petulant kid. “You’re the one who brought her up at dinner.”
“I certainly didn’t ask him about bringing flowers to her mother,” Aunt Meg says.
“Well, maybe he felt like he was on the spot.”
“Exactly,” she says, nodding too eagerly. “I really think that explains it. I just … thought I should tell you.”
A heavy silence hangs in the air.
“Anne?”
“Yep,” I murmur, staring straight out the passenger window.
“Maybe you should talk to Dr. Sennett about Blake.”
“I saw my mom in my dream.”
Dr. Sennett’s eyebrows arch.
“Just for a second,” I qualify. “We were communicating, though. She was trying to get me to fly a plane. Actually, she was insisting that I fly it. I kept telling her I didn’t know how—I was so scared, so I was flying really low, knocking into trees and buildings—but she told me I did know how, I just didn’t know I knew.”
I scan Dr. Sennett’s face for her reaction. “Is it torture to have to listen to people’s dreams for an hour?” I ask tentatively.
She laughs. “Nothing’s torturous about spending time with you, Anne,” she says. “You’re a delightful, insightful young woman.”
“Mmmmmm. Actually, I’m a mess.”
Dr. Sennett leans closer. “How so?”
I peer out her window. “The guy I told you about last week? The guy I’m dating? I keep getting these weird vibes.”
“Go on … ”
I shrug. “I can hardly even think of any examples,” I say, averting my eyes as a dozen or so examples pop effortlessly into my brain. I just can’t stand the thought of articulating them. My head hurts from thinking so much.
“What does your gut tell you?” Dr. Sennett says.
I smile ruefully. “My gut is seriously confused. I’m all over the map. One minute, I’m jumping for joy that I’ve found the greatest guy in the world. The next minute, I feel like I don’t know him at all.”
I pause, then say, “He kinda snapped at my girlfriend the other night—no biggie, just this quick flash of temper that really caught me off guard—and I thought, ‘Whoa, I didn’t see that coming.’ But even saying this out loud makes me feel silly, like, ‘Flash of temper: alert the media!’ Am I just looking for flaws?”
Dr. Sennett taps her pencil against the arm of her chair. “You didn’t go looking for that.”
“Yeah, but how ridiculous are my standards if I can’t even tolerate a little snippiness?”
“Initially, you called it a flash of temper.”
I roll my eyes dismissively. “Does it matter what I call it?”
She ponders the question, then says, “I think it does.”
My eyes fall. “I want this to be right.”
Dr. Sennett adjusts her glasses. “Wanting it to be right doesn’t mean it is.”
I squeeze my hands together. “I really think I’m overreacting.” And that whole lying-about-the-flowers thing? I’ll just keep that pesky example to myself. Not even worthy of a mention.
Dr. Sennett leans onto her forearms. “Let’s get hypothetical for a minute: You’ve decided it’s not right. For whatever reason, you decide this guy is not for you. Poof, just like that, one day he’s in your life, the next day, he’s gone. Where does that leave you?”
I bite my lip to steady my suddenly trembling chin. “Alone,” I say, in barely a whisper.
“Alone, huh,” Dr. Sennett muses. “Let’s see: You have your aunt and uncle. You have whatever girlfriend Mr. Wonderful snapped at. You have me. You have teachers who care about you, friends back home, other relatives … And most importantly, you have a future. A huge, unlimited future that will bring a whole new slew of people into your life, people you can’t even imagine right now. But can you try anyway? Can you use your imagination and try to picture your future?”
My eyes grow moist, blurring the trees outside Dr. Sennett’s window. “I can’t see Mom and Dad in my future. That’s all I can picture: the things that are missing.”
A long moment passes.
“Yet you’ll march into your future anyway,” Dr. Sennett finally says. “Even if you do nothing. Even if you tell yourself that whatever you’re holding in your hands right now is all you can count on so you can’t possibly let it go. You can’t hold on tight enough to make time stand still, Anne. Your future is coming, whether you like it or not.”
I sniffle and wipe a tear from my cheek.
“But you know what?” Dr. Sennett says in barely a whisper. “I think you’re gonna like it just fine.”
“You take it.”
“No, you take it.”
“No, you!”
Uncle Mark and I laugh at each other as