Counting on Love

by R L Burgess

  “Let’s move a little faster, Holdy,” she urged, placing a guiding hand behind his shoulder blades.

  “I am moving,” he mumbled, refusing to be hurried. He was quick when he wanted to be, that was for sure. She had seen him tear down the field after a soccer ball as fast as his growing legs would carry him, but now, not entirely happy about the appointment, he was dragging his feet.

  “Let’s run,” Reyna suggested, breaking into a little jog beside him.

  Forgetting himself, he smirked.

  “What?”

  “You’re running.”

  “Yes, and you’re not. Come on please, Holden. It’s rude to be late.”

  He allowed himself to be jogged along, now openly laughing.

  “You run funny,” he said.

  “Do not.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

  “Race you,” he cried, taking off at full speed down the street.

  “Damn,” she muttered, chasing after him. It had been a long time since she had run. Why run when you could walk, was her motto. She enjoyed dancing and swimming and the occasional game of tennis, but she avoided running like the plague. She felt so ungainly when she did it. Perhaps he was right, maybe she did run funny.

  “Stop, Holdy. It’s the grey building,” she called as he ran past their intended destination.

  He stopped and plopped himself on a set of small concrete steps, whistling as if he had been waiting for her for hours.

  “I win,” he crowed when she caught up with him.

  Reyna checked her watch again, catching her breath. One minute to spare. She hated to be late. It reeked of disregard and selfishness. God help those who arrived late to her meetings at work. She had perfected her disapproving “you’re late” stare, and she knew the sight of it was enough to raise the heartrate of her employees. Composing herself, she straightened her shirt before they went through the double doors at the top of the steps.

  Inside the building a large silver sign hung on the wall, announcing the presence of treating physicians Snider, Lohs and Singh. A receptionist with dark grey hair pulled into a neat bun sat behind a large marble counter underneath the sign.

  “We have a two p.m. appointment with Dr. Snider,” Reyna said, handing an appointment card over the counter to the receptionist.

  The receptionist pushed her glasses up her nose and fiddled with her mouse, tapping some keys on her keyboard. “Holden and Reyna Azuolay?”

  “Yes, that’s us,” Reyna said, thankful once again that her sister had kept her maiden name and passed it on to Holden. It made these kinds of moments so much easier.

  “I’ll just need your Medicare card and other details filled out on this form. Take a seat through those doors,” she said, handing Reyna a clipboard and gesturing to a set of frosted glass doors behind them.

  Through the doors was a waiting room, decorated in a tasteful olive green. Rows of chairs lined both sides of the room, and a section in the corner was designed especially for children. A generic print of a rural landscape hung on the opposite wall, and a magazine rack showcased a bunch of well-thumbed cooking and gardening magazines that she had no desire to read. She settled herself in one of the chairs next to the play area.

  “Cool, they have Hot Wheels,” Holden announced, dropping down on the floor to play with a brightly painted car and accompanying ramp.

  Reyna watched him pushing the car up and down the ramp, vigorously smashing it into the sides and making his own sound effects. It amazed her how easily he could become absorbed in a game, especially if it was imaginary.

  “You’re sure you’re happy to go in without me?”

  “Yes, Aunty Rey,” he said, distracted by his car which had just spun 360 degrees and flipped entirely off the ramp.

  “It’s just that if you’ve changed your mind, I can come in with you, I’d be happy to.”

  He looked up for a second, contemplating her with a serious look in his eye. “I’m okay to go in by myself. Will you wait for me out here? Just in case I want to leave?”

  “Of course.” She reached down and swept a curl from his forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

  “Good.” He returned to his game, conversation over.

  He knocked his car recklessly over the little course, then she looked away, hearing muted voices outside the frosted doors they had just come through. She prepared herself for the psychologist to enter. They had chosen Dr. Snider based on a recommendation from a lady Samira worked with. Further research had shown him to be a friendly-faced specialist in children’s issues with a trail of commendations and reviews from satisfied parents on the clinic’s website. Holden had taken some convincing, but in the end Reyna had bribed him with the promise of a new fandangled robotics set if he would give it a month, and he had readily agreed. She felt a little guilty about bribing him but decided the possible gain would far outweigh the parenting faux pas.

  “You can wait through those doors,” Reyna heard the receptionist say as the door to the waiting room pushed open. Reyna looked up, ready to see another patient enter the room. Instead she found herself face-to-face with Zoe Cavendish, who had stopped stock still in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion. The swelling on Zoe’s lip had gone down but there was still the gash on her cheek and a telltale smudge of purple around her eye where the bruising had been.

  “I—” Zoe stopped, her face visibly paling as she took in Reyna and Holden.

  “Hello,” Reyna said simply, slightly taken off guard herself. It was always a bit awkward bumping into people from work, but this setting had an extra level of discomfort. She couldn’t ask Zoe what she was doing there, nor did she particularly want to go into her own reasons for being found in the waiting room of a psychology practice with a small child in tow.

  “I—” Zoe said again, and took a step into the room, letting the glass doors swing shut behind her with a quiet thud.

  Holden turned around to study the newcomer.

  “You’re not Dr. Snider,” he said.

  “No,” Zoe agreed, hovering beside a chair as if she couldn’t decide if it would be worse to sit or stand.

  “Actually Holden, this is Zoe. We work together.”

  “Hi.” Holden studied her for a moment with his serious brown eyes, and then clearly decided his game offered a better level of entertainment, turning away to resume the car demolition.

  “Hi,” Zoe said to his back, sitting down with a rush in one of the olive chairs.

  The doors to the waiting room pushed open for a second time, and this time the friendly face Reyna had seen on the clinic’s website entered the room. He was shorter than Reyna had expected, his collared shirt and black jeans more casual than the head shot with the shirt and tie had depicted.

  “Holden?” the man said in a deep, warm voice, smiling at the boy with a smile that reached right up to his bright blue eyes as Holden turned from his game.

  “Yes.” Holden stood up, continuing to clutch the car.

  “I’m Dr. Snider. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Holden took it with his own small paw. Holden’s curls bobbed as he gave the hand a vigorous, single shake.

  “Well, you do have quite the grip,” Dr. Snider exclaimed. He turned, glancing between Reyna and Zoe, as if trying to decide who belonged with Holden. “Reyna?” he asked, his twinkling blue eyes making the right choice.

  “Yes, that’s me.” Reyna stood.

  “How about we all catch up at the end of the session,” Dr. Snider suggested. “If you come back in say, forty-five minutes, Holden and I should be done talking and you could join us for a quick cuppa?”

  “That would be good. Is it okay if I just wait here? I promised Holden I’d stick around.”

  “Absolutely. Would you like a coffee while you wait? I can have Doreen bring you something.” He gestured behind him, obviously referring to the receptionist they had met earlier.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Okay, then. Well, how about we go get started Hold
en? Are you ready to check out my office? You can bring the car if you like. I actually have some pretty cool toys in my office as well.”

  Holden nodded, gripping the little car tightly.

  “Right. This way then.” He held open the glass doors. “See you in a bit, Reyna. Doreen will show you in.”

  Reyna smiled encouragingly at Holden. His face was a mask of apprehension as he followed the doctor through the glass doors.

  “Did you know they let me have a robotic Lego set in my office?” she heard Dr. Snider say as the doors swung closed. “And a much bigger Hot Wheels set.”

  Reyna sat back in her chair and rummaged through her bag for her bottle of water, aware of Zoe’s eyes on her. She found the bottle, opened it, and took a long sip, before meeting the gaze.

  “I didn’t know you had a son.”

  “My nephew.”

  “Ah.”

  Silence. Zoe studied her hands. Reyna was struck by how different she looked outside of their normal work setting. She wore her hair out in light waves around her face, instead of the usual, functional ponytail she had at work. It looked pretty that way, highlighting the auburn streaks running through what Reyna had previously taken to be fairly standard brown hair colour. Her professional suit was replaced by a pair of black leggings which showed off the slender line of her legs, well worn black runners, and an oversized, soft woollen jumper—the kind you would want to steal from your girlfriend when you stayed over the night. The jumper hung loosely over her frame, hinting at the curves of her body. Reyna tried not to stare at the exposed line of her delicate collarbone and the thin silver necklace that ducked under the neckline. It felt strange to see her like this, almost as if she was catching a private moment that, as Zoe’s boss, she really shouldn’t have been privy to.

  Zoe looked up, as if detecting Reyna’s eye on her.

  “I’m here for Dr. Singh,” she said quietly.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” Reyna said quickly, searching for an appropriate topic, feeling as if she had been caught spying. “How was your seminar session this week? I think I remember you were starting off a new group of people.”

  Zoe’s face brightened, some colour returning to her pale cheeks. “It was great. We have a really diverse group, but I think that will only add to the depth of knowledge people come away with. It’s one thing to learn from me, but the discussions they have amongst themselves, and the sharing of their life experiences seems to have a big impact as well. And it’s better now that I’ve had a chance to refine the program a bit. I feel like I have a proper handle on the delivery now.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Reyna replied.

  She was genuinely impressed with the proactive stance Zoe had taken. She admired her initiative and felt it was important to reward such motivation. She made a mental note to discuss Zoe’s pay level with Thomus. She would suggest a review to a higher level.

  “I’m excited for FinCo,” Zoe added.

  “So am I. It’s always an inspiring event. I love listening to what everyone else is doing, and the workshops are a really fun way to engage in some brainstorming and learning.”

  “I have wanted to go since I finished uni, actually.”

  There was silence for a moment, both women contemplating the room around them.

  “Do you live round here?” Reyna asked, searching for something else to say. She hoped the question didn’t sound too personal.

  “Not far,” Zoe replied. “I bought an apartment at the beginning of the year.”

  “Congratulations. That’s a big event.”

  “Yeah, the actual moving was the biggest bit. But then, they do say that moving house is one of life’s more stressful events.” Zoe glanced around the room. “Not that that’s why I’m here.”

  The doors swung open again and this time a woman entered the waiting room, her dark skin offset by a soft white cashmere shawl. Large silver hoops swung from her earlobes and she had an array of silver bangles on her wrists.

  “Zoe?” She looked expectantly between them.

  “That’s me.”

  “I’m Dr. Singh,” the woman said. She held open the door. “Ready?”

  Zoe appeared momentarily undecided and then stood abruptly. “Yes,” and nodding at Reyna she said, “See you Monday then.”

  “Monday,” Reyna agreed.

  As Zoe left Reyna was reminded of a prisoner being led to the gallows. She had looked about as enthusiastic for her session as Holden had. It was hard not to speculate about what she was doing there. Was it somehow linked to the bruises on her face? Had that story about the obstacle course been an excuse to cover up something more sinister occurring in her life?

  Reyna was torn. It was really none of her business, but on another level she felt a certain sense of responsibility for her staff. If someone was in trouble she wanted to know about it so she could help. HR had set up a phone-based counselling service for the staff, and judging by the bills she received, they were using it. She did what she could to support them, conscious that they were exchanging their hard-earned intellectual knowledge for the advancement of her firm. Sure, they were paid well, but running a successful business was about more than just paying people well. People needed to see that they were valued; they needed recognition and evidence that management cared, that they were not just another, expendable cog in the wheel. That was why she had started up the innovation awards.

  It was, however, becoming much more difficult for her to maintain that degree of personal touch with the growth of the firm. Being spread out nationally meant she didn’t always have eyes on what was being said and done. Thankfully her management team worked hard, and the company’s enviable results continued to speak for themselves, but it was strange to find she didn’t always know all the details of what was happening in her firm. She had to work hard to keep the lines of communication firmly open so that things didn’t slip under her radar. Occasionally she had come across bad behaviour that had been shielded from her view, due to the sheer size of the firm. She also relied heavily on her regional managers to maintain the ethos of the firm, but every now and then a bad egg slipped through the net. Was Thomus becoming one of these? This business of making Mel and Zoe run the workshops on their own time was poor form indeed. She would keep a close eye on him for now.

  Her mind flashed back to Zoe, unusually pale but pretty in her casual attire. Reyna felt a strange jolt inside her. There was a vulnerability to Zoe that she had a sudden urge to soothe. She was clearly uncomfortable to have been found in the waiting room of a psychologist’s office, but well, they had both been caught off guard. Reyna was certainly not interested in the personal details of her life being broadcast around the office. She was sure Zoe would feel the same way. She would try to catch up with Zoe during the week to reassure her of her privacy. Hopefully Zoe would afford her the same respect. Her thoughts snagged again, catching on the soft woollen jumper Zoe had been wearing, pausing over the exposed skin at her neckline. What would it be like to feel that up close, to slide her hands underneath the soft wool and feel the warmth of skin against her palms?

  Reyna shifted in her seat abruptly, shaking her head as if to dislodge the inappropriate thought. Her pulse quickened and she stood, pacing in the little waiting room. Where had that come from? She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and rubbed her palms on her jacket, as if she could brush away the thought. It had been a long time since she had been intimate with someone, she realised, mentally counting backward to her last relationship, if you could call it that. More like a fling really. It had been almost eighteen months.

  She picked up a gardening magazine from the rack and sat back down, flipping the pages without seeing them. She missed the closeness, the intimacy of discovering another body in the darkness, surrendering herself to the moment, hands held over coffee, the thrill of a woman’s lips on her own. But there was no room in her life for any of that anymore, she thought, staring down at a DIY hanging flower garden wit
h an ache in her abdomen. She knew her friends would continue to try to find women like Yana and Alli to set her up, but she couldn’t even begin to imagine having the time or energy to devote to a relationship. And anyway, she thought, as she glanced around the psychologist’s waiting room, her needs, her wants, those kinds of desires just had to take a backseat. She had a growing boy to raise and a demanding firm to run. Surely there was no space for anything more.

  Chapter Nine

  Zoe (Sunday, p.m.)

  “You what?”

  Four pairs of eyes around the table stared with horror at her.

  “I bumped into Reyna in the psychologist’s waiting room,” she repeated with a baleful look at her friends. She gave the remainder of the red wine in her glass a swirl and drained it. “It was kind of a nightmare. I mean, she was totally professional and everything but I was so embarrassed. I’ve got no idea what I even said.”

  “I wonder why she was there,” Chiara mused. “Did she say anything?”

  “She was there with her nephew. I didn’t ask her about it.”

  “Her nephew,” Mel repeated. “That’s kind of strange. How old is he?”

  Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know. He looked young, maybe ten or something. The more important question is, will she now think I’m some kind of deranged lunatic who has to see a psychologist? Definitely not the impression I was hoping to give at work.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Enid said confidently. “Pretty much everyone has a psychologist these days. She’ll just think it’s normal.”

  “None of you have one.”

  “True, but none of us have been through what you’ve been through, sweetie.” Chiara reached across the table and gave Zoe’s hand a squeeze, her eyes full of empathy.

  “So, you all think I’m messed up.”

  “No,” Enid strung out the word. “You just need a little help to sort through your emotions that’s all. What did the psychologist say?”

  Zoe took a deep breath, tracing a finger across a water droplet on the table. “Dr. Singh said that my internalised belief that I should have done more to help my mother has led me to believe I’m not worthy of a proper relationship now. So I have developed feelings for someone entirely unattainable because I know I will never be called upon to act on it.”