Page 83 of Avery's Hero

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Monday comes. So do my two eval appointments. I’m tired. Deeply tired from all the emotional rollercoaster riding I did over the weekend.

For the moment things are copacetic with Lincoln, hanging out over food definitely gave the three of us some time to get to know each other.

It also opened some new bonds for the father and son, and inspired them to spend some quality time together, which is why Brock and I haven’t been alone since before the fire.

In the meantime, I’ve just been waiting on the other shoe to drop about someone in the department finding outabout our affair. So, as one might expect, I’m a bit of a wreck.

I’m trying not to chew my fingernails, and anything else I can get my hands on in the waiting room at the Murray Mental Health Clinic. “Come this way, Ms. Ellis.” A psychologist with bushy hair and caterpillar eyebrows leads me toward his office. I presume he’s Edward Murray as the nameplate by the entrance said, even though he doesn’t bother with an introduction.

The medical appointment was easy. I hope this one will be too. Only, the ominous feeling in my stomach says otherwise.

I take a seat in one of the comfortable chairs that are artfully arranged by the window.

The atmosphere has been engineered for calm, from the color of the paint, to the happy little blooming plant, to the tinkling of the water in the decorative fountain in the corner.

“Would you like some water?”

Balling my hands into fists in my lap so I don’t fidget, I say. “No, sir. I’m fine, thank you.”

He doesn’t waste any time. “Chief Mitchell requested an evaluation of your mental health because he witnessed a panic attack.”

I hold my tongue and don’t say,one he caused.

“Do you have a comment on that?”

“It was an unusual circumstance, an outlier.”

Looking up from his notes, he says, “So, you’ve never had a panic attack before.”

Oh, brother. I draw in a breath. I know this guy will see a lie coming from a mile away. “Actually, I had one other.”

“Please tell me about what led up to these attacks.”

Crap. I didn’t think about this.

Um… Um. My cogs spin as I try to figure out how to say something that won’t totally expose the fact that Brock’s kiss is what sent me into a full melt down.

“Ms. Ellis, do you have something to say?”

“I do.” I pause, clear my throat. “I had an interaction with Chief Mitchell that caused an upheaval to my emotional balance. It won’t happen again.”

The man flips open my file, closes it, and looks at me over his glasses. “Care to explain?”

“No, I don’t.”

“It will be hard for me to give you the clearance you need without you explaining the circumstances.”

For several minutes, we stare at each other. His eyebrows don’t move when he blinks. For a few seconds, I ponder if anyone’s eyebrows move when they blink. Something I’ll have to pay more attention to.

Finally, he takes his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he slides them back on, he says, “You do know this conversation is completely confidential. I will not be revealing any details of your comments to the chief. I will only provide a green light, or red light for your return to full, active service with the fire department.”

My nerve endings are so frayed, I’m sure the ragged ends are showing. I chew my lip.

He folds his hands and watches me with grandfatherly patience. Not that I’ve had a grandfather, but that’s how I imagined they’d be.

In a practiced voice, he coaches me. “Why don’t you tell me about your childhood.”

---