Page 20 of Hesi-Dating
I wanted to talk about it, but Nosh saved me. Didn't he? I couldn't clearly remember what happened other than the blood. Afterward, Nosh behaved as if he owned me. We were never in the same home again, but I saw him at school. Sometimes he'd visit after school. Nosh's little brother and sister moved to the next foster home with me since we were the same age. Jamal, Nosh's brother, died a year later protecting Amber during a convenience store robbery. His sister died of heart disease a year after that. We siblings were a complicated lot.
"All this started over the guy you went on that date with a few weeks ago? Bruno said he's the sheriff. Do you like him? As inlike-like?"
"Ilike-like him. He's older. Late thirties. Never been out with someone that much older, but he's a different breed than anyone else I dated. He just got divorced and he's confused." I twisted to make eye contact. "He's a good person at heart, but not a saint."
"Sounds like he's hurting, which is your type. You like the wounded ones."
"When we went out, I didn't want to sleep with him. I wanted more. So, I did nothing."
"Really? Nothing? Not even a kiss? That's not like you. You really aren't okay."
"I'm sorting it out."
"Doessorting it outinvolve seeing him again?"
"No. He could be a good friend, though."
"I'm calling bullshit on you. Youlike-like him. I can't remember the last time you actually liked one of your dates."
"I don't want him to be in danger. I hope Nosh wouldn't be psychotic enough to go after the sheriff, but you know Nosh."
"You're walking a dangerous line, Joley. You know I'll walk it with you, but fighting Nosh might get us killed."
ChapterEight
SETH
"You're chipper this morning, all things considered," Dr. Kidd said as she recrossed her legs. Her modest sundress with gaudy purple and teal flowers seemed more appropriate for Sunday school than a professional therapy session. I distrusted the therapist I'd been required to visit twice a month ever since the mass shooting at a church seven months ago. She made me feel judged.
Her comment seemed rhetorical. I stayed silent.
It's fake chipper for you.
"What's going on today to put you in a great mood?" She cocked her head, which shifted her bob-cut, dyed auburn hair. The woman was perceptive, but not good at getting me to talk about tough topics.
Several years ago, we instituted a policy for any officer involved in a "critical incident" mandating the person attend therapy until the therapist deemed the officer over the event. The therapist could also pull the officer from duty if she felt he wasn't clear minded enough to perform his job. With the church shooting and then a new critical incident happening almost weekly for months, like the loss of Jake, I figured I'd be stuck in therapy forever. Every time I was certain to be cleared and be free of this 7 a.m. annoyance something new happened.
I didn't answer fast enough, so she asked, "Is there something new in your life?"
"Sure. I took up pottery," I said sarcastically. "Might put a kiln in my back closet, but I worry my dog might die from the fumes."
"Sarcasm doesn't get us anywhere." She frowned and wrote something down in her notebook on the table next to her. "You do need to find a hobby. Something that has nothing to do with work. We talked about this. Are you serious about pottery?"
"No."
"You spend too much time working. It's keeping you from life outside work. There has to be some balance."
I thought about the locked door in my barn, the tack room where I'd stored all of Dad's old reining stuff. We'd done so many shows together since I was little, only stopping about six years ago when his back wouldn't let him ride anymore. Then his horse injured his pastern and was never sound enough again. We'd talked about training a new horse during Dad's chemotherapy, but he never recovered. Before he died, he'd encouraged me to get back into it again. I told myselfsomeday… I still couldn't open the door and see all those things my dad had loved. I wasn't ready.
She cradled her chin with a hand. "Something positive happened to you, which is interesting, considering recent events with the deputy's death and you finalizing your divorce."
That comment right there was confirmation she sucked at this. Not for the first time I reviewed in my head the process I'd have to wade through to get assigned a new therapist. It'd be a pain in the ass when all I wanted was to be cleared. Perhaps, it was worth the annoyance.
Whatever good vibes I'd felt coming off last night with Joley died a swift death, realizing I shouldn't be wrapped up in myself. I owed it to Jake to be respectful and mourn. "Jake was a good man who left behind a family that doesn't deserve to be without him."
"Sounds like a new incident we'll need to discuss." She wrote something down. "What else aside from a new line-of-duty death in the department happened?" She tapped her pen on her notebook. "Positive is good, Seth."
"I went on a date like you suggested."I skipped telling you at our last session.
