Maia

19

Word Count: 1515

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MAIA'S POV

"Maia, this is Dr. Schimr. We're just going to have a quick chat with her, okay?" Alessandro said, his voice calm as we settled into the plush chairs in her expansive office. The room was bright and inviting, adorned with colourful displays of nutritious meals artfully arranged on the side. The scent of fresh fruit lingered in the air, creating an atmosphere of health and well-being. Wiremu, seated to Al's left, appeared relaxed yet attentive. He had mentioned that today we would be meeting with a dietitian to develop a plan, and I felt a mix of fear and anticipation.

I nod at the woman sitting across from me, who greets me with a warm smile that instantly puts me at ease. She opens her notepad and clicks her pen, the soft sound breaking the slight tension in the air. "So, Maia," she begins, looking me in the eyes to establish a connection, "why don't you tell me a little about yourself? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?" Her encouraging tone and gentle demeanour make me feel comfortable as she prepares to move into the more serious aspects of our conversation.

"There's not really much to tell about me," I reply with a shrug, nervously fidgeting with the hem of my long-sleeved shirt. Dr. Schimr watches me intently, her nod indicating that she's listening. "I just read and watch movies," I add, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Ah, yes, I love reading, too," she responds, a warm smile spreading across her face as she seems to connect with me over this shared interest.

"Now, Maia, can you tell me what brings you here today?" she asks, her tone gentle and inviting. I pause for a moment, contemplating why I'm really here. I had assumed my brothers had already shared their concerns with her, but maybe she wants me to say them myself—to voice the truths I've been grappling with and face them head-on. The thought sends a flutter of anxiety through me. I don't have an eating disorder, do I?

"My brothers were really worried about my eating habits, so they thought it would be best for me to talk to you. It's just that I don't eat enough," I whisper the last part, my voice trembling with fear and nervousness. As I speak, I can feel my heart racing. She looks at me reassuringly, nodding gently while offering an encouraging smile that lights up her eyes. Her gaze seems to say that everything will be okay.

I watched intently as she scribbled down my response, her brow furrowed in concentration. She then looked up at me, her expression gentle and inquisitive. "May I ask what prompts that feeling? Do you experience discomfort after eating specific foods, or is it more related to the texture of what you eat?" Her voice was soft, laced with genuine concern.

I nervously bite the inside of my cheek, lost in thought as I try to unravel the reasons behind my feelings. In the beginning, my hunger stemmed from the sparse meals provided by Jacob and Mama, leaving me constantly craving more. But when I finally arrived at my brother's home, they greeted me with an abundance of food. Despite the generous offerings, I found that after just a few bites, I felt uncomfortably full, as if my stomach had shrunk in response to my past deprivation. The irony of it all weighed heavily on my mind. When Rawiri called me fat, it really struck a chord and I stopped once again.

The doctor gazes at me while both of my brothers watch me closely, their expressions a mix of concern and apprehension. They are all waiting for my response, but I dread revealing the truth about Rawiri, Mama, and Jacob. It feels like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest, and I'm terrified that they will react with anger or disappointment.

With my mind racing, I avert my gaze to the floor, fixating on the scuffed toes of my shoes as I gather my thoughts. Finally, I manage to speak, my voice barely above a whisper, "I feel full after taking a few bites." I can sense their disappointment, but I'm not ready to share the deeper struggles that lie beneath my simple statement.

I can hear the rhythmic scribbles of the pen against the paper, each stroke punctuating the silence of the room. Dr. Schimr looked up from her notes, studying me. "Your brothers mentioned earlier that you were living with your mother before this. I'm wondering if that situation caused any challenges for you back then as well," she inquired.

I remained silent, acutely aware of her gaze shifting between me and my brothers as I deliberately avoided answering her question. The tension in the room was palpable, and I felt a mix of emotions swirling inside me. After a moment, she hummed thoughtfully, breaking the silence. "Okay, Maia," she said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "I think we can work together to create a meal plan for today. It's important that we focus on what you need. And I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit in a week to see how you're doing, if that sounds good to you, okay?" Her words were warm, inviting me to engage without pressure.

I nod in understanding as she types some notes on the computer in front of her, the sound of the keys echoing softly in the room. She looks up and meets my gaze, her expression thoughtful. "For now, I believe it's best to focus on a liquid diet. This approach will help ensure that you receive the essential nutrients your body needs while allowing your digestive system to gradually adjust. We want to ease you back into eating without overwhelming you. Think of things like smoothies, broths, or blended soups - something easy on the stomach." she explains, her voice calm and reassuring.

She pauses for a moment, glancing up at me to ensure I'm following along. "In addition, I recommend incorporating light snacks throughout the day. This way, you'll still be nourishing yourself without putting too much strain on your body while it's still recovering," she adds, her fingers deftly navigating the keyboard as she begins to print out some helpful guidelines and resources for me.

I nod in acknowledgment as Wiremu and Alessandro rise from their seats. Alessandro approaches her and extends his hand for a handshake. I watch briefly before turning to follow Wiremu out of the room.

Alessandro remains inside, still engaged in conversation. Meanwhile, Wiremu and I make our way to the front desk, where a friendly receptionist awaits. My mind is focused elsewhere as Wiremu settles the bill and schedules an appointment for the following week.

ALESSANDRO'S POV

"Thank you, Dr. Schimr," I say firmly, trying to maintain control of my emotions. She gives me a nod and gestures for me to take the chair where Maia had just been sitting, a place still slightly warm from her presence.

"Mr. Luciano," she begins, her tone serious and filled with concern, "I need to talk to you about Maia. I'm genuinely worried about her well-being. I believe she may be struggling with an eating disorder, and I suspect that it wasn't a decision she made willingly." Her words hang in the air, heavy with gravity. I nod, absorbing the weight of what she is saying.

"And what do you suggest we do to address this issue?" I ask, wanting to understand the next steps we could take.

She offers a gentle smile, attempting to ease the tension in the room. "I think the first step would be to arrange for her to see a therapist. It's crucial to help her open up and express what she's going through. A professional can guide her, and hopefully, we can get her to confront the full reality of her situation." Dr. Schimr looks at me with earnestness, emphasizing the importance of honesty in this process. I nodded.

"I would like to schedule weekly check-ups to closely monitor her weight gain and evaluate how effectively the new diet is impacting her health. It's important for us to track her progress in detail, as this will give us a clearer understanding of how she's adjusting. Ideally, if everything goes well, we can consider transitioning her back to a normal diet in the near future. However, only time will reveal how successful this new approach has been," Dr. Schimr replied thoughtfully.

I give a slight nod, acknowledging Dr. Schimr's presence. "Thank you, Dr. Schimr. If that's everything for now, I think I'll be on my way," I say, my voice steady. She returns the gesture with a nod.

As I step out of the office and into the hallway, I feel a sense of determination wash over me. I pull out my phone, the light illuminating the screen, and start thinking about how I can help Maia. Finding her a therapist tonight is a priority. I messaged the cook to inform them of Maia's new diet, ensuring everything is ready for when we get home.