But I want you to tell me, Daralyn, if you can.”
She sighed. “My father and uncle said it was expensive to feed me, and I’d better not ever waste food, or eat a mouthful more than I needed to. Sometimes they’d make me so nervous while I was eating…I’d throw it up. Then they’d be really angry.”
She didn’t want to go back to that place in her head right now. She’d shifted her gaze to the mural. She could create a room that looked just like that in her head, go there…
“Daralyn.”
She looked up, and he was close again. His lips brushed over hers, making them part. That warm swirl happened in her belly as he gazed at her, so close his face was all there was. “Thank you for telling me. Don’t go away. Stay here with me. Tonight, that’s the only thing I’m going to ask you about your life before you came to live with us. I promise. And since it was tough, I’m going to give you a standing quid pro quo. You can ask me any question, no matter how uncomfortable you think it would be for me.”
“Quid pro quo.” She tried that one out on her tongue. “It means…”
“Sort of tit for tat. You gave me something, so I give you back something of equal value.”
“Oh.” She pulled her notebook out of her purse and had him spell it, so she could write it down, carefully forming the letters before she tucked it away again. “All right. Can I bank my question? I need to think about what to ask.”
Amusement had wreathed his face as he watched her, and it was still there. “It’s a standing offer. And when I ask you a question, if you don’t feel like you can answer it, that’s okay. Just say ‘pass.’”
“I’ll always answer you, Rory.” Because when he posed a question to her, she had to answer him in some acceptable way.
As a child, she hadn’t known what a choice was. Her uncle and father didn’t give her that option for anything they told her to do.
Ever.
Dr. Taylor spent a lot of time helping her learn how to think about whether she wanted to do something or not. A wall in her mind kept her from considering that in a meaningful way, but there was another quagmire to it.
While she was constantly assured there was no longer any punishment if she didn’t want to do something, she wasn’t convinced. If the caring people in her life wanted something from her she couldn’t give, the tangle of feelings about whether or not she’d let them down, disappointed them, failed them, would overcome her.
With Rory, there was something different about it. Her reasons for not wanting him to give her a choice on certain things, like answering his questions, had a different impulse. One she wasn’t quite sure she understood. She just knew it felt right to feel that way. Less paralyzing.
She didn’t want to talk to Dr. Taylor about it because she didn’t want the psychiatrist to tell her a feeling was wrong that felt so deeply right.
“Okay.” He didn’t ask her more about that. Just held her hand, playing with her fingers, caressing her palm, and encouraged her to talk about other things. Like the last time she was here. What she, Elaine and Les had talked about, eaten. Where they’d gone after the meal, the little second-hand shops where Daralyn had found a dish drainer in a cheerful bright red color and a sink stopper with a red, yellow, blue and green rooster design on the handle.
He was easy to talk to. The way he watched her as she spoke had her tucking her hair behind her ear, smiling more than usual, and wanting to laugh. He also made her feel good about herself, just with his attention, and the more she seemed to feel good, the more absorbed he seemed to be in her. Since the table they were at was a good size, Rory had directed her to sit with just the corner between them, instead of across from one another. She had her legs crossed, and the side of her foot brushed his pants leg. Though she knew he couldn’t feel it, she saw his gaze flick in that direction more than once, lingering on the contact.
When the food came, it was as if they’d been in a lavender-tinged bubble, and the waitress had stepped out of that concealing fog, bringing them back