Jillian laughed. “Then tell him you did it.”
“Nah, he’s knows I don’t have a handy bone in my body.”
Lilith looked up from reading her book in her favorite recliner and waved at Jillian.
“How’s she doing today?”
“It’s been a good day. I think it’s because she’s getting rid of my old ass for the afternoon and she gets you instead.”
“So what’s on your agenda today?”
Dodge sat on the bench by the garage door, tying his shoes. “The usual. Bank, grocery shopping, wash the car, and maybe I’ll pick up some perennials at the nursery.” He stood. “Lilith’s lunch is in the oven. Leftover tuna noodle casserole.”
“Okay, I’ll get her lunch then start working on the bathroom.”
“Thanks, Jillian. You’re a savior.” Dodge winked before shutting the door.
She smiled at Lilith’s expectant blue-gray eyes. “I’ll check on your lunch.” She pointed to herself and then the oven because miming was as close to sign language as Jillian could get.
Lilith smiled back. She hadn’t asked if Lilith could read lips or if she knew any sign language; not that it mattered because the only real sign language Jillian knew was please, thank you, and sorry.
“I think it’s done,” Jillian called. Why? She wasn’t sure. There was something comforting about thinking aloud without feeling like a mental patient. She didn’t dwell on the fact that Lilith couldn’t hear her.
“Shit!” Jillian fisted her hand, sucking her knuckle that grazed the oven’s heating element. After handing Lilith her lunch she ran cold water over her knuckle. “Luke still has a scar on his finger from dinner that night.” Jillian rubbed her middle finger, not where her burn was, but where Luke’s had been.
*
Day
Jessica had been seeing Dr. Jones for three months. They hadn’t made much progress in her mind. Dr. Jones assured her once she stopped asking questions about him and started focusing on her past she’d see improvement and small breakthroughs that would lead to an emotional healing or at least an acceptable means of coping.
He tossed her a morsel of information on a rare occasion. She’d learned that he wasn’t married, wasn’t gay, and wasn’t related in any way to his secretary.
“Tell me about your childhood.” He’d asked on more than one occasion. It had become clear that he didn’t believe her childhood could be summed up in less than five sentences.
“My dad worked long hours as a DEA agent and my mom was a stay-at-home mom. In school Jude and I were placed in different classes, as was customary with twins, so we could establish a sense of ‘individuality.’ I played every sport, got good grades, had lots of friends, and went on my first official date when I was fifteen.”
Dr. Jones latched onto the date disclosure. “Tell me about your boyfriends in school.”
“Why? Are you sizing up your competition?” Jessica wiggled her eyebrows from her designated spot—his desk chair.
He never took the bait, not even with an eye roll or smile. Jessica felt certain psychiatrists were trained to have selective hearing. Then again, she also considered the possibility that it was a guy thing.
“My boyfriends, well, let me think…” she spun around in his chair like a five-year-old on the teacups, head back, long dark hair dangling behind the expensive leather ride “…mostly jocks who wanted to see how far they could go with me. I wasn’t a slut so at best they’d get to second base.” She grabbed the desk, coming to an abrupt halt. “I didn’t have large bases at the time.”
Jessica waited for Dr. Jones to react, but as usual—nothing. She grinned and shoved off the desk, sending the chair whirling again. “I bet you hit some serious home runs in your day, Dr. Jones.” Early on, Jessica had given up on keeping her attraction to him a secret. It was also her way of testing his professionalism. And damn if he wasn’t militant about it!
“What age were you when you lost your virginity?”
Jessica let the chair slow to a stop, with her back facing Dr. Jones while she admired her exorbitantly expensive view of the bay. “Physically or emotionally?”
“Both.”
After fifteen minutes of silence Jessica answered. “I was nineteen when Pete claimed my hymen.” She closed her eyes. “I was seventeen when Four stole my emotional innocence and killed my best friend.”
“Tell me about Pete.”
Jessica laughed out loud, spinning around to face Dr. Jones. “Pete? That’s the direction you want to go?”
He capped his pen and rested his ankle on his opposing knee. His black pants rode up showing his argyle socks. Only Dr. Luke Jones could make argyle sexy. Luke made everything sexy.
“Fine … Peter McAllister played guitar at a jazz club. I met him when I was on a date.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sadly, I don’t remember the guy who took me there. I just remember leaving with Pete. He was older and sexy as hell.” She pinned Dr. Jones with an intense stare as a wry grin captured her lips. “You know what that’s like, huh?” She winked.