Page 219 of Ice Darling
“Mr. Renthrow, I assure you that Gordie’s made great strides. This is a setback, not a reflection of her journey.”
“How long is this journey going to be? She’s supposed to be carefree and happy. She’s supposed to be okay.” I exhale sharply. “We can stop her grandma from leaving this time, but we can’t control when our last day on Earth will be. What if Gordie loses someone close to her and can’t recover? What am I supposed to do if she completely shatters then?”
Through the window, I see Cordelia zooming down the street on the e-bike I bought. The bike is quieter than her Harley, or I would have heard her coming a long time ago.
“I understand you’re feeling frustrated. Like I said, Gordie’s scheduled to see me today. When she comes back to herself, she and I can meet, and we can get to the bottom of what triggered this episode.”
I hang up on the therapist and jog to open the door for Cordelia. She blasts through, her eyes sweeping the room until they land on Gordie under the table.
I catch the helmet that she tosses carelessly over her shoulder and watch as she shoots to her knees in front of my daughter.
“Gordie, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What happened?” Cordelia coos.
Gordie shakes her head and throws herself into Cordelia’s arms.
I sigh in relief. Since it’s been so long since her last episode, I worried that the symptoms would linger even after Cordelia showed up.
“It’s okay.” Cordelia soothes Gordie, running her hand down her head and back. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
I meet my girlfriend’s eyes and gesture to the car.
Cordelia nods slightly.
Together, we get Gordie settled in the backseat, and I speed out of Lucky Falls to the big-city hospital where my daughter gets her therapy treatments.
As promised, Mrs. Raina sees Gordie as soon as we set foot into the child psychology center, and I wait outside on pins and needles.
Cordelia slips her hand into mine, and I hold on to her for dear life as I wait for the therapist to come out.
To my surprise, the door opens less than five minutes after Gordie went in.
“Mr. Renthrow, can I see you?” Mrs. Raina crooks two fingers in a come-here gesture. Then her eyes land on Cordelia, and she pauses, eyes narrowing. “Are you, by chance, the woman with the motorcycle?”
Cordelia grips the edge of her leather jacket nervously. “I-I am.”
“You can come in too,” the therapist says.
“Me?” Cordelia points to herself. Then she swings around and sets those wide, doe-brown eyes in my direction. “Are you sure?”
I encourage her with a nod and press my fingers to the small of her back, guiding her into the office. Gordie is sitting at the coloring table, nestled close to the large windows. She’s hanging her head guiltily.
“You can sit there,” Mrs. Raina directs, pointing to a large sofa. Cordelia sits and glances nervously between Gordie and the therapist.
I sit beside Cordelia and rest my arm over her shoulder, giving her a slight hug of comfort.
Mrs. Raina smiles across the room. “Gordie, can you come here and tell your dad what you just told me?”
Gordie’s sneakers thump on the ground as she trudges to the therapist and stands in front of us.
I lean forward, and so does Cordelia.
“Go on,” Mrs. Raina encourages in a gentle voice. “Tell them why you went under the table.”
Gordie pouts. “Because I wanted to hang with Delia instead of going to therapy.”
Mrs. Raina glances over at me, her lips pressed together as if to stop her laughter.
I blink slowly because the words don’t compute. “W-what do you mean?”
