Pissed off was an understatement. The insurance company had to be joking.
“What do you mean ‘a last minute replacement’?” My voice became more aggravated by the second.
“Ms. Winters, due to the nature of Dr. Mayweather’s accident, she had limited time to choose a replacement. Dr. Jacobs is available right away for a temporary assignment and takes your insurance policy.”
“Do you understand the nature of a therapist/patient relationship? How do you expect me to be able to talk to a complete stranger?” I said hotly.
I felt awful for being angry with Dr. Mayweather. Her accident was two weeks ago and she would be in the hospital for at least six months from her doctor’s estimate. The insurance was just now calling me to say I would have a completely new, temporary doctor taking over my case. Two days before my next scheduled appointment. I thought I would just rather wait out Dr. Mayweather’s recovery.
“Dr. Mayweather didn’t feel comfortable postponing your treatment, given the progress you’ve made and how close you are to completion.”
They made me sound like some deranged person. I did kind of feel like one right now, with this sudden change. “Well thanks for that, I just might relapse now.” I slammed the phone down on my kitchen counter and engrossed myself in stirring the spaghetti violently.
Nine months! I was almost done with this ordeal and now this. I ran my hands through the ebony tendrils of my hair, piling it on top my head in a hairband. I didn’t need hair in my sauce with the mood I was in.
If it wasn’t for that asshole I wouldn’t be dealing with this. My ex-boyfriend had been an obsessive, possessive, and violent individual. He had done things to me, to my friends and at my place of work that had almost cost me my career…and my life. I tried not to think about the scars I carried mentally and physically.
Absently, I rubbed my left side. It always ached when I was stressed, thanks to the stab wound that left a pale pink, four-inch scar from hip to waist. Jerry started out as a nice guy, typical, but slowly his true colors started to show through and the fear began to grow. The really weird and deranged behavior began once I got a restraining order. When he was finally arrested for harassment and domestic violence, I could hardly believe it was over.
I had become comfortable with Dr. Mayweather. She was a kind and insightful woman and I trusted her. She was older than me, but not quite in her forties. It took me a while to even be able to speak about some of the things that had happened between Jerry and me, things that he had done. I was making progress. A new doctor just made me want to shut down all over again, just when I was beginning to feel good enough about the whole situation to move on.
My front door opened and a small smile spread across my face.
“Honey, I’m home,” my best friend and co-worker, Stacy, called.
“In the kitchen,” I called back.
“Mm what smells good?”
“Spaghetti.” I replied as Stacy sauntered into view. She weaved around the modern, but simple furnishings as she approached the kitchen. The neutral colors of dark and light shades played on the shadows of her movement in the low lit living room.
Her coffee-colored locks bounced around her heart-shaped face as she plopped down in one of the bar stools around the counter. The difference in our appearances was striking. Stacy swore I was a vampire with my fair skin and dark hair. The icy blue of my eyes made it even worse. I couldn’t help the Russian ancestry. Her own green eyes sparkled as she grinned at me looking over the white tile, she sniffed at the stove.
“What are you all smiles about?” I grunted.
“We have new clients coming in at the end of the week,” she announced cheerfully. I scowled.
“I thought you’d be happy.” She frowned, registering my mood. I looked up at her from under my eyelashes.
“Don’t give me that look. What’s wrong, blue eyes?” Usually, I didn’t mind the nickname. Especially because her endearing southern accent came out when she was concerned, but after the phone call with my insurance agent, it made me frown.
“You know I told you my doctor had that terrible car accident, right?”
Stacy nodded. I filled her in on the conversation I just had over the phone. She could tell how annoyed I was when the noodle strainer slipped from my hand as I spoke, cursing in mid-sentence.
“Well, good, when is your next session?” I heard her crimson nails clacking on the bar’s counter when I finished.
“Two days.”
“Whoa, that’s not much notice.”
“Exactly my point. And a complete stranger.” My tone was exasperated as I mixed the meat, spaghetti, and sauce together.
“I’m sure they will be informed of your case.”
“I know, but a total stranger…knowing all that. I know it’s all confidential, but I’m just going to shut down again.”
“No, you can’t do that, I won’t let you. You went through hell and you’re finally starting to be you again. Just pretend it’s Mayweather.”
I snorted. “Easy for you to say.”
“Hey, I want to kill Kenneth from time to time.” I turned to smile at my friend and busied myself with putting the rest of the meal together. We always ate at my or her place on Sunday nights. Usually we go over work for the next week and have a glass of wine together…or three.
Kenneth was her boyfriend of three years. I’ve known Stacy for three times as long. We met in college and have been practically inseparable since. We rose through the ranks of web design of a small company, Jespersen Designs and were a great team. She brought in the clients and I worked with them to design whatever they needed.
I put down our plates while she poured the wine.
“Cheers,” we both said, tapping our glasses together.
“So who are these clients?” I asked.
“Well, they need a website designed for the private practice they are starting together, some field of medicine. I haven’t had much time to look over the portfolio yet.”
“Did you at least find out their names?”
“The main financier is a Kyle and his partner I think the portfolio said Ethan or Evan, but I haven’t looked much yet.” She shrugged taking a bite.
“Friday, then?”
“Yep, as usual. We have Cooper and Terry to deal with first thing this week, though.” I just nodded.
New clients, new therapist…my week was beginning to look busy and stressful. We ate the rest of our meal in comfortable silence and did the dishes together. We settled in my living room and discussed the rest of the week’s business for the next hour or so.
My mind was distracted. I began to feel a little overwhelmed with these new changes. My thoughts drifted to Jerry. He had made a great defense for himself and had gotten a fairly lenient sentence. One year in jail and five years’ probation on parole. The restraining order had and would stay maxed out upon his release, a thousand yards away from me for the rest of his life. I would find out more information later, when my lawyer sent me the conditions of his parole and release as informational. It made me nervous that he would be out in three or four months’ time.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Stacy’s accent was in full force tonight it seemed; she must be worried about my little announcement.
“Was just thinking about Jerry’s release…”
“I wish you wouldn’t worry so much about him anymore,” she huffed, leaning back against the couch. I followed her lead, but with a glass of wine in my hand.
“I know, I’m long over him, it just scares me he’s the only man I am afraid of,” Stacy’s giggles interrupted me and it made me smirk. “I’ve started talking about that with Mayweather in session you know and now…” I sighed, closing my eyes.
“He could have killed you if you didn’t take those steps. Stop worrying about him. You can still talk in your therapy, just feel out this new doctor for a session or two first.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Stacy patted my shoulder as her phone buzzed. “That would be Ken calling you home.” I smiled.
“He must be bored or lost his poker game,” she giggled. “Are you going to be okay?”
I stood up and took the glasses into the kitchen, not bothering to wash them. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll figure out how to deal with this.”
“Okay, gimme some love.”
I giggled, hugging her. “Be safe.”
“Always. See you in the morning.”
“Yeah, night, Stacy.” I followed her to the door, locking it behind her.
Settling down for the night, I changed into my pajamas and turned on my miniature television in my bedroom. My little four-legged friend padded over to the bed. Boxer, I know, his name wasn’t very original, but I loved him and the little grunting noises he made when he was pleased. He jumped up on the bed and made himself comfortable in his usual spot, the pillow next to mine. Boxer was my life line and has been with me for a long time.
“Hello Boxer.” I mumbled yawning. He rumbled at me. “Do you think this new shrink will work out?”
Boxer snorted.
“Yeah I know that wasn’t fair. Shrinks are psychiatrists not psychologists.” I yawned scratching Boxer behind his ears. Though, it didn’t really matter. Most any type of therapist is called a shrink these days.
That little rumble started up in his throat and I chuckled. Guess the wine was a bit much tonight. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.
*
We lived in California, specifically, the Sausalito area, so the breeze coming in through the window as I cut off the engine to my car had the aroma of salty sea air at dusk. I took a big breath. The beginning of this work week had been hell so far. I had a bad day and was not looking forward to the therapy session with the new doctor. It took me a few minutes to get the nerve to even leave my car.
I told myself, I was here, might as well go inside and deal with this. Stacy kept me busy purposely until this Tuesday evening. Just so I wouldn’t think about dealing with this new therapist and cancel or reschedule the appointment.
Still dressed in my sharp, fitted gray business suit from work, done for the day, I pulled my hair into a sloppy bun with my hairband. I didn’t really care what this therapist would think of me. Tired and annoyed, I walked into the familiar counseling building.
I dragged my feet, walking into the reception waiting room. The ‘elevator’ music as I called it played on the overhead speakers at a low volume and it made me feel like I was walking into a Kenny G. concert. Soft rock music always rubbed me the wrong way here.
“Sonja Winters, appointment at six. Dr. Mayweather…I am now assuming Dr. Jacobs,” I said in an annoyed monotone.
“Yes, of course, Ms. Winters. If you will have a seat, we will call you when Dr. Jacobs is ready.” She smiled pleasantly. I grimaced as friendly as I could back at her. Juliana, the receptionist, though, I was familiar with her and she with me, always spoke to me like I was a brand new patient. I noticed this was a theme with all of the staff, except the doctors. I sighed, actually wishing I was at work right now.
Knowing the drill, I nodded. I took a seat and picked up an outdated magazine from the bunch scattered on the tables. They dated back to the June and July editions of last year, though it was currently August of the current year – 2013.
I sighed, I could just imagine this new therapist having one of those metronomes, the bar sliding around back and forth sitting on their desk. Or that liquid wave display that swayed gently up and down trying to give off an aura of peace and quiet on the ocean. Oh, oh, oh! What about that miniature sand box with the mini sand rakes to play with, for making symmetrical lines in the sand? Irritated, I groaned silently to myself, hoping none of this would be the ordinary with this new doctor. I just wanted to get this first session over with.
I continued to flip through the magazine, wetting the tip of each page sarcastically with my index finger. One leg was crossed over the other and I tried to look nonchalant, though my stomach churned like butter.
“Ms. Winters, the doctor will see you now.”
“Same office?” I asked, slapping the magazine down where I had picked it up from.
She nodded in response and I rolled my eyes at her with indifference – she didn’t even notice. The receptionist buzzed me through the outer door that led down the hall to the offices and I walked back to the one I have been in for almost a year.
I absolutely dreaded this moment. What would this doctor be like? Probably one of those uncaring, uptight ladies who didn’t really care about the patient, just wanted to make their hundred dollars an hour.
Here we go. I stepped inside and half stepped back out again as I looked up – and up at the man behind the desk. I noticed there were none of the items I feared would be there on his desk.
“I’m sorry. I was told Dr. Jacobs would be in here.” I turned to leave.
“Yes, you are in the right place. I am Dr. Jacobs. Are you Ms. Winters?”
The hair on the back of my neck rose from the sound of his voice. My spine tingled and I shook it off as the feeling of being uncomfortable. I turned to glare at him.
“You’re Dr. Jacobs?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes Ma'am,” he stood behind the desk, just watching me curiously. The rich depth of his voice heated my cheeks.
The glorious deep brown of his eyes never faltered in their gaze on me. I stared at the molten chocolate depths. He had no expression in the lines of his face, no brow furrowing, nothing to give away what he might be thinking while I stood there staring, dumbfounded.
The dark brown messy locks of his hair fell around his chiseled face framing him perfectly. Confidence and strength surrounded him. I could see his muscular body through his clothes as he breathed evenly. The sinew rippled under the powder-blue dress shirt he wore. The medium thick beard was an added bonus, along with the scent of fresh linen and a spicy musk. My senses caught up with me slamming into my chest. I shook my head the tiniest bit and became livid.
“There must be some mistake!” I said breathlessly, and stomped out of the room back down the hall to the receptionist desk. Not that I minded having a male therapist, but it was completely unexpected with the type of case I had.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I asked. There were now two other patients in the waiting room. Both of whom looked up at my cynical tone.
“What can I help you with Ms. Winters?” Little receptionist Juliana, the petite red-head looked confused.
“My new therapist?”
“Um, yes. Mr. Jacobs came highly recommended…” I did not miss the tone in her voice that said she was attracted to him. A sting of anger swept through me at the little twit’s obviousness.
“No, there must be some kind of mistake.” My heart pounded in my chest. There was no way I was talking to that man. I had the acute feeling that it wasn’t because he was a man and a therapist, but a man – a handsome man. One I felt immediately attracted to and who stirred something in me I had never felt before.
“Ms. Winters, I assure you there is no mistake. Please come back to the office and I will explain the situation to you.”
I whirled at the sound of that voice, his voice. It sent chills down the center of my spine – dead center – and I shivered. His eyes locked with mine and if I wasn’t angrier than I had ever felt about having a new therapist, I might have melted under his gaze under different circumstances. His eyes were…mesmerizing.
No! I refuse. A male therapist? For me? No way. Not happening. I couldn’t believe Dr. Mayweather would have recommended this. My nostrils flared with my exasperation. I stood tall with pride as I spoke.
“I want to speak with Dr. Mayweather. Now.”
I knew she was well enough to speak. This was changing, and changing fast. There was no way in hell I would be getting on the couch with this Greek god.