The room was nice, dimly lit with a small, soothing water feature in the corner. I couldn’t help but notice the tissue box within reach or the diffuser making the scent of eucalyptus fill the small space.

Cecilia Johnson sat across from us in a plush chair, holding a notebook. “Tell me,” she said, “why are you here and what are you hoping to accomplish?”

Ollie sent me a withering look. “Ask my dad.”

I leaned forward, wringing my hands. I felt just as nervous as I had on my wedding day. As nervous as I had filing for divorce at the courthouse. “I’m worried about Ollie, and I want to make sure he has someone to talk to.”

Cecilia nodded, making a note in her legal pad. “And what worried you, Cohen?”

“A few weeks ago, he really shut down, and when I checked his grades, those were slipping too.”

Cecilia nodded. “Do you have anything to add, Ollie?”

His lips pressed together, and I could practically feel anger radiating off him. “Why do I have to tell my dad every feeling? Maybe I wasn’t talking because I didn’t want to.”

“And why didn’t you want to?” Cecilia asked, cutting straight to the quick. I liked her already.

Ollie paused, looking at his hands. He kept picking at loose skin with his nail, making a soft clicking sound. “Because I was embarrassed.”

I’d expected anything but that. I thought he’d tell her he hated me. That he wanted nothing to do with me. That he would stay with his mom full-time and see me on the weekends instead.

But this was an even worse punch in the gut. Why would Ollie be embarrassed about something? Especially when it came to me?

Cecilia leaned in, a caring expression on her face. “Ollie, if you’re willing to, you can speak privately with me. I am only required to share information if you ask or if there’s a threat of harm to you or someone else or if I’m subpoenaed by the court on a criminal case.”

Ollie looked from me to Cecilia and let out a sigh. “I promised my parents I’d try.”

Cecilia’s small smile matched my own. Taking my cue, I stood and told Ollie I’d be outside whenever he was ready. For the first time in a while, I felt like I had a win.

26

Birdie

Confession: I’m a better sister-in-law than I am a sister.

Doug called me Friday night.

Doug never called me.

Fear seizing my chest, I immediately left the living room where Mara and I were watching TV and went to the guest room to answer.

“Doug? Is everything okay?”

“Er-kind of,” he said. “Can you come over? I have a business dinner I need to get to, and Anthea is trying to paint the nursery.”

I raised my eyebrows. “She’s thirty weeks pregnant.”

“Try telling her that. She’s wearing two N-95s, and she looks absolutely feral.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

We hung up, and I went to tell Mara what was going on.

Giggling, she said, “I want you to tell me everything when you get back.”

“Promise,” I replied, reaching for my purse. I got in the car and drove to the richer part of Emerson, thinking Anthea must be nesting for the new baby. Her baby shower was still a few weeks away, but that was just an excuse to eat sugar cookies at this point. Everyone knew she and Doug could afford everything their baby needed and more.

I approached their multi-story home just a few minutes away from where Doug and I grew up. The yard was perfectly manicured and the path to the door lit with solar lights. It was already dark outside, and I wondered how long it would take Anthea to get tired and give up.