A Family Affair(79)

“Can’t you just tell me? Because something tells me you think you know a bit about it.”

He grinned boyishly. “Nice try, Doctor,” he said. “You have been doing things differently than you were when you came in for your first session and I suggest to you that it has led to changes in how you feel.”

“Possibly,” she said. “But none of it was by my intention. Except Wriggly—he was on purpose and he has changed my feelings. I’m deep in love.”

He wrote something down on a piece of paper and handed it to her. Whether by circumstance, intention or accident, how have different actions related to different feelings?

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll make a list.”

“And may I see some pictures of Wriggly? Because I know you have some.”

“Of course,” she said, beaming. And she went through her phone, showing him a lot of pictures.

“You’re right, Jessie,” he said. “He is a beautiful, sweet-looking pup.”

Because she was nearby, she went to her favorite Mexican restaurant. She went directly to the bar and was greeted by a smiling waitress. “Hola, Dr. Jessie,” she said, pronouncing Jessie as Yessie.

“Hola, Marcita. How are you?”

“Excellent. Today do I get you a table?”

“No, thank you. I just want three tacos to go.”

“Sí. Uno momento.”

She climbed on a stool to wait and decided she would report to her journal notebook that, for whatever reason, waiters and waitresses appeared to be friendlier these days, but it could be all about the holidays. The restaurant was decorated as were so many of the little shops. In fact, Cassie and her husband had spent last weekend putting up some decorations in the clinic. It caused Jessie to be reminded that her mom and dad had always decorated quite a lot and this year it would be Anna alone and she was still in recovery. Jessie would stop her before she started and make sure she had help with the decorating. She would call Michael and go over and help. They’d have to get it done right away before Anna dug into the decorations.

She collected her tacos, left a nice tip and wished the waitress a merry Christmas. As she was leaving, someone called her name. She turned and saw Patrick, sitting at his favorite table, now kept warm on the patio by space heaters. He had not been there when she came in. She would have noticed. It had become habit for her to look at that particular table.

She walked toward him. “Hello, Patrick. How are you?”

“Great, but how are you? And how is your mother? Won’t you sit for a minute?”

She thought about it briefly, then slid into the chair across from him. “Just for a minute. My mom is doing great. She’s coming back into the city, to her office and the court, at least a couple of days a week. There are still a few adjustments—getting that blood thinner right, for one thing. But you should see her—she looks great. And she’s determined. She moved me out and sent me back to my condo—said she’s ready to have her house back. If you want my opinion, she’s a rock star.”

“That’s outstanding,” he said. “How about you?”

“Great, thanks. I just stopped off for some tacos to go.”

“Are you in a great hurry? I’d love to buy you a glass of wine.”

She lifted her bag. “I don’t know. I have a young gentleman waiting for me.”

He grinned. “And who might that be?”

She put down her take-out order and fished in her purse for her phone, scrolling through the pictures of Mr. Wriggly.

“And who is this?” he asked.

“It’s the craziest thing. I thought I should have a cat. You know, something warm and fuzzy and counting on me to come home and feed him, but I fell in love with a little spaniel. Of course, the first one I saw was sold but a nice lady at a rescue told me about Wriggly, whose owner was going into a nursing home and had to give up her dog. Wriggly and I have promised to go visit her once in a while. I never thought about that before—what happens to the pets when their owners get sick or even die. But I’m crazy about this little guy.”

“I bet you have a lot of people counting on you these days,” he said.

The same waitress who had given Jessie her takeout brought Patrick his nachos, his usual order.

“Jessie, let’s get you a glass of wine. Have your takeout put on a plate and you can help me with my nachos. We have some catching up to do.”

“I don’t want to keep you,” she said. “You’re probably going back to the hospital...”

“I’m done for the day,” he said. “I’m having a beer. I’d like to hear about the rest of the family. Any other new additions?”

The waitress took the bag from Jessie and quickly disappeared. In record time she returned with the tacos on a plate and the only kind of wine Jessie ever ordered in hand, all as if the waitress knew what she would like. She just smiled. “No other additions, unless you count Bess’s boyfriend, who she’s been keeping a secret from us for a year. But that’s certainly not devious or even secretive for Bess. It’s her minimal-literal mental capacity. She didn’t mention him and no one asked her if she had a boyfriend. Oh, and I guess there are more additions. After we—” She stopped herself before she said broke up. “I very recently found out that my father had a child he kept secret. My mother found out first. A woman who happens to be a nurse practitioner married to a doctor.”