Find Her, Keep Her (CFTM Sequel)

Chapter 3

Besides, even if I high-tailed it on the metro right now, I'd still be thirty-minutes late give or take.

I promised myself that I wouldn't start screwing up my sessions or skipping out on them altogether like I did when I first got out of rehab. At least, helping out my mom's a decent excuse. Either way--missing out's gonna cost me twenty-five bucks.

That was the deal.

Fifteen dollars for showing up late.

Twenty-five for a missed session.

The guy basically sucked all the income outta my part-time retail job for the first couple months we started outpatient therapy. When you barely make a hundred a week, fifteen dollars starts kicking the shit outta your wallet. So I learned my lesson pretty quick. 

Decent guys show up on time. But hey, he can't judge me too much for putting my mom first.

I stand up as quietly as I can, shoot a parting smile to the padre setting up candles at the front. I've never actually talked to the guy, 'cause talking would mean having to explain why I'm here all the time, and that's not really something I wanna do. 

Not yet away.

The nice thing is, he always smiles. Always looks like he's ready and willing to listen if I ever need him to. I respect him for that. At least he's willing to help strangers through their problems. My brother won't even help me fix the ones he caused.

My phone buzzes again.

Time to go.

I jog out the front door and step into the early afternoon sunlight before answering.

Incoming Call from Dan Perry at 1:26 PM:

DP: I'll take my fifteen dollar bonus in cash, Mr. King. Where are you? I'd like to talk to you about some of the stuff you've been writing. All good news!

EK: Hey Dan, sorry for not calling sooner, but I'm not gonna be able to make it today. Just add twenty-five to my tab, my mom needs me at home.

DP: And you couldn't tell me this in advance because...?

EK: My brother's flying in from LA, and I'm stressed the fuck out. Trust me, I need today's session more than you know.

DP: Oh I know. I'm your therapist, Elias, it's my job to know. Look, just remember what we talked about and things will be fine. Stay away from trigger topics like--

EK: The fact that he ruined my relationship with my ex-girlfriend? Sure, Dan. Will do. I'll just smile at him across the dinner table, talk about the weather, and pretend we're the fucking Brady Bunch.

DP: You've gotta learn how to redirect your aggression, Elias. Maybe try writing in your journal before he shows up.

EK: I can't. My mom's home.

DP: Is that a problem?

EK: Uh, yeah. She snoops like a damn bloodhound. If she catches me lounging around writing on a day when she expects me to be cleaning the house, two things will happen. First, she'll castrate me for slacking off, and then she'll raid my room, read all my personal shit about Alex, and shoot me for it. I don't let her into my room for a reason.

DP: Elias, I thought you told her about what you've been working on.

EK: I lied. Sorry. My family's not perfect, okay? There are some things my mom can't know about. This whole thing with Alex is one of them. Me hating Tanner because of what he did to me and Alex is another.