The Boss Project

“If you’d like, but you don’t have to.”

He jumped into the air and flounced down on the couch. He stretched his long legs out and propped his head up on a pillow with his hands tucked behind it. “Ah… This is kind of nice. I don’t know why everyone is moaning and groaning about having to come here. It’s better than kindergarten. You get milk and cookies, and then it’s nap time.”

I smiled. “Well, nap position anyway. The idea isn’t really for you to go to sleep.”

“No worries. I couldn’t fall asleep during the day if someone had a gun to my head.” Will motioned to his head and twirled his finger around. “Once this on switch gets flipped, it’s on until it runs out of power, around two AM usually.”

“Two AM? I saw you here at seven the other morning.”

“I don’t require a lot of sleep.”

“Were either of your parents that way?”

Will nodded. “My mom. She could sleep four or five hours a night and be good to go. My dad always said she was just afraid she’d miss a conversation.”

“It’s actually genetic for some people,” I said. “A few years ago, they found a gene mutation that can get passed through families. It’s called the ADRB1 gene. It causes a shortened sleep cycle.”

“No shit? I always knew I was a mutant.”

I chuckled.

Will sprang upright and put his feet on the floor. “It feels weird to talk to you without looking at you. Why is it always that way in the movies?”

“Freud believed having patients not make eye contact made them feel freer, that people were more relaxed and likely to say whatever came to their mind when they weren’t focused on being watched and were in the supine position.”

“Is that true?”

“For some people. It’s whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

Will nodded. “So how does this work? Where do we start?”

“I like to start slow, get to know each other a little bit.”

“Okay. Shoot. What do you want to know?”

I picked up the steno pad and pen I had set on the table next to me and flipped to the first open page. “Have you ever been to therapy before?”

“Does marriage counseling count?”

I nodded. “It does. Are you still actively in therapy?”

“Nope.” He held up his hand to show me a ringless finger. “Happily divorced.”

“How long ago were you divorced?”

“It was finalized about eighteen months ago.”

“And how long did you go to therapy?”

“Six sessions.”

“Oh. Did you not feel like it was working?”

“No, that’s how long it took for my ex to admit she was sleeping with the neighbor.”

“I’m sorry. Are you comfortable talking about your marriage?”

Will shrugged. “It’s not my favorite topic, but sure.”