May I (Lie To Me) | ✔

For Her - Part I

"Sam." Emily greeted as she answered the back door. "What are you doing here? We weren't supposed to meet for any lab stuff that I know of."

"I know this could be out of line, since we're just kind of lab partners. After you told me that your dad was having surgery, I kept wondering about it and thought I would stop by to see how he was doing."

"It's been a little crazy around here." Loosening her grip on the door, Sophie walked by. "He's doing well. Actually, he's sleeping in the other room."

"And you're kid sitting too. Impressive."

They both looked over at Sophie, who was pulling on the edge of her shirt. "I offered to watch her while her mom went to do some errands."

"She belongs to your dad's friend, right?"

"Yeah. Gillian has been like a second mom to me, ever since I was a little girl."

"And so her and your dad have been working together ever since?"

"Pretty much." Emily shrugged, while Sophie was almost permanently attached to her hip. They both own The Lightman Group."

"I think I've actually heard of that place a time or two. They use psychology to solve cases, right?"

"Each person on their team has a different skill that helps them solve cases. For instances: my dad is pretty good at reading microexpressions, while Gillian is good at voice analysis."

"Voice analysis. So what . . . she finds the lies in your words?"

"She never forgets a voice."

"And your dad just knows?"

"Yeah, he's always kind of been like that. Often times he enjoys it."

"But you don't?"

"Not when he tries to read me every minute of the day." She looked towards the house. "Speaking of my dad. . . I should probably be checking up on him,"

"Right . . . the surgery." Looking at his watch again, he pulled his keys out of his pocket.

"Nice car." Emily stopped abruptly, to admire the Mercedes Benz parked in her driveway.

"Thanks. It's actually my mom's. I'm supposed to be picking her up from the airport in about an hour."

"That's pretty cool that she lets you drive it."

"I guess." Shrugging like it was no big deal; he got behind the wheel and started it up. "She doesn't let me drive it often, but when she does . . . well it's kind of fun."

"Doesn't she ever worry about you crashing such an expensive car?"

"She worries all the time, and hopes that I won't crash when she's away." He called from behind the wheel. "So I'll see you around school then?"

She caught a faint smile from behind the window. "Okay. But I think we only have one class together."

"Then I will see you there." With that final note, he backed out of the driveway and drove away.

As soon as she had parked, Gillian noticed a man with a scruffy beard walking towards her. By the time she had reached for her purse that was in the passenger seat, he was pointing towards the house to one of his men—which gave her enough time gather the strength to walk over.

"I'm Bob Staten." He introduced, shaking her hand. "We talked over the phone. We got your delivery a little earlier than was expected, and I'm not sure but our secretary was supposed to contact you about delivering the bed today, but I'm guessing by your reaction that you didn't. Sorry about that."

"It's fine."

Gesturing for the men waiting in the back of the truck, they pulled out the mattress and other pieces of the bed to assemble. "If you'd sign here—we'll get the bed set up and let you get back to your day."

She did just that, and they made light conversation as she led them upstairs. "I take it this is your first?" Gillian nodded, not really wanting to get into the full story about how she had adopted Sophie with her then husband, only to lose her and unexpectedly adopt her back. "Well, this is one lucky kid then. My son is four and has one of these beds and more often than not, he falls right to sleep."

"That's good to know."

"As soon as we get it together, I'll show you how to take the side pieces off, when your kid no longer needs them. I'm William, by the way."

"Gillian."

"Nice to meet you Gillian. You can either stay, or if you have something else you need to do around the house, we'll let you know when we have it put together." At that moment her phone chose to ring, and she excused herself from the room. "Gillian Foster."

"Gillian, its Albert Juarez—Elena's grandfather. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all. Is everything okay with Elena?"

"That's what I was calling you about." His Spanish accent was thick with emotion. "Elena has refused to go to therapy. She screams at night because of nightmares and she's stopped talking. Her father and I have been debating this for days, whether to call you. We didn't know what else to do. "

"I'm glad you did." Making her way into the other room, she shut the door and booted up her computer just in case she needed to give a list of referrals.

"I was hoping that either I or her father could bring her in to see you."

Now her thoughts were becoming a conflict of interest. One side longed to see that little girl again. It had been ages since she had done any kind of family therapy, that she felt quite rusty—while the other side said that it was a bad idea to even get involved. Yet, it only took a moment of silence, before she agreed for Elena to be brought to her office tomorrow afternoon.

Cal smacked his lips dryly as he laid there on the couch. "Em?" He tried to get up, but his efforts were thwarted by pain. He was in so much of it, that he didn't see her sitting there until she got up. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"For the last half an hour. I was getting caught up on my reading." She nodded over to the book, now resting in the middle of the cushioned chair.

"Mhmm.... "

"Gillian will be back soon. You should really think about eating something." Sitting on the edge of the coffee table, she let her hands rest on her knees."

"I don't really feel like eating anything right now, Em."

"Maybe you would, if you took the pills your doctor prescribed."

"I can do without them."

"Do you think now is the best time to be stubborn? Besides, you don't want Gillian taking care of you for the rest of your life, do you?" There was a long pause between them as she realized the significance of his silence. "You do."

"Hand me that pillow, will you?" He inquired towards the pillow that had fallen to the ground.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but Gillian hasn't really been herself lately." She fluffed the pillow up and carefully placed it behind his back. "I think she really needs you. And if anything . . . you should take the pills for her."