issues. Maybe that football star secretly worries that he’s stupid; maybe that superhot girl thinks that’s all there is to her; maybe that kid who is even smarter than you are wishes he was superhot and athletic. Whatever you are, it’s enough.
But I can’t heal that lost boy. And I clearly can’t heal myself, as Tess urged. I don’t know why Andrea ghosted me. I’m sure it was my fault. Lara, I know you’ll agree. I’m damaged goods and she’s a smart woman. She probably just figured it out like you did.
After my session with Grace I force myself to go Angel’s party. The push from my car, up the walkway, to knock on the door, is gargantuan. I almost turn back twice. But I want to support Angel, Jen and William. So few of my stories have a happy ending. I want this to be one of them.
“Dr. Reams!” says Jen at the door, pretty in a pink dress, smiling. “I didn’t think you would come! You’re shy, aren’t you?”
I smile. “Sometimes,” I admit.
She ushers me inside, where a group of smiling, happy people mingle in a stylish living room. Angel is sitting with an older woman, who looks to be showing her photos in an album. There are balloons and flowers, a cake with roses, some gifts. Angel, usually wrapped up tight, knees hugged to her chest on my couch, seems relaxed, sitting close to the lady on the couch, engaged. She smiles and waves to me.
“That’s William’s mom,” says Jen. “She’s so good with Angel.”
I spend the next hour being shepherded around by Jen, who introduces me as “the man who saved Angel.” Which is hyperbole, of course, but nice of her to say. I chat and eat, just like a normal person. These are nice people, kind and wide open, not a whiff of dysfunction. Sure, nothing’s perfect and all families have their issues. But these people are healthy—warm and giving.
“Dr. Reams,” says Jen, coming up on my conversation with William. He’s talking about golf and I’m nodding politely. “I wanted you to meet someone.”
Oh, now I get it. The young woman Jen presents—she’s lovely. Dare I say, she looks a bit like you. That raven-haired, blue-eyed combo never fails to make me weak in the knees. “This is my friend Beth.”
Beth smiles, and offers her hand. She looks as uncomfortable as I am at a party, but her handshake is warm and firm. She wears a silver infinity symbol on a chain around her neck. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Beth is a clinical psychiatrist specializing in criminal behavior.”
Jen may be more intuitive than she realizes.
“That’s gritty work,” I say.
Beth gives an assenting nod. “It can be.”
Almost immediately we’re looped into each other, the conversation flowing, the rest of the room disappearing. Her work, how she studies yoga and practices meditation to counteract the stress, how I run and work out to manage mine. We talk about my books—she’s a fan, which is always nice. The male ego thing and all of that. But it also means she knows my history. It’s awkward, isn’t it? When they know, and you know they know but it hasn’t been acknowledged.
For a little while, with her, I forget about everything going on in my life.
But then it starts to creep up.
As the sun dips and the afternoon turns to dusk, he starts to get restless. I can feel him pacing in his cage; I try to measure my breath, distance myself from him. Still he grows agitated. We have work to do tonight.
She’s talking and I’m watching her. I’m almost tempted to skip it. I could make the choice to wait on Andrea’s call and go from there. Follow the right channels, the legal ones. Tess’s admonitions, my own admissions about my behavior, have been ringing in my ears.
And then there’s Agent Brower, her knowing gaze.
I almost ask Beth if she wants to get a drink somewhere, keep talking. It was a clear setup by Jen and it worked. But I can feel him, his tension growing, and I start to distance myself from the conversation. Like most people in our line of work, Beth is an empath, senses my shift and mimics it.
She hands me her card. “I’d love to keep talking sometime.”
“Me, too,” I say, handing her mine. Will I call her? I doubt it, not that I don’t want to. “It’s been so great to meet you.”