She returned with a glass of water.
“Thank you.”
She waited for me to drink. “I think Haylee has made a turn in the journey,” she continued. “How far and how strong a turn is something we’ll have to see, you’ll have to see. What I want to stress here is that your opinion will matter most to me, Kaylee. Before you return to school, your father will bring you back to see me. I’d rather we met here again. Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“But first we have to decide if you’re willing to have this happen.”
“I think my mother is anticipating it.”
“What do you want?” she insisted.
“I want to return to being five years old,” I said.
She smiled.
“Okay,” I said. “I won’t deny that I’m curious about her.”
“Would you, could you, accept her apology and welcome her remorse?”
“If it’s true, yes,” I said.
She leaned back again. “You’re both quite remarkable, despite how you were raised, but even though you were the one who truly suffered a life-affecting experience of horrid proportions, I think you’re going to be fine, outstanding, and more successful. Any visions of what you’d like to do?”
“Maybe what you’re doing,” I said. Her eyes widened as she smiled with surprise. “Now, you tell me something about yourself. What brought you here, to the place you’re at?”
Her smile didn’t fade as much as it was replaced with a look of vulnerability that only someone much, much younger might have.
“I was one of those children who never stopped asking why from the first day I could. Most of us have this quiet acceptance. Things happen, and we go on, but doing that never satisfied me. I was particularly aggressive in school. Most of my teachers actually tried to avoid me. My hand was always up after they said something. I was once sent to the principal because I was too disruptive with my demands to know the reasons behind rules. So it seemed natural for me to go into psychiatry.”
“I don’t suppose that made you popular with girlfriends and especially boys.”
She laughed. “No, it didn’t, but I learned how to control my inquisitiveness.”
“You were never married?”
“I was engaged once, but my fiancé collapsed under the scrutiny.”
“You caught him cheating on you,” I said.
“Something like that. You are going to do well,” she added. “I’m impressed. How is your social life at this new school, since we’re getting personal?”
“It’s good. I’ve met someone.”
For a moment, I wondered if I might not tell her everything about Troy. She was a psychiatrist, after all. Maybe she could offer some advice, but then I thought that would be a kind of betrayal. Troy was keeping my horrible experience secret. How could I not keep his?
“That’s great,” she said. “Again, I’m impressed. Dr. Sacks has done well with you. Well, I don’t know about you, but I would like to sample the cookies I made. I followed my mother’s recipe for oatmeal chocolate chip. How about it?”
“Maybe one . . . or two,” I said. “Where are your parents?”
“My mother passed away a little more than two years ago. Cancer. My father works on a cargo vessel, and since my mother’s death, he takes every assignment he can. He says travel keeps the lid on grief. This was their house. He signed it over to me, and for now it’s enough.”
“Life’s not easy, is it?”
“No,” she said, smiling. “But neither is the other option. C’mon,” she urged. “Let’s have some tea or coffee and talk about your school a little more. You’re more interesting.”
“Classic avoidance,” I said.