Page 80 of Done with You

Until now, it was like Rayma had almost forgotten he was there. But she shook her head like she was trying to shake off a fly and faced him. “Jordan will pick you up here after he’s done.” Then she kissed Joy on her forehead, spun on her heel, and left.

“What do you take in your coffee?” Joy asked him, pouring boiling water from the kettle over the fresh coffee grounds in the carafe.

“Just black,” Aiden said, his bewilderment still front and center.

Joy nodded. “Would you like to sit in here? The living room? Or we can go to my office. I’m flexible.”

“Uh … sorry, it’s very nice to finally meet you, but what am I doing here?”

Joy chuckled to herself, which made the lines beside her eyes crinkle. She was a very nice-looking woman who took care of herself. Petite and even though she was probably pushing seventy, given the ages of her sons, she didn’t look it. Also, how such a tiny woman had managed to raise such behemoths as her sons boggled Aiden’s mind. They couldn’t have been small babies. “Ah, so this was an ambush, then?” she finally asked, taking a mug down from the cupboard. She already had one down for herself. She stirred the grounds in the carafe, then put on the press, and pushed down.

“I think so. But what is this, exactly?”

“Well, Rayma called me early this morning and asked if I had room for a therapy session. I thought it was for her at first, to discuss last-minute concerns or issues regarding the wedding and her parents, which is totally understandable.” Was it? Why was it understandable? What did her parents do to her? “But it was for you.”

Aiden’s jaw dropped.

“I heard about last night,” Joy said. “Sounds like things are pretty messy.”

He was there for therapy?

His head swiveled in the direction of the front door, but Rayma and Grant had already left. Did Jordan know about this? Was it his idea?

She poured the coffee from the French press into both mugs, added a splash of almond milk for herself, then passed his mug to him. “Let’s go sit in the living room. I can turn on the fireplace.”

Struck dumb, he followed her. She flicked on the electric fireplace, then took a seat in a comfortable-looking recliner, indicating he should find a spot on the couch or love seat.

“I … I’m sorry … Joy, but I don’t know if this is appropriate. I don’t know you.”

“And you’re well acquainted with your other therapists?”

He swallowed. “Well … no. I actually haven’t started seeing my therapist yet. I was supposed to—” He stopped himself and narrowed his gaze at her. “How much do you know?”

“Whatever was said in the bus last night.”

He nodded and dropped his focus to his lap. “Right. So you know about Oona and me.”

“Yes.”

He huffed out a deep breath. “And you think I’m a total dick, too?”

Joy shrugged. “Have I called you a total dick?”

“Well, no.”

“Then I don’t think you’re a total dick. If I thought you were a total dick, then I’d say it to your face.”

No wonder Rayma and Joy got along so well. It was like talking to Rayma all grown up with a silver ballerina bun.

Joy sipped her coffee. “I’m just here if you want to talk.”

Did he want to talk?

He knew he needed to talk, but he sure as hell didn’t want to. Not about the trauma that triggered him. That made him lash out at drunk drivers and have no mercy. He’d tried so hard to bury that day. To bury that part of his life and the aftermath of what happened. But no matter how much dirt he piled onto it, it just kept eroding away at him. Just kept rising to the surface and ruling his life. His job.

Then a lightbulb went on in his head. “Jordan told me you counsel him, right?”

Joy slowly nodded. “I do.”

---