THE THERAPIST

12

𝐂 𝐡 𝐚 𝐩 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫  𝟏𝟐

     I pulled up into the parking lot of Rise Again and stared at the reflection in the rearview mirror. My lips quivered as I thought back to many many months ago at my parent’s house. The last memory of Edna I had was her trying to stab me with a kitchen knife. Luckily, Mum and Dad were there, I wouldn’t be sitting in this car.

     I hadn’t seen Edna for a while now ever since she got admitted to this rehab center. Dr. Flynn told me to keep my distance for the time being, as Edna saw me to be her enemy. I had abided by that, promising myself I’d visit her. But I hadn’t. I failed her.

     Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and stepped out of the car, hitting a button on the key fob. The security man in the booth had his head down, his eyes moving rapidly across a newspaper. He looked up, glancing at me. I lifted a hand and waved to him as I passed by the booth. He waved back with an inflictive smile.

     I entered the rehab center, the door closing with a soft click. The sterile smell of antiseptic instantly hit me—a very sharp contrast to the warm air outside. I made my way to the reception.

     The lobby was dimly lit, with pale green walls and gleaming white floors. A vase of golden tulips and potted plants sat on tables. Different motivational posters were pasted on the walls.

     The middle-aged woman in scrubs looked up from her computer and stared at me with a small smile. “Good day, ma’am. How may I help you?”

     “Good day. I’m here to visit my sister, Edna Newton.”

     “Name?” she said.

     “Avery Newton.”

     She typed something into her computer; the clacking of keys was the only sound in the background.

     I waited, fiddling with my purse.

     “Here,” the woman said, handing me a visitor’s badge. “She’s in the visitation room.” She turned to a clipboard. “You’re all set. Please sign in here.”

     “Sure.” I took the badge and nodded, then scribbled my name and time of arrival.
She explained the usual rules: no cell phones, no outside food or drinks, and a maximum of two hours per visit.

     “Got it. Thanks.” As I clipped the badge to my blouse, a voice I recognized called my name.

     “Dr. Avery?”

     I lifted my head to the sight of Dr. Flynn in a lab coat over a suit. I neared him, a smile lingering on my face. “Hi, Dr. Flynn. It’s nice to see.”

     He lifted a hand toward me. “Nice to have you here. How’re you doing?”

     I shook his hand, then withdrew. “Good.”

     “I’m happy to hear. This way, please.”

     The hallway to the visitation room appeared longer than it was, or desperation was making me think that. Fluorescent lights loomed overhead, and the low hum of voices drifted from behind closed doors. My heartbeat quickened as we reached the door.

     I stopped momentarily in my tracks. I didn’t know if it was instinct or impulse. “Dr. Flynn?”

     He halted and turned to me. “Yes. Is everything all right?”

     I hesitated, then said sheepishly, “Do you think she wants to see me?” The last time we spoke, Edna’s words had been venomous. Was she still harboring that hatred for me?