Ma Chérie (Beverly Marsh x Fem!Reader) (On Hold)

Chapter 13: Fifty Dollars

January 7th, 1989

Your P.O.V

*Ring ring* The phone rings for like the twentieth time this week. It's probably Addison, again, so I let it ring. Since Addison has called so much, I made the voicemail say: "This is the Michaud household, if you're Mike, I am still going to your house on Saturday, Beverly, if I don't answer, you can just come over, and if you're Addison, you can fuck off. Leave a message after the tone!"

The phone clicks, and I know that he hung up. I hope he'll stop calling, because I don't answer the phone in case it's him. As I lay down, I think of all the school I'm missing, and the rehearsals. Well, I'm okay about missing some rehearsals, because of Addison. I turn over, and look out my window. I see the sunset, and the trees, some of them growing their baby leaves after the winter.

Eddie has been visiting me fairly often, I don't know why, I'm not really his friend, and I hate his friend, Tozier. Still, it's nice to have someone who knows how to treat the flu at my house. I still need to call Dr. Smith, and talk to Mom about it. I'll do it when Mom comes in.

Since I've been essentially stuck in bed, because if I move, I feel like I'm going to throw up, I've learned how to crochet. I know it's an old person thing, but it's very soothing. My bag of yarn is by my bed, so I just reach down and grab it. Right now, I'm working on a blanket for myself.

I've almost completed one row of my blanket, when Mom walks in. She gets my bowl, and is about to start walking out. "Mom?"

"Yes Y/n?" She always talks sweetly when we're sick.

"Dr. Greaver gave me the number for a therapist, because I've been having trouble sleeping."

"Why are you having trouble sleeping?"

"Because Eze-Ezek-Ezekiel has been in my dreams recently." I start crying.

"Ezekiel? But it's been years, why now?"

"I don't know," I try to change the topic. "But can I call the therapist? Her name is Dr. Smith."

"Good, it's a woman. You don't see many of those around, especially in a place like Derry. Sure, you can call." She hands me the phone, and I dial the number on the card.

"Dr. Smith's office, this is her secretary speaking. May I help you?"

"I was wondering how much a session costs? And I would like to be able to speak to Dr. Smith personally if possible."

"Each hour-long session costs fifty dollars, and Dr. Smith is currently doing a session, but if you give me your number, I can have her call you back."

"Okay, my number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. Thank you for answering." I hang up, and tell Mom how much a session is. "It's fifty dollars per session, and we only have to go once a week."

She mumbles to herself, but I can still hear some words. "Fifty dollars? Wit mmmm and mmmm leaving, twont be too bad." She turns back to me. "I think we can do that."

"Thank you!" I ignore what she was mumbling, because it was obviously something private. I do wonder who's leaving though.

God, I wonder what a therapist is like? I hope it helps with my dreams, scratch that, nightmares.

Mom leaves, and Ben comes in. I haven't seen Ben in ages, so I'm excited. "Ben! Sorry if I don't hug you, but I'm sick. I'm still glad to see you!"

"Hey, I brought some books on architecture to read." He grabs the books from out of his bag, and lays them on the table. He brought books on Grecian and Roman architecture, because I told him they were my favorite.