Couple's Therapy

CHAPTER THREE

Reba pulled up to Dr. Baker's office fifteen minutes early, which left her with plenty of time to chew the skin off her thumb while she waited. She'd tried flipping through a magazine but soon realized she'd been stuck on the same page without reading a single word.

"Earth to Reba,"

She blinked and looked up to see him standing right in front of her. She'd been so deep in spiralling thoughts that she hadn't even noticed when the previous patient had walked right past her and out the door.

"Dr. Baker, hi! How long have you been standin' there?"

He smiled softly, "Long enough," he motioned toward his office. "After you,"

She heard him shut the door behind them, but she found herself frozen, clutching her purse.

"Reba?" he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Why don't you have a seat?"

She reluctantly sat on the edge of the couch as far away from his armchair as she could and set her purse on her lap.

He took his place across from her. "So," he began.

"So," she said, dragging the word out far too long in her nervousness.

"How are you?" he asked.

She chewed the inside of her cheek and fingered an errant thread on her purse. "Fine."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

She met his eyes and finally let her shoulders slump. "No," she sighed as she moved her purse to the floor and readjusted to fold one leg beneath her. "I'm not fine."

He nodded and set his notepad and pencil down on the side table. "Understandable; what happened here yesterday couldn't have been easy for you."

She laughed shortly. "That's the understatement of the year," she looked down at her hands. "Alright, get on with it. Shrink me. Do your worst, I can take it."

He laughed, "That's how you want to play this?"

She shrugged, "Why not? I'm here, aren't I?"

He parted his hands with a shrug of his own, "Well, let's start with what happened after you left."

She ran her tongue across her teeth. "I sat in my car for a while," she began.

"In the parking lot?" he asked.

She nodded absently, "And I picked up a couple bottles of wine from that place around the corner."

"Go on,"

"Then I dug some paperwork out of the garage to keep myself busy," she continued. "And that's when you called."

He nodded, "What happened after?"

She looked down at her hands, "I had the house to myself, so I ran a bath and drank the wine," she said slowly.

Dr. Baker leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, "Is that something you do often?"

She looked up, her eyes guarded, "Am I an alcoholic? No," she clarified. "Do I sometimes wind down in the evenin' with a few glasses of wine? Yes."

"That's perfectly fine," he chuckled.

She brought her knee up in front of her and picked at the denim stitching. "Then I cried for hours," she said softly.

Dr. Baker was quiet for a moment, studying her as she stared blankly at the rug. "Reba, can I ask you something?"

She looked up, "That is part of your job, isn't it?"

"How often do you process emotions?"

"Other than anger?"