Anger Management

The Interpretation of Happy

Happy squared her shoulders and pushed open the doors leading to Toby's office. She had been dreading seeing him after their. . . moment last week. She tried reasoning with herself; telling herself that it didn't matter to her, that being that close to him hadn't set her nerves on fire. Except it had, and she wasn't sure what to do with this recent discovery.

She focused on putting one foot in front of the other and adopted a neutral expression. She stepped into Toby's office to find him asleep at his desk. His head rested against his crossed arms on his desk and his hat was haphazardly lying next to the open book on his desk.

Happy considered waking him but decided against it. She wouldn't want someone disturbing what looked like much-needed sleep if it was her sleeping.

Instead she decided to peruse his office. She had been here once before but she hadn't really looked around.

She started by looking through his books. She saw several psychological texts like The Interpretation of Dreams by Signmund Freud and Man and His Symbols by Carl Jung. Nothing that really interested her. A little while on, she found some novels that she had actually read, and liked. Who would have thought she and the Doc would have anything in common?

Just as she began to look through his impressive vinyl collection, she heard a throaty groan come from where Toby seemed to be waking up.

Suddenly a genius plan came to Happy's mind. She quietly walked to the seat facing him and sat down. She watched as he stretched his arms out and groaned again. His eyes opened slowly and he began to sit up.

He was furiously blinking sleep out of his eyes when he spotted her. "Holy cow!" He screamed. Okay, maybe he didn't really say holy cow but Happy decided to edit his choice words in her head.

He stared at her for a minute before asking with a scratchy voice, "Am I dreaming?"

"If you were dreaming, would I be able to do this?" Happy asked while simultaneously kicking the leg of his chair hard enough for him to lose his balance and nearly fall to the floor. He shook his head and mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "Not dream-Happy then,"

Toby took another minute to collect himself then asked Happy what she was doing in his office.

She pointed to the clock above his head. "It's nine. And it's Monday - therapy day." Toby seemed to realise, suddenly, that he had fallen asleep in his office.

"Oh, God," he mumbled and pressed a hand to his eyes. Not a morning person, then. Strange, Happy thought, he seemed awake enough to wake her up and get her out of bed for boxing lessons.

"Happy, do you mind if I shower? I have an extra set of clothes stored here. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time this has happened." He cast a sheepish look at her. "I won't be long," he promised and slipped into the bathroom adjacent to his office.

Once she heard the shower turn on, she went to sit in his seat. The book lying open in front of her was called The Power Of Habit by Charles M. Duhigg. Happy thought back to his gambling. . . habit and found herself glad that he was trying to stop. She looked around his desk for photo frames but came up empty. For a second she was engulfed in sadness. How could it be that someone as friendly as Tobias Curtis didn't have photos of friends or family members on his desk. She wondered if he wasn't proud of them, or if he didn't have any.

On his desk was also a marble bust with the parts of the brain labelled. She was busy lifting it to see the labels more clearly when a towel-clad Toby said from the doorway, "Don't drop that."

Happy stilled and looked at Toby with wide eyes. Boxing was doing him good. She tore her eyes from his chest and stammered out a response that sounded vaguely like a mix between "Okay," and "Fine,".

Toby grabbed a t-shirt from behind his desk and took it with him to the bathroom, throwing a wink at her on his way out.

Happy could feel her cheeks burning. She quickly scrambled up from his chair and sat back down in the one facing his. She heard him enter this time and straightened in her chair. He came around to sit in his chair but Happy wouldn't meet his eyes.

"See something you like?" Toby teased and Happy scoffed and said, "Hardly,"

Toby grinned and looked at the time. "Well," he said, "at least we still have time left for a session. So how has your week been?"

Happy sighed and told him about the handsy customer that stopped being a customer after Happy broke his jaw. She told him about the boxing she'd been doing by herself. She did not, however, tell him about the time she spent wondering what his callused hands would feel like on her skin. Or about how every time she went to the gym, she kept seeing Katja and the pit of jealousy in her gut twisted viciously. No, she didn't tell him any of that. He didn't need to know.

He listened patiently to her rant and nodded occasionally. She had to admit, for someone who never shut up, he was a good listener. He never interrupted unless he had a question about something she had told him.

When their hour was up, Happy was the first to stand. She had enjoyed actually talking about things that bothered her. Toby stood up, too.

"We made progress today, Happy," he said with a smile. "We still have a lot to do but I'm proud of you for trying." Happy nodded, suddenly not sure what to do with her hands.

"Next week I'd like for us to get to know each other better. Alright?" Happy nodded and turned around. "Also, Happy," he added, "try not to hit anyone this week."

Happy laughed weakly and raced out of the office. Only once she was in her car did she let out a breath and relax.