Like Gravity(80)
“I’ve dreamed about the foster home and the boy three nights this week,” I continued. “And I think you’re right about them being triggered memories – there’s no way my dreams would be that specific if they hadn’t actually happened to me at some point. So now I guess all I have to do is find their trigger.”
“I don’t believe it’s something you should necessarily be actively searching for. When your mind is ready, you may simply remember naturally,” Dr. Angelini shrugged delicately. “And as I’ve said before, there’s no exact science to how our memories work, Brooklyn. My advice would be to live your life and not dwell too much in the past. It sounds like, for the first time in a long while, you’re really enjoying just being in your present.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, smiling wistfully as I thought of Finn. “I finally have something that makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning.”
Our time was officially up, and we’d barely even scratched the surface of everything that had been going on in my soap opera of a life. Dr. Angelini stood and ushered me to the door, reaching out at the last second to press a business card into my hand.
“This has my personal cell number on it. I don’t usually give it out to patients,” she explained. “But I want you to know that I’m always here if you need me, Brooklyn – even if it isn’t for a scheduled session.”
It was clear that her concern for my welfare extended beyond that of a normal doctor-patient relationship, and her maternal gesture made my heart ache. I wondered whether Dr. Angelini had kids and a family of her own; she didn’t wear a wedding ring, so I assumed she wasn’t married, and she didn’t exactly give off a motherly vibe. I was suddenly struck by the thought that she might be a little bit lonely too.
Somehow, that endeared her to me further.
Though I was definitely not a hugger – and I got the sense that Dr. Angelini wasn’t either – I tentatively wrapped my arms around her petite frame and lightly embraced her. She startled at first but recovered quickly, her arms coming up to squeeze me equally hesitantly. After what was perhaps the most awkward hug in the history of mankind, I detached and took a hasty step out of her space.
Clearing my throat, I did my best to dismiss the uncharacteristic display of affection I’d just initiated as no big deal. “Well, thanks doc. I can’t make any promises that your number won’t end up in an newspaper ad for a phonesex hotline, though,” I teased.
“Well, Brooklyn,” she grinned the most genuine smile I’d ever seen from her, pushing me out into the hallway. “I suppose if that happens, I can’t promise that I won’t recommend you for a lifetime of institutionalization in one of Virginia’s finest state asylums.”
I laughed as I walked down the hall, turning to toss a goodbye over my shoulder. “See you next week, doc.”
“Until then, Brooklyn,” she returned, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
Maybe it was sad, because I was paying her and all, but I was pretty sure my shrink was one of the best friends I’d ever had.
Or, maybe I was crazy after all.
Chapter Sixteen
Blindsided
A week passed quietly, and I had the luxury of acting like I was a normal college student for a brief span of time. There were no more attacks, mysterious deliveries, or asthmatic phone calls. I went to my classes every day, which remarkably seemed only to be growing more boring and unchallenging as the semester progressed and my professors lost any of their prior academic verve. I completed my homework each night, which took me an hour at most, and occasionally I pulled out my textbooks and forced myself to study until my eyes were drifting closed; memorizing the names and details of every major Supreme Court case over the last five decades is enough to put anyone to sleep. Mostly, though, I just tried to take Dr. Angelini’s advice by enjoying the blissful ease of living in the present.
In time, my bruises faded, then disappeared completely. The scrapes took longer, but each day Finn helped me apply antiseptic and change their bandages; he was also a firm believer that his kiss-it-better approach had real healing properties, and he’d insist on running his mouth over each of my injuries at least once a day.
I think it actually had more to do with him getting me naked, but I wasn’t exactly complaining.
The police had completely ruled out Gordon’s involvement in my attack, leaving me slightly unsettled and more than a little confused about the identity of my mystery attacker. I’d been so ready to believe it was him – to tie a neat little bow around the case and remove all of the unease that came with knowing the person who’d tried to rape – or maybe even kill – me that night was still walking around, a free man.
Apparently, Gordon had been occupied – quite publically – at the exact time I was battling for my life in the alleyway, with his tongue stuck down the throat of a cheerleader in full view of numerous Styx patrons. There was no way it could have been him, unless he had a super power that allowed him to be in two places at once.
Somehow, I doubted that was the case.
Since the attack, a constant air of unsettlement had lingered around me, and I was left with the distinct feeling that I wasn’t a good victim – not that there was anything good about being a victim, but rather that I wasn’t processing my trauma in the normal, healthy way. I thought a lot about what Dr. Angelini had told me, and was forced to accept the fact that I was probably walking through life more than a little numb from everything I’d experienced in my relatively short twenty – nearly twenty one – years on the planet.