Dance Moms - Chlobird

Chapter 9 : Diagnosis

Doctor Arroway was sitting in his usual spot, at the last table of an outdoor pastry shop, with a cup of black coffee and a half-eaten waffle on the table. He was reading a folded newspaper in one hand, holding his warm coffee cup in the other. In the age of the internet, he still prefers old-fashioned printed paper.

"Good Morning, Chloe. How are you?" he put down his paper and stood, pulling out a chair like a gentleman.

"Thank you, Doctor."

Chloe sat, looking at the doctor sweetly. The morning sun was casting on his back, generating a golden outline around him, it made him glow like an angel. In Chloe's heart, he was always her angel.

"How was your sleep?" Arroway pushed his paper away and asked.

"I get by."

"How many hours?"

"Do we have to start every session like this?" Chloe ordered a cup of hot lemon tea. "Can't we just have breakfast like ordinary people?"

"But you're not ordinary. Are you?" the Doctor leaned forward. "Not many people suffered so much at such a young age, yet not showing any symptoms of trauma."

"Maybe I am extraordinary!" Chloe put out a smile, stole a berry from Arroway's plate.

"Perhaps, but insomnia is known to be an early sign of post-traumatic stress disorder. Bad dreams, short of breath, waking up in cold sweat..."

"I don't have any of those!" Chloe bit her lip, but touched her wrist under the table - the nine scars that keep her alert. "And since when did you become a sleepetologist?"

"Since you showed up in my career, and the correct term is Somnologist." he smiled in his white teeth, then serious again. "I'm just looking out for you. These things can accumulate, and it may result in harms we cannot foresee."

"I'm doing fine!"

Chloe continued eating off the waffle, to the point Arroway pushed his plate over to her in annoyance, his expression made her giggle like a little girl.

The waitress arrived, setting a cup, a plate of lemon and sugar cubes, and a small glass teapot on a candle stove. Arroway watched her fix the tea to her preference, and smelled the rising steam pleasantly.

"When did you start having tea?" the Doctor observed.

"But I always have tea." Chloe puzzled.

"You drank coffee, and your mother drank tea. I remember it well." he pointed out. "I guess being away changes you."

"I thought I said I don't want to talk about that."

Chloe lowered her eyes and sipped her tea. Being away in St. Petersburg was memorable, but away in Iraq was something she wished to forget. Knowing he touched a sensitive spot, Arroway quickly changed topic.

"All right. How is work?"

"It's a struggle. It's hard not having any qualifications."

"With your qualifications, I'm surprised the police force isn't begging for you."

"Detective Kelly suggested that."

"So why not?"

Chloe put down her tea, took a long thought before she spoke.

"It's not the life for me, fighting crime on a daily basis, I mean."

"Yet you went out like a vigilante every night."

"She told you that?" Chloe frowned.

"My mother told me that." Arroway grinned with his white teeth. "There are only a few things a girl could do to come home at 4:00 a.m. in the morning, and I know you aren't the kind that does the walk of shame."

"Oh my God. Did I wake her up?" Chloe jumped.

"No, but she does check the security log from time to time. Don't forget, I was a cop once." Arroway gave her a wink.

"I'm moving out!"

"And you won't find another place so cheap."

"No!" Chloe giggled. "You'll have to drag me out! I love the apartment so much. I always wanted to live in a chambre de bonne!"

"Shamba the what?" Arroway blinked.

"It's what the French call it, it's the top of the house where the servants live."

"So when are you gonna help my mother take out the trash?" Arroway joked, and the two broke out laughter under the morning sun.