Bringing the Light

26. Allow me, Dr. Freud

I walked into the coffee shop and looked around. It was busy but I saw who I was there to meet sitting in the back corner. I walked over to him and he stood as I approached.  I wrapped him in a hug as he returned the gesture.

"Brian," I said. "I can't believe after all these years!"

"I was just as shocked to see you," he grinned.

"So, tell me about you. What happened after the Thompsons had to let us go?"

"I wound up in another foster home. It wasn't too bad but it was nothing like the Thompsons. I probably would have hated the Thompsons if that second home had been my first. It was not as... nice.

I was there for a couple of months and then my social worker moved me to another home which was marginally better. We really lucked out with the Thompsons."

"As a first home? Yeah," I agreed.

"But you said your mom cleaned up her act. How long was that?"

"I was in foster care for two and a half years.  When she dumped her husband and cleaned herself up, other than both of us going to counseling, she really turned herself around. When I was 18, she apologized for my foster care years and explained to me where she'd gone wrong in her life that we ended up in that situation. She explained a lot of things that at six I should not have known. It answered a lot of questions I'd had growing up. But I was happy she worked to get me back. She wasn't perfect and she still struggled a lot, but she found herself a really good husband and he was a really good stepdad."

"I'm really happy to hear that," I smiled.

A server came by to take our orders. I ordered a latte and a croissant. Brian ordered a coffee and a pastry.

"I worked really hard in school and was even in a band for a while in high school," he laughed. "We probably could have done okay. But you know, life sometimes gets in the way of those things. But I've enjoyed the entertainment industry and so I wound up in law and decided I wanted to do entertainment and contract law. I'm working with a pretty interesting guy right now. Really well known in the entertainment law industry. Cut throat for his clients. Very private about his private life."

I shrugged. People are strange.

"And that's pretty much my life," Brian said. "How about you?"

"Well," I drew in a breath. "Not quite as lucky throughout my teenage years but I did wind up in a very good place."

I sat back.

"The day we left the Thompsons, I went to the Boys' Home because apparently there was no place for me in a foster home. It was supposed to be temporary, but I was there for several months. I was in and out of foster homes. Six in total I think, with stints in the Boys' Home in between. My longest stay was a year and a bit," I said. "Then I wound up with the Fosters.  Besides the Thompsons, they're the best I ever lived with. My foster dad, well, they adopted me. So my dad, really helped me turn myself around. I was so angry and headed down the same path were always warned about.

When I was a freshman in high school, my birth mom died in prison. I never saw her after I was taken from her."

"Never? Not once? You went to her funeral though, didn't you?"

I shook my head.

"I found out she'd died about a week after she had died. I'm not even sure where she's buried to be honest."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Brian said.

"I was really angry about that for a very long time. But my parents helped me through it all. Truly, they were amazing."

"Were?" Brian asked.

"For starters, they adopted me at sixteen," I said.

"Wow!" Brian exclaimed. I nodded.

"My dad, David, died in my third year at UCLA," I said.

"UCLA? Nice!" Brian said. "How'd you swing that?"

"I got a full-ride baseball scholarship to UCLA. And a couple academic ones, as well."

"I remember your grades were insane. You always complained of being bored but your grades sure showed you knew what you were doing."

I shrugged. I worked hard, I studied hard and I'm smart. I'm not being self-aggrandizing. I don't know my IQ, but I do know enough that I know some of what I know I just... know. I read a lot and learned a lot. I just knew how to study, I guess. And I always wanted to learn. Even now, I was constantly looking up new theories and treatment ideas.

"So, your dad died. I'm sorry, by the way. Then what?"

"Well, my mom is amazing. My brother and sister were still home, so she had them to take care of while I was away at school. She absolutely refused to let me drop out or transfer to OSU or somewhere closer to home. She said I was lucky to have the opportunities I had and she was not going to let me throw them away when she was a capable adult with two teenagers who could help out at home."

"I guess she's got a point?" Brian said. I smiled.

"Yeah. My mom is one strong lady! You don't mess with Amanda Foster."

Brian laughed.

"After UCLA, where I was pre-med, I went to Harvard."

"Harvard!?" Brian said, whistling.

"I worked hard to get where I am. Nothing was handed to me. I mean, I lucked out with scholarships but I worked for those."

"I have no doubt. I'm impressed. You really broke through the stereotype of foster kids," Brian smiled. I did too.

"And now I'm a psychologist at Nationwide Children's Hospital."

"Amazing. When I asked your name you said it was Stephen Freud. Did you take your parents' name?"

"Kind of. After my dad died, I changed my first name to David in honour of him. He saved me. Him and my mom. But he was the one who got me to open up, who got me back into baseball and who showed me I was worthy of the love I'd always craved from my birth mother. I found out that Freud wasn't her last name. She just gave it to me. And I liked it. It's a good conversation starter sometimes. But I wanted to honour my dad. So, with my mom's permission, I changed it."

"That's really cool," Brian said.

"What about you?" I asked. "Where did you study?" I asked.

"I went to OSU for my undergrad and Columbus for law school." 

"Amazing," I said.

We continued talking over coffee. Catching up. Brian was engaged and said his fiancée was in finance. He was happy. He thanked me for protecting him as a kid.

"I never forgot you waiting after school to walk me home so the older kids wouldn't bully me."

"You were little," I said. "And I like you. You weren't a pill."

"Gee. Thanks," he laughed.

It was an enjoyable afternoon. Eventually he had to get home and I had to get to the hospital as I was on call.

We agreed to keep in touch.