your mom a lot?”
“Um…” Definitely shock. “Why?”
He nods toward my bag. “Second time I’ve seen you. Second time you’ve ended a call with your mom. Is she the cool mom, or is she so overbearing that she tempts you to jump off a bridge?”
“Er… both?”
His chest bounces with quiet laughter. “Same here, I guess. My mom is cool as hell, but sometimes…” He shakes his head and lets his sentence remain unfinished. “You here for work, or for brain analysis?”
“Both…?” I repeat, only to finally snap to attention. “I’m sorry, but why are you here?”
“Brain analysis.” Then he smirks. “Court-ordered.”
“Wow.” I take a step back and fix my bag on my arm. “That’s, um… I would lie and say ‘charming,’ but it’s not. Not even a little bit.”
I turn on my heels and make my way past Calla’s desk. She watches me with curiosity burning in her eyes, but she says nothing, does nothing as I storm past and stop at Sonia’s door.
I tap the solid oak for just a moment, but Calla clears the way with a murmured, “You’re good to go in. She’s alone.”
I push the handle down and open the door, and just as quickly, I close it again and press my back to the wood as though to keep intruders out.
Sonia sits at her desk, steaming cup of tea just inches from her elbow as she scans documents on her screen, but at my odd behavior, she stops reading, and instead, spins in her chair to study me. Her brows draw close together and create a severe line between her eyes. “Allyson. Are you okay?”
“Um… I…” I poke a thumb over my shoulder, like that’ll somehow help explain what’s come over me. “Yep.”
“Has the world ended since I arrived at the office, and now the zombies have begun their migration to kill off the stragglers?”
“Er…” Her wild question works to drag me out of my Luke obsession and into something much crazier. “Is that something I should be imminently concerned about? Do you know things you should probably be sharing with your great granddaughter?”
Finally, Sonia smiles and turns back to grab her tea. “No, I think we’re good for a little while longer. Can you share with me what’s freaking you out?”
“Not freaking out.” I’m totally, somewhat, freaking out. “Um… there’s this guy in your waiting room. I met him last week under odd circumstances, but then he was gone, and that was fine,” I add. “I didn’t want to see him again. But I guess I got comfortable thinking I’d made him up. Except, it turns out my imagination isn’t that good, because he’s in—”
“The waiting room.” She purses her lips and gives a gentle bob of her head in acknowledgment. “That’s a little awkward, then, huh? Will you tell me who he is, or shall I check my appointment book?”
“No… Uh… I…” I draw a deep breath, let my bag slide down my arm, and as the condensation runs from the side of my drink and onto my wrist, I set the cup down on a filing cabinet so it immediately begins creating water circles. “Luke somebody. I don’t know his whole name. But he’s, like…” I lift my hand, as though to demonstrate his height. “This tall. Stubble, smartass attitude.” Then I frown. “He called me Doogie.”
“Doogie?”
“Mm.” I try to reason it out while I remain hidden in this office, with my back pressed to the door. “Doogie… Howser? Are there any other Doogies?”
Sonia merely shrugs and takes a sip of her tea.
“Doogie Howser, the… doctor? Yeah, he mentioned something about a doctor. Oh, does he think I’m an actual doctor, like… a surgery doctor?”
“I’m a doctor,” Sonia tosses in just to muddle my brain up a little more. “PhD and a master’s degree means I get to call myself a doctor.”
“I wonder if that’s what he—” Then I stop and shake my head. “Wow.” I shake my head a second time, just enough to dislodge the stupid and search for my college-educated brain. “Who cares what he’s saying or doing or thinking? Right? Who gives a damn?”
Smirking, Sonia takes another sip and mouths, “I think you give a damn.”
“He’s a client of yours. He’s here for his session. That’s all there is to it.”
“So I guess we should call him in.” She looks to the clock, and grins as it clicks over to nine. “It’s his turn.”
“Should I sit out of this one?” My heart races, and I swear, for the first time in my life, my hands turn sweaty. “I should probably sit this one out, right?”
“Why do you think that?” She picks up her phone and, after a moment, murmurs, “Tell Mr. Hart we’re ready for him in just one minute.” She places the phone down and studies me. “Allyson? Why do you think you should sit out?”
“Because I know him.”
“Do you?” Her brow wings up. “A moment ago, you said you had no clue what his last name was.”
“Well, no. I don’t. I didn’t… Hart?”
She grins. “I already told you, Allyson. This is a small town, everyone knows everyone. So if I were to exclude patients on the basis of knowing who they are, or seeing them in town, then I wouldn’t have a job, and they wouldn’t have the help they need.”
“So you think I should stay?” I wipe my clammy palms on my pants. “I should stay?”
“I think you deciding is a moment of growth for you. I will not tell you what to do, nor will I tell you what I think is right. I need you to make that choice, and then to follow it through. Be brave, Allyson. I now you know how.”
A knock at the door vibrates through my back and makes me jump and squeak. “Oh god. Oh lord.” Do not hyperventilate. Do not make yourself look like a dick!
“Open the door, Allyson. Then make your choice.”
Luke
Well, Well, Wellity
Well
The office door swings open so I’m met with a passive, friendly smile. “Hello.” Doogie Howser’s female-equivalent welcomes me in. “Come on in and take a seat.”
I try to catch her eyes, to tease and to explain, but she keeps her gaze down and waits as I swagger into the room and stop by the couch. I meet Sonia’s eyes and lift both brows. “What’s shakin’, doc?”
“Luke.” Smiling, kind as always, Sonia comes to a single chair with her cup of tea and sits down with more grace than every woman I know – collectively – possesses. “If you could just take a seat, I can explain our additional friend, and then we can get started. Allyson, if you could please shut the door?”
“Allyson?” I sit down on the double sofa and lounge back to make myself comfortable. I wait for Allyson to close the door, then for her to sluggishly turn and make her way over to us. “And to think, I was calling you Doogie.”
“Luke.” Sonia speaks, she takes control and drags my gaze back to her. “Allyson Moore is a psychology student in her final year at college, and to graduate, she needs work experience hours in a live, practicing office setting. This is where she has chosen to complete her hours.”
I turn to her, to Allyson, and smile. “Color me intrigued.”
“Now, for her to get these hours,” Sonia says. “She must sit in on real-life sessions. That would mean she has access to my clients and their information. She would listen to whatever you have to say today, she might make notes, and at the end of term when she’s asked to present her final paper for graduation, she might like to use examples and discussion topics from things she hears in this room. I can assure you that confidentiality will remain top priority, always. Names will never be written down, identifying specifics will never be recorded. And her being here is purely your choice.”
“My choice?” I study Sonia, then Allyson as she nervously folds her legs together. She can’t decide between closed-off, or elegant princess the way Sonia does it.
“Yes. Your choice. You can merely say no,” Sonia explains. “And that would be okay. Allyson would leave, and that would be the end of it. You could say yes today, but no next time, and still, that would be okay. If at any point during your hour you become uncomfortable, she would leave and that would be fine. If you choose for her to stay, she will observe, she will listen, and she may like to speak, but she will not detract from your time here. She will enhance, not be a bother. If you’re okay with it, we can get started right now. But if you’re not, Allyson has plenty of work to do in another part of this practice, and there would be no hard feelings.”
“Have you given this speech to every single other client you’ve seen?” I look to Allyson and grin. “I saw you, what, a week ago? That’s a lot of clients.”
“I explain her purpose,” Sonia says and continues to save Allyson from having to speak. “I ask each and every client if they’re okay with our guest. And then we get started.”
“So I guess I’m good with our guest.” I’m not normally this obnoxious, I swear I’m not, but I turn on the couch, kick my legs up to rest on the arm, and lay back against the opposite end. Then I smile, because Sonia sees the back of my head, but I see all of Allyson. “Does she know why I’m here?”
For once, Allyson herself answers. “I’m coming into this blind. But you don’t have to give me backstory or anything. I’ll catch up quickly.”
“I’m here because a judge ordered it.” I make her nervous, twitchy, and a little hot when she desperately wishes I didn’t. “I got into a fight with a guy and his two pals a few weeks back. They wanted to discuss… er… a girl. They weren’t happy she had spent a little time with me, so they came to me to, uh, negotiate.” I grin. “They lost.”
Not my best moment, I think to myself. Not the best starting-off topic. “So we got into a fight, but these boys were big, and their families weren’t happy. I got my ass arrested, we went to court, and the judge ordered I talk to the sweet Sonia or risk going to jail.”
“Not to minimize what happened,” Sonia inserts, “but I suspect it was more of a scare tactic to help straighten out our local chaos creator. Luke needs a lesson in humility. Not time spent in prison. So he’s to come here for his sessions, work through what’s going on in his mind, and then he goes home knowing that the world isn’t black and white.”
I look to Allyson. “Sonia used to be my dad’s therapist. He was seriously wound up tight, he was screwing up his relationship with my mom because he was a stubborn ass who wouldn’t admit he was worthy of love, and because of it, they almost lost the best kind of love.”
“That was a lifetime ago,” Sonia sighs nostalgically. “He was the age you are now, Luke. A couple years older. Pre kids, back when it was just him and your mom wading through stormy seas.”
“He was worthy of love,” I tell Allyson. “And because he finally admitted it, he got the girl, and together, they got the kids and the white picket fence.”
“They don’t actually have a picket fence,” Sonia quickly corrects. “But I guess that’s beside the point.”
“Can I ask…” Allyson looks to me, then to Sonia. “Can I ask questions?”
“Luke has the power,” Sonia replies in her non-answer. “In this room, he will always have the power. So why don’t you ask him, and then he can choose whether he’ll answer or not.”
“Yeah, Doogie. Ask me. Scan my brain and let me know what you find.”
“Do you think…” She unfolds and refolds her legs. “Do you think that perhaps you’re a little too… um… friendly with women, because of the lessons your father taught you?”
My heart jumps. “Hm?”
“Well, you explained how your father felt he was unworthy of love, and because of it, he almost lost your mom. So perhaps, your pendulum is swinging the complete opposite way. You freely tell women you love them because you’d rather swing and miss, than not swing at all.”
“I don’t actually love Darcy,” I answer quickly. “I become friends with people, male and female. And when we’re friends, I have love for them. So I might see them out at the club or something, we’ll smile and dance, I’ll tell them I love them, and then I’ll move along. That’s not a psychological flaw. It’s being a good person.”
“And when you told me you loved me?”
“Wait,” Sonia jerks. “Huh?”
“Last week,” Allyson continues on as I push up to sit on the couch.
This isn’t going the way I’d intended. I was aiming for smug and annoying; instead, I’m actually getting my head examined.
“I saw Luke at the bakery,” she says, “and just as I was wrapping up a phone call with my mom, I told her I love her. Luke, a stranger to me, stopped and told me he loved me back.”
“I was kidding.” I scowl. “I was just, ya know, playing around.”
“Oh, I understand.” Allyson settles on crossing her ankles and leans forward to use her superwoman powers of x-ray vision to see inside my brain. “I’m asking if you think you’re joking like that because of what your parents went through. I’m not condemning you,” she adds on. “Mostly, I’m theorizing and, ya know… just wondering.”
I look to Sonia. “I’m uncomfortable.”
Sonia smiles, looks to Allyson, and without a single word being spoken, gooses her guest along and has the room cleared within a minute.
“You like her.” As soon as the door closes and Allyson’s intoxicating scent leaves with her, Sonia sets her teacup down and stares deep into my eyes. “You’re the eternal bachelor, the one who doesn’t explain his feelings to anyone, because he’s insistent on not having feelings. But this new woman comes to town, and just maybe you like what you see.”
“I always like what I see when I look at women.” I push to my feet and storm across the room to a melting iced coffee. I know who it belongs to, and I know it’s gonna be delicious. So I snatch it up and take a long drink. “Women are beautiful. Women have sexy lines, and beautiful curves, and soft skin. Their hair i
s always nice, and their smiles are like a drug.” I meet Sonia’s eyes. “Women were the universe’s smartest creation, because life would be boring as fuck if we didn’t have them around to admire.”
“You objectify them.” She lifts both brows with disapproval. “You place value in their looks, and not their personality or brains.”
“No, a beautiful woman is only beautiful for a moment. It’s like looking at a flower, right? Beautiful, for sure, but it gets boring before long. That minute is fun, but if she doesn’t have the personality, then it’s not really worth the price of admission.”
“Crass.” She sniffs and flattens her lips. “But I understand. So, you like Allyson’s personality?”
“I don’t even know her personality! I’ve seen her twice ever. She’s kinda fun to tease, because she’s a little bit uptight, but beneath that, I bet she’s kinda wild. She loves her mom, she drinks surprisingly good coffee.” I take another long pull and grunt as the ice-cold liquid runs down my throat. “And she’s smart. I already knew she was, I even said it to Rob, ‘bet she’s smart. A doctor or something.’ And hell, a beautiful woman who is also smart? That’s like the jackpot right there.”
“So you do like her? You admit it?”
“I’d like to see her… alone… in my bedroom. And then we’d stress test whatever the hell she is. But I don’t, like, want feelings. Besides, what the hell does any of that have to do with why we’re here? I’m a dangerous criminal, no? Anger management, court orders, going to jail if I don’t straighten out.”
“Oh please.” Sonia scoffs and pours fresh tea from a floral teapot on the side table. “You’re a pussycat with Herculean levels of self-restraint. You’ve been trained all of your life to fight, to disable, and to hurt. You were ganged up on by three large men, and you won, but you did it without violence. You disabled those men, you removed your… uh…” She coughs to clear away awkwardness. “Lady companion, so that she was not in danger, and then you left. There was no anger. There was merely method, and a means to an end. That’s restraint, Luke. That’s the opposite of any other client who comes in here to discuss rage issues.”