One Last Miracle [complete]

IX

IX

three months, seven days...

Walking in isn't as awkward as the first time.

Catherine doesn't even look up from where she's scribbling something on paper. She gives no inclination she's even noticed me. Nevertheless, I know she has and she's just waiting for me to make the first move.

This time, I'm not in a bulky wheelchair, which I'm grateful for. So, I walk to one of the plush seats that sit in front of the desk, taking a seat, all while dumping my bag on the carpet at my feet. The denim of my jeans itches a little as I get settled, but I ignore it, just watching Catherine.

As a nervous habit, I tap my foot on the ground. Closed-in shoes aren't too comfortable, but my blue High Tops give me enough breathing room. While I wait for her, I look around the room. It's exactly the same, though the desk is more cluttered with paperwork. There's also a few empty chocolate wrappers towards the edge of the desk.

I don't pay attention to the clock on the wall, but I hear it ticking as time drags on.

Finally, Catherine looks up, as put-together as before. But, the way she keeps tapping her pen on the desk gives away her agitation. "Sorry," she says, smiling apologetically. "I didn't mean to make you wait. But, the receptionist filed all my appointments wrong so now I have to make sense of it all."

I don't know what to say, but I force myself to respond nonetheless. "Oh. I'm not taking someone else's am I?"

She shakes her head with a sigh. "No. You booked this two weeks ago." She sinks back in her chair. "But, let's forget about this. I can deal with it later. You're here now and that's what I need to focus on."

"Uh, I can reschedule if you want," I offer, already starting to stand.

She holds up a hand. "No, you don't have to. I need a break from this anyway. I thought my headache was bad this morning. Now I feel like my head is going to explode."

Wordlessly, I sit.

She smiles, but it's forced. "Okay, this session is going to run differently. Last one was your chance to invade my life. This time, it's my turn to invade yours. You don't have to answer if you don't want to. But, really, you should. It'll make both our lives easier."

I get comfortable, because I know the next hour will be longest of my life. "I'll answer them. You already know all my problems anyway, so there's not much to share."

"You'd be surprised." She laughs quietly. "I've had someone who sat in silence for a whole hour because he didn't want to be here."

"I won't do that," I say.

She nods, like she's not surprised. "Thank you, Alyson. Now, do you have a notebook with you?"

Without bothering to answer, I reach into my small carry bag, searching through. There's not a lot inside it, but without visual help it takes me a second to find the small A3 notebook. It's nothing flash, just one I'd picked up at the supermarket years ago.

I hand it over, careful to make sure the blue cover doesn't slip off. While it's not broken, it is old and could fall to pieces any second. I'd considered buying a brand new one, but the blue one has never been used so it's technically new too.