But I never got that chance.
The door opened and I stumbled forward. A bright and cheery woman of no more than forty smiled at me. “You must be Ms. Wilder.”
“R-Rae,” I mumbled, my heart racing with fear. With the way I was sweating you would’ve thought the woman was trying to kill me.
“Rae,” she repeated, “it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Daniels but you can call me Kathleen.”
“Kathleen,” I repeated, my pulse racing.
“Yes.” She closed the door and sat down in a chair, not behind a desk like my old therapist had. “Sit, please.” She motioned to the other unoccupied chair.
I scurried over and sat down. I figured to her I must’ve looked like a frightened rabbit.
She grabbed a notebook and pen off a table, depositing them in her lap. “How are you today?”
“Good, I guess.” I mumbled, staring out the window where morning sunlight streamed in the window.
“You guess?” She repeated.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled. I didn’t know this woman, not yet, and no matter how kind she might look with her warm brown eyes and sweet smile she was still a stranger.
“That’s fine. Why don’t we spend this session getting to know each other?” She suggested.
“Excuse me?” I replied, my brows rising. My last therapist had made it very obvious that he was the doctor and I was the patient. But this woman was different.
“I think we should get to know each other,” she repeated. Sliding forward in her seat she peered at me. “I’m here to help you, Rae, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“Friends?” I snorted.
She smiled. “Yes, friends. I’m not your enemy. I want you to get better as much as you want to get better.”
“How do you know I want to get better?” I countered, looking around the room at the framed photos and memorabilia. It looked like she was married to a nice man with two children. She had a lot of books and not all of them were medical books. Many were fiction. I even saw a set of Harry Potter books, which made me smile as I thought of Cade.
“If you didn’t want to get better you wouldn’t be here,” she replied easily.
“What do you want to know about me?” I asked.
She smiled. “I think maybe you should ask me that first.”
“Why?” My brows furrowed together.
She smiled, crossing her legs. “Because, I want you to see that I’m not here to analyze you.”
I wanted to snort at that, but I kept myself in check. “Okay then…what are your kids names?” I pointed at one of the framed photos.
“Tessa and Tyler,” she replied. “We adopted them.”
“You couldn’t have kids?” I asked, and then promptly felt bad for asking. It wasn’t proper of me to pry and I wasn’t sure quite how far I could take this question thing.
“Sadly, I couldn’t,” she frowned, her eyes growing distant. “But I love those two as much as if they were my own flesh and blood. They’re my miracles.” I could see the love she was talking about as she spoke. “You’re in college, correct?” She asked. At my nod, she continued. “What are you studying?”
“Photography,” I answered, my thundering heart slowing to a dull roar.
“Photography?” She repeated. “Wow. I’d love to see some of your photos sometime.”
“I could bring some next time,” I mumbled.
“That would be great,” she clapped her hands together. “I always did have such an appreciation for the arts. I played the violin as a child.”