“Have either of you thought about talking to someone again?” Mary asks.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Hollywood says, which is news to me. “With the baby coming, I can see how it might be helpful to have a neutral place to vent.”
“Definitely.” Mary turns to me. “What about you, McKenzie?”
“Can’t say I’ve given it any thought.” I try to catch Hollywood’s gaze, but she seems to be going out of her way to avoid looking in my direction—kind of like how she avoided telling me Mary was coming to dinner.
Teagan, who never runs out of things to say, seems content to fuss over Joey’s sauce-stained bib.
“If you girls want,” Mary says, “I can pass along my friend’s business card.”
“That’d be great.” Hollywood looks at me, and the contrition on her face mirrors the betrayal I feel in my chest.
Rather than tell me privately that she thinks I need to go back to therapy, she chose to orchestrate this little...intervention?
“No, thanks,” I tell Mary.
“That’s all right. I’ll give the card to Holly in case you change your mind—”
“Are you sure, Kenzie?” Hollywood rests both hands on her belly. “It’s just, your nightmares have been getting worse and I thought—”
“You thought it would be a good idea to ambush me?”
She winces. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it, exactly? Because it feels like my best friend lied to me about the real point behind this dinner.”
“McKenzie,” Mary says evenly. “I know it can be difficult to talk about things that trigger you.”
“Yeah, and I already talked about them with the first counselor.”
“True. But that was a while ago, and it sounds like you might still be struggling with some unresolved trauma.”
“Nothing is unresolved,” I say. “Hoyt Renier is dead. It can’t get moreresolvedthan that. Is it so fucking abnormal that I’d have nightmares about the man who tried to murder me?”
Joey slaps a hand over his mouth.
I glance over at Teagan and sigh. “Sorry.”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. He’s a goldfish.”
“It is absolutely normal to dream about significant life events,” Mary says. “But dreams can often be the mind’s way of alerting us to things we might not be fully cognizant of in our waking life.”
“It’s not just about Hoyt, Kenzie,” Hollywood says softly. “I don’t think you’ve let yourself process what happenedbeforeall that. You know, with...him.”
I stop breathing. My spine bows. I suddenly feel like I have to pee, but I fear if I try to stand up, I’ll collapse in on myself.
“This has nothing to do with that,” I say, my voice low and firm.
Hollywood nods. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just think these nightmares—”
“Forget the stupid nightmares.” I swallow past the stiffness in my throat. “What are you trying to do, Hollywood?”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“We’re all here to help,” Teagan says.
“I don’t need your help! I’m fine.”