“I liked her,” I admitted as Drew backed out of the cramped parking lot.
“I didn’t. Find someone else.”
“No, we’re seeing Deidra Wellington. You’re just mad because she didn’t bow down and kiss your shoes.”
“I’m paying her.”
“I’ll pay her. We’re not finding another therapist, Drew.”
“Morgan, why do we need to do this anyway? We’re fine.”
“Are we?”
“What does that mean?”
“Fine, let’s quit. Let’s just keep on going in the direction that we’re heading and see where it takes us.”
I knew I’d won. Drew audibly took a deep breath through his nose and reached for my hand. Kissing the back of my hand, he gave me that look of defeat, handing over my victory.
***
“What did you think? Isn’t she great?” Celeste asked, taking a break from numbers and my husband. She took Nicky from my arms and kissed his chubby little cheeks.
“I loved her. Drew, not so much. She put him in his place the first five minutes we were there. He wanted to leave right that second.”
“Yeah, she did the same thing with me. She actually stood up and told us we could leave.”
I laughed. “She did that to us too. I should be surprised, but I’m not. You’re a lot like my husband.”
“If you ever say that again, I’ll hire a hit man and have you knocked off.”
“She’s right,” Alicia agreed, taking my baby from Celeste. “You’re a female version of Drew Kelley.”
“I am not. We’re nothing alike,” Celeste argued.
“Okay, whatever,” I teased, placing my hand over Alicia’s very pregnant belly. “I can’t wait for this little girl to get here. I am going to spoil her rotten. Isn’t that right, Nicky boy?”
“Stop calling my son Nicky,” Drew ordered, taking him from Alicia. “I can’t wait for this little girl either, maybe you’ll stop treating my boy like a girl.”
“Are we going to eat or what? I’m starving,” Alicia whined.
“You’re always starving,” Celeste joked.
“And horny.” Alicia laughed. I freaking loved that girl.
“Oh, my god, Alicia. Shut the hell up,” Celeste spouted.
I laughed again. “She’s pregnant. That’s the best sex ever. Your hormones are on crazy overload.”
“Are you taking Nicky or can I take him for his bath?” Marta interrupted.
“Stop calling him Nicky.” Drew demanded, sending the rest of us into a laughing frenzy.
***
The following Thursday I had to drag Drew to our appointment with Deidra. He whined all morning about having too much work to do. Thank god for Celeste backing me up. She made sure he knew she was perfectly capable of handling the conference call with the investors up north. He knew that fact. He was trying to evade the meeting that I wasn’t about to let him out of.
Deidra started with me. I was a little surprised at where she wanted to go. None of the other therapist had done this.
“Where you always wealthy?” she asked me first.
I looked over to Drew.
“Is this really necessary?” he asked.
Deidra sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “That’s up to you guys. I guess if you just want to work on the symptoms rather than the cause we can do that. What did you have for dinner last night?” she sarcastically asked, brushing nothing from her knee.
“Let’s go, Morgan,” Drew tried again.
“I was not raised with any money,” I began.
“Where you born around here?” Deidra continued.
“No. I was born in a welfare town in West Virginia.”
We spent the entire hour talking about me. Deidra had me start with my first memory.
“I guess I was around three. I remember being with my Grandma Joyce. She kept me a lot when I was little.”
“What did your parents do?”
“Well, my mother worked at a truck stop, waiting tables, and my dad, he was the town drunk.” There was no other way to describe my dad. That’s what he did. I didn’t remember him ever working.
“He’s not her father,” Drew interrupted.
“We’ll get to that later. Continue,” Deidra coaxed.
I told her about the cold winters in the trailer, the neglect from both my parents, and the arrival of a new baby when I was twelve. I grew up fast when Justin was born. I was Justin’s mother. I was the one that took care of him. I don’t know what the logic behind all this was. Talking about Justin, and the way we lived put me in a place I hadn’t let myself go for a long time. Five short years, that’s it. Five years before he was ripped from my arms and my life. It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t hear his laugh anymore.