Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
She was a professional dealing with a client. That she had shared some of her own personal struggles just meant she was good at her job. I was sure she would turn tail and run if she knew what I was thinking, so I kept my fantasies to myself. Instead, we talked about my allergies, any past surgeries, and my history with drug use.
“I was sober for a couple months,” I said during one of our visits.
“Tell me about that,” she said.
“This buddy of mine went to prison for me. He got out, and I ran into him at a bar. I thought then that I could see how far I had come down in life, and that I owed it to him, not to myself, to get sober.”
Her eyes softened as she listened, but she continued taking notes. At every step I was reminded of the clinical nature of the treatment place. You thought you were having a conversation with one person, but it turned out they were recording every word you said. It would all go into your file and be available to any doctor or insurance company who asked for it. I tried to keep that in mind, but there was something about her demeanor. She really cared; I could tell. It wasn’t just a job for her; there was something more. Could it possibly be friendship? I hoped that what I was interpreting was something unique to me, something that she didn’t share with all her patients, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe she was just that sweet, and I was wrong to assume that I was anything special.
Still, she encouraged me to continue with a reassuring glance, and I obeyed despite all my misgivings. “I was sober enough to help him rescue his girlfriend from some of the dealers that were after me. They were arrested, and my buddy Mike and his girl got married. They invited me around for a while, but then I got to thinking that I wasn’t good enough for them. I started using again, and one thing led to another.”
I looked up, expecting to see disappointment in her eyes. Instead, all I saw was respect. “I’m glad to hear you were able to take responsibility and save your friend. That shows real bravery.”
I scoffed, turning away. “I lost it all.”
“You’re here now,” she pointed out. “You’ve been clean and sober for a week.”
“A week?” I gasped. Had it been a week? Where had the time gone? It felt like years had passed, like I was going to emerge from this time capsule and find flying cars and people living on the moon. It had only been a week.
“It’s hard to judge time when you’re going through withdrawal,” Gina said, understanding my reaction.
I nodded. “How’s Evil?”
She blinked. Maybe she wasn’t expecting me to remember the name of her cat. Or maybe I was way off base, trying to make small talk. “She’s fine.” Gina recovered her balance, her smile brightening. I thought I saw something unfolding in her eyes, something that might have been interest. “She caught a bird and brought me the head.”
“I guess you did right naming her Evil,” I joked.
“She’s gonna take over the world,” Gina said. “She’s just waiting for her opportunity.”
“What does that make us, then?” I wondered.
“Her future servants, I guess,” Gina mused.
“I suppose I could supply her with lumber to build her palace,” I offered.
“That would be good.” Gina continued the fantasy. “I’m the chef and maid.”
“You may have to step up your game,” I told her. “Are you cooking for her or just canned cat food?”
“Canned food,” Gina admitted.
“I’m sure the queen of the world is gonna want something better.”
“Maybe more birds when she takes the throne,” she suggested.
“Or what was that pie with birds inside, from that nursery rhyme?” I struggled to remember.
“Oh yeah.” She pointed her pen at me. “Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.”
“When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing,” I said, finally recalling the poem from my days in kindergarten.
“Something something something.” Gina kept time to the beat, twirling her finger in the air.
“To set before the king!” we both concluded, laughing.
I regarded her closely. The joke had brought a splash of color to her cheeks, highlighting the freckles that dusted her skin. I wondered if she was really enjoying herself or if this was just another day on the job. Talking with her was so easy. It had never been this easy before, not even with Mike, and we had decades of history between us.
I hadn’t actually spoken to my former girlfriend. It had been more like pass the joint, then climb all over each other. This dialog was refreshing and comfortable; it was like we were actually connecting.
“What were we talking about?” she asked.