Page 48 of Goodbye Again
Another few texts have rolled in from Lena and Claire.
Claire:Pleeeeeeease hang out with us this weekend. Not MR. SEXY KINDERGARTEN TEACHER. Also, take a break from your dissertation, doc... you need it!
Lena:the sex cant be that good
I grin. It is. But also, I don’t want to be the girl who picks her man over her friends, and I have been sucked into a love bubble for the last three weeks and need to break free. If no other reason than my need to give them all the details.
Me:Yes, I’m all yours. Tomorrow night?
Claire:Piano bar?
Lena:no
Claire:Don’t let Lena deter you. She always ends up loving it.
Me: Wherever you guys want... I’m down!
I smile and slip my phone into the top drawer as my desk phone rings.
“Hi, Shawna,” I answer.
“Your one o’clock is here,” the receptionist tells me.
“Thanks, I’ll be out to grab her soon.”
I hang up and bag my salad garbage, shoving it under a few papers in the garbage can, pop in a mint, and squirt some hand sanitizer in my hands before grabbing my next patient’s file.
Ellie Rutherford.
I don’t like to say it out loud but she is one of my favorite patients. Kind, smart, funny, with a struggling heart. She once told me therapy feels like a weighted blanket and I knew we were the perfect fit.
I glance at the rest of my day. Two more patients after Ellie, then I’m off.
I walk to the waiting room and stop so quickly that my shoes skid against the maroon carpet.
JP is sitting next to Ellie in one of the waiting room chairs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. My gaze inadvertently catches his forearm muscle as it flexes each time he cracks his knuckles. I swallow the involuntary attraction I have for him, because a surprise visit seems out of character, but it’s also quite unprofessional. While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with seeing a therapist, most patients still want their privacy—even in the waiting room.
As I get closer, I remember Ellie is here and she comes first. “Hi, Ellie, why don’t you head on back to my office.” My voice is soft, soothing—my Therapist Voice.
She stands, turning slightly toward JP, and says, “I’ll be right back.”
JP’s head lifts at the sound of my voice, and his eyes go wide in anI-tried-to-tell-youkind of way.
I force a smile, my eyes darting between them both. “This is my uncle. He’s off for the summer, so he told Mom he could bring me to my appointment.”
I swallow the needles in my throat as heat creeps up my neck with a prickling consistency. I stare at JP. He stands and holds out his hand, breaking my stare. “Good to see you,” he says.
He’s leaving it open for me to say whether or not we know each other.
“Good to see you...” my voice trails like I’m waiting to know his name.
“JP.”
My chest twists a bit.I like all your names.
I nod. “Julia.”
I glance around the waiting area. The receptionist is on the phone and Dr. Flanigan’s door is closed. “Ellie, do you want to head back? I’ll be right there.”
