TWENTY-SEVEN
DR. STRICK SLID A BOX of Kleenex across the desk to Rod.
“It's completely normal to cry.” Rod took four tissues. “Especially, after this sort of loss.”
“It's my fault she's dead.” His voice jumped sporadically around the words.
“It's not your fault.”
Rod nodded insistently.
“Did you run her down?”
Rod looked stunned by his question. “God. No!”
“Then, it wasn't your fault. It's perfectly normal to feel as if you could've prevented her death. That's something everyone believes. The thing is, when the time comes. It just comes.”
“But, I'd”—Rod paused—”I had told her I was leaving her.”
“When?”
Rod looked down at his hands again. “Right before.”
“Ahh,” Dr. Strick said.
Rod explained and broke down crying again.
“So because you were leaving her she died?”
“Of course not.” He glowered at Dr. Strick. “But, if things had been different? If I had gone with her?”
“Yes. If, if, if. If the sun exploded tomorrow, I suppose you could've prevented that too. Right?”
“Look. I'm not here to be belittled by you.”
“And, I am not belittling you. You're saying if things were different. Right?”
Rod nodded.
“But things weren't different. They aren't different.” He patted Rod's arm. “And another thing.” He stood and walked back to his desk. “We cannot, no matter how much we want to, turn back the hands of time.”
Dr. Strick sat again.
“We have a few minutes left. Have any questions for me?”
“Can you move into my house?” Rod looked hopeless.
Dr. Strick chuckled. “Boy, I never get asked that one!” He rolled his eyes. “I have invitations to live with a vast number of my patients.” He sat forward in his chair. “Look, Rod. These instances of seeing things, hearing things. Normal. So normal I can't even tell you. People's minds play tricks on them. The mind is an amazing piece of equipment. It can crumble into a billion pieces and then mend itself in seconds. The thing is, you're dealing with loss and grief right now. It will be quite some time before you feel like your old self again. Okay?”
“Okay.” Rod sniffled and coughed.
“You continue to come here and we'll see you get through it together. All right?”
“Yep. Doctor.”
“Tom.” He looked at his watch.
“Tom. Thanks.” Rod looked at the clock on the wall. His hour was up.
YOU ARE READING
The Deer Effect by Susan Wingate
FantasyWINNER OF THREE LITERARY AWARDS IN 2015! If "The Art of Racing in the Rain" got intertwined with "The Lovely Bones," you'd get THE DEER EFFECT. ...between Heaven and Earth lies The Deer Effect... "High psychological suspense." "Inspiring and uplifti...
