scrolled down the webpage of preferred providers under Kent’s health plan, I wondered which fucking psychotherapist to choose. There were several here just in podunk Winchester who specialized in child psychology, so I had no idea who to pick. Draw straws? Close my eyes and point to one? Even the star ratings given by other patients merely muddied the waters. I finally called Sarah’s physician to ask for a referral. The receptionist said she’d talk to the doctor and get back with me.
While waiting for the phone to ring, I chain smoked but checked on Sarah occasionally. My daughter had fallen back asleep on top of her bed, clothes still on. Finally, I started pacing around the kitchen, keeping myself busy with little chores like watering the neglected plants and wiping out the microwave. I should have been reading for classes, but I knew I couldn’t fucking concentrate right now. I got to the point where I felt completely stir crazy, and I’d already smoked way too many cigarettes, so I began washing the off-white cabinets and walls in the kitchen as an excuse to occupy myself. I’d started preparing lunch and was going to wake Sarah up when the doctor’s office finally called back. She recommended two different child psychologists in town, and after I hung up, I looked at the list. Only one was a preferred provider in Kent’s insurance plan, which meant that was the only one I could afford.
Lunch could wait.
I dialed the office of Rebecca Hopkins, LPC, RPT and waited for an answer.
“River View Mental Health.”
“Hi. I need to set an appointment for my daughter with Rebecca Hopkins.”
After giving the woman on the line Sarah’s insurance info, I waited while she put me on hold. Walking back to the counter, I started cutting the sandwiches I’d made in half, placing them on plates until she came back on the line.
“Ma’am? Dr. Hopkins has an opening on Friday at 10 AM. Would you like me to schedule your daughter then?”
“Yes, please.” I’d have some rearranging to do, but it was necessary. I couldn’t drag my feet now that I knew this was what had to be done.
I turned the burner on the stove off so the soup wouldn’t boil over, and then I checked on Sarah again. Still fast asleep.
Then I went outside and lit another cigarette before making one other call.
“Play It Again. John speaking. How can I help you?”
“John, this is Randi.”
“What’s up?”
“I need to talk to Kathy. Is she there?” Although I had my manager’s cell phone, I much preferred to speak with her when she was officially on the clock.
“Yeah. Just a minute.” When he set the phone down, I took a moment to take down a deep drag of smoke.
Soon, I heard Kathy’s voice coming through my phone. “Randi, how’s your daughter?”
“That’s actually why I’m calling. She has an appointment with a child psychologist on Friday morning, so I wondered if I could switch my shift with someone else.” My gut clenched while I waited for her response.
“Is everything okay?”
“Not really. I’m worried about her. She set a fire at school yesterday.”
“Oh, dear God. Was anybody hurt?”
“No. But the school counselor thinks there’s something going on with Sarah that she’s not telling us.”
“Could be. I hope the psychologist helps. Look, I was closing Friday night. If you want to switch shifts with me, I could open the store for you.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Four o’clock?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you so much, Kathy. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, do I need to remind you we’re family here? We’ll make it work. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
While I thanked her, I knew she could talk a good game—but I’d experienced different results in the past. Still, for now, I’d take it.
However, that brought me to yet another call.
I dialed Noreen. While I could have run across the street to chat with her, I preferred to keep contact with her at a minimum, because she was often quite clingy, leading me to believe she didn’t have many friends. When she answered, I said, “Hey, Noreen, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Sure.”
“I need to take Sarah to the doctor Friday morning, so now I have to work that night. Would you be able to watch her Friday night?”
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry. I’ve got plans.”
That sucked.
She asked, “Does it have anything to do with what happened yesterday?”
“Yeah.” And because I knew Noreen would ask me about it if I didn’t cut her off at the pass, I