Page 27 of Meet Me at Christmas
Stella hit the button for the elevator just as the old man with the walker toddled up next to her.
“Mr. Ferguson, right?” she asked, already feeling brighter just from being in his presence.
“That’s right. And you’re the lovely lady I met the other day. How lucky to get to see you twice.”
She grinned despite herself. “Why is seeing me lucky?”
He shifted against the handles of his walker and squinted at her as if he could see something she couldn’t. “You have a way about you that tells me there’s more to you than what I see on the surface.”
The reality of her struggles caused heat to rush through her cheeks. “What do you mean?”
The elevator pinged and the doors opened. Stella stepped in and put her arm across the opening to keep the doors from shutting as Mr. Ferguson entered in measured steps.
“I think you’re special,” he said with a grunt as he pushed his walker over the small lip between the floor and the elevator.
“Special? How so?”
The doors swished shut and she pressed the button for Henry’s floor before gesturing to ask which floor he needed.
He waved her off, acknowledging that he was headed to the same floor. “I see enormous potential. More than you probably see yet.”
The old man was clearly delusional. She doubted very seriously that she radiated some sort of potential only he could see.
“Are you a clairvoyant or something?” she teased.
Mr. Ferguson laughed, his attention on the floor numbers as they lit up on the digital monitor above the doors. “When you get to be my age, you just notice things. I see untapped potential in people, and I know when they’re living the life they’re meant to live. It’s present in their eyes and the shape of their smile.”
She nodded, still skeptical of the old man. “Am I living the life I’m meant to live?”
He pursed his lips, knowingly. “Not yet.” He gave her a wink.
The doors opened and he pushed the walker into the therapy wing and went on his way. She’d chalked him up as a senile old man, but his words lingered.
Henry was already on the sofa when Stella entered, his shoulders tight and that straight face he made already set. The interest in his eyes as he watched her walk over unnerved her. With a steadying breath, she kept her concentration on the unpacking of her computer and starting it. But feeling the weight of his stare, she peeked over the laptop at him.
“Are you gonna give me the chance to see what you’re typing about me?”
“I don’t mind sharing what I type. It’s nothing you won’t be able to read later.Afteryour therapy maybe.” She broke eye contact and focused again on her screen, pulling up the document where she’d been taking notes. In her peripheral vision, Henry leaned back, his jaw tight, his arms crossed. To her dismay, she read her comment from yesterday that was now in Henry’s view:Gonna be a fun morning.
Would today be any better?
“All right,” Ms. Weixel said, coming in and sitting in the chair opposite Henry. “Let’s get right to it, shall we?”
Henry squared his shoulders.
“Tell me one thing that happened since we met yesterday that you could say was positive.”
He sat, motionless.
Stella typed.Request: produce one positive instance since yesterday’s session. Response: None.
He pressed his lips into a straight line, tensing as she typed.
“It doesn’t have to be anything grand, remember?” the therapist continued.
Not wanting to type anything else to upset him and make this take any longer, Stella’s hands stilled on the keyboard, and she kept her face clear of any emotion, trying to blend in to the surroundings, something she’d become great at over the years.
He turned his head just slightly to get a view of her, his face softening a little. His chest filled with air, but he still didn’t answer.
