Page 38 of Conflicted
Ruby rose to her feet and clutched Jewel’s hands. They were warm from the water she used to clean the counter, but even while enveloped in Ruby’s palms the cold was returning. At least, Jewel seemed to be eating better, now the perp was caught.
“So, if it’s not tonight’s visit, what has you so exhausted?”
“I had another therapy session with Bob this afternoon.” She gave Ruby’s hands a tender squeeze. “Now don’t get worried. Therapy is going well, but it’s draining. However, I can feel it working already.” She straightened her back. “I didn’t even panic when a display of cans collapsed at the grocery store today. Less than two weeks ago, it would have given me a conniption fit and today I barely flinched.”
Ruby used the back of her hand to swipe a strand of hair out of Jewel’s face. It wasn’t like momma to have less than perfect hair. “I didn’t know you had an appointment today.”
“That’s because I didn’t. Bob had an unexpected gap in his schedule, and he called me last night.” Again, Jewel tried a happy face and failed.
“All right,” Ruby glanced at the old-fashioned clock above the kitchen door. “You have about twenty minutes before Luke shows up. How about you make yourself pretty.” She forced the corners of her mouth upward.
“Oh dear,” Jewel’s hand flew self-consciously to her hair. “I’ve been so busy with baking, I forgot.” She rushed away.
Ruby waited a few heartbeats until she was sure Jewel was out of hearing range before she pulled her phone from her back pocket. Drumming the fingers of her free hand against her thigh, she waited for Bob to answer his phone.
“Ruby? Something wrong? Weren’t you meeting with your father?”
“Yes, yes and yes but I prefer to call him sperm donor or Luke – when I’m generous,” she shot back. “What’s wrong with momma?”
“Um, I don’t think I understand your question.” Bob’s voice was friendly, but Ruby didn’t miss the edge. Bob was dead serious about patient-client-privilege and didn’t take kindly to probing relatives.
“I’m worried how tired Jewel is. I was hoping she would get better now the mugger is behind bars.” Ruby leaned a shoulder against the big fridge and crossed her legs.
“Ah,” the amusement in his voice was clear even through the phone line, “and now you expect her mind to completely forget the episode.”
“Well, no, not...” Ruby trailed off and banged the back of her head against the sleek, metal door.
“Now I can’t discuss your mother’s treatment with you, but I can explain it in general terms,” Bob conceded.
“Okay.” He deserves more. “I would love for you to explain it to me.”
“Getting tired from therapy – any kind – is normal. You might be sitting or lying down, but during a session the client is doing all the hard work.”
Ruby couldn’t refrain from teasing him. “If your clients are working, then why are you getting paid?”
“You know, brat, I should tell Will and Nathan they should discipline you more.”
Ruby chuckled low and the tension in her belly eased.
“Or not,” Bob grumbled. “You’d enjoy it.”
“Yeah,” she replied with laughter in her voice, “I would.”
“All right, all right. So, therapy is hard work,” Bob continued his explanation. “With EMDR we’re training the brain to make new connections by going over a stressful situation over and over and mentally changing the outcome. Mind you, it’s more complicated than that and I can set you up with some articles about PTSD and treatment, but for now it’s probably enough.”
Ruby lifted a hand before she realized he wouldn’t see her gesture of surrender. “I’m sure you could, but just tell me what I need to know.”
Bob scoffed. “When it gets interesting, she bails.”
“Hel-lo,” she drawled, “me dumb tattoo artist, you clever therapist.”
“Do your men know you sell yourself short?”
“They’re not my men.”
Bob just hummed.
Whatever.
