Page 39 of Even in the Dark

Dylan:Well, they sure as hell aren’t two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar questions, I’ll tell you that.

Dr. Morley:[laughs] Again, with the flattery.

Dylan:[no response]

Dr. Morley:If it makes you feel any better, I only take on a couple clients a year these days. So don’t go getting any ideas that I’m driving home to some oceanfront mansion in my sexy Lambo or anything.

Dylan:Maybe you should’ve taken on more than a couple clients.

Dr. Morley:I could… I like the healthy work-life balance, though. And a twenty-one sedan is more my thing, anyway. Here—don’t forget your jacket. It’s chilly out there. [rustling noises]

Dylan:Two-hundred-and-fifty-bucks and all you ever offer me is fucking water or juice?

Dr. Morley:[laughs] Well, what would you have me offer?

Dylan:I don’t know… Burger and fries? Full-size bag of fancy chips, at least.

Dr. Morley:Ah, but then I’d have to up my rate to two-sixty.Those fancy chips aren’t cheap.

Dylan:[no response]

Dr. Morley:Well, I’ll let you get on your way. I’ll see you Wednesday afternoon?

Dylan:Sure.

Dr. Morley:And remember, you can always call me if anything comes up in between sessions. If something’s on your mind, no matter how big or small or weird or random, call me. Any time… I mean it.

Dylan:Yeah, I’ll bet, at the rates you’re charging.

Dr. Morley:Tell you what—I won’t charge for phone calls.

Dylan:I’ll be sure to leave a really long voicemail, then.

Chapter Fifteen

Dylan

Phil and Diane split driving me to and from my appointments with the shrink. It’s an hour outside of Sandy Haven, which means two hours total of driving. Always just me and one of them; no-one else tagging along to eat up the silent airtime. Means the drive is almost worse than the shrink session itself. I’m always exhausted after the emotion smack-down with Morley. Takes all my willpower not to lose it on the drive back, with the overload of even more questions. Phil trying to be buddy-buddy. Diane trying to fix me.

The drive with Phil is the worst, since he likes to tack on a “special outing” on the way back. Restaurant, or walk to some lighthouse, or skateboard shopping or whatever. Prolonging the stress from three hours to four, if you include the session with the shrink.

Tonight, we’re hitting a restaurant that has a sign underneath the name that says, “casual dining”. Which is a bold-ass lie. Not one thing casual about this place. Even the building is a fancy oldhouse with high ceilings and huge rugs all over I’d make people remove their shoes before walking on if they were mine.

Always feels like people are staring at me in these places. Like they can tell I don’t belong. Or they know my first instinct is to case the joint to figure out how much I could get away with nicking without getting caught (a lot—in and out in ten minutes if I waited ’til the place was closed for the night). The trashy slum rat tracking mud into their perfect world.

There are huge windows along the back wall, overlooking the ocean. Far as I can tell, everything overlooks the ocean when you’re rich and live on the coast. There are even a couple of fireplaces. Real fireplaces, not the fake electric ones. But no TVs. Another rich people thing—they like to talk. A lot. Especially when they’re eating. Guess a TV would be a distraction. Always figured that was the whole point.

Feels like I shouldn’t be allowed in a place like this the way I’m dressed: worn jeans and faded shirt over an old band T-shirt. But Phil gets real serious when I say that. Tells me, “You belong here as much as anybody else, Dylan.”

Makes me feel weird. In a good way. Also, bad—like I’m a fraud and he hasn’t figured it out yet. Whatever. Food is food. I’m hungry and it’s a free meal. Still getting used to that, too—having food all the time. Whenever you want. As much as you want. Feels like there should be a catch.

We sit at a table close to one of the fireplaces and it’s hard not to get distracted by the flames instead of listening to Phil talk. Asking questions. Always fucking questions with these people.

“You finished a little earlier today, with Dr. Morley.”

Doesn’t sound like a question, but it is. I know that now.

“Yeah.”

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