The Last Wahleinmaier

Careful not to slam the heavy, glass doors behind her, Piper Wahleinmaier hurried down the steps of the Medallion Centre. Halfway there, she turned at the sound of someone calling her name.

"Dr. Piper!" One of Piper's most spirited patients, Claire Brandon, bounded down the steps behind her. The young girl's hot pink sweatshirt and neon green jeans contrasted beautifully with her dark features. Piper steadied herself as Claire launched into her arms. "Dr. Piper, are you coming in tomorrow? I have to show you this really awesome abstract I made all by myself!"

"Well, Claire," Piper smiled, "I'll be here, but I have three different sessions. If you come right after 4:00, you should catch me."

"Okay." Claire jumped down and cocked her head ever so slightly to the side. "I love you, Dr. Piper."

Piper touched her heart and said, "And I love you... How are you getting home today?"

Claire's eyes clouded over just a little. "I think my dad's coming to get me. Maybe. I don't know. I guess he is."

"Okay, Claire. You have my number; call me if you need me." Piper gave Claire one last hug and watched as she went back inside the silvery-blue building. Then, Piper went to the parking lot across the street where her husband of two weeks was waiting for her.

Nicholas Darcangelo got out of the black Altima, opened the door for Piper, his wife, and stowed her canvas bags in the backseat. Once they were driving, he asked, "How was your day, Piper?" She closed her eyes for a few minutes, adjusted the armrest, reclined the seat, and then answered.

"Well, at first, it was very stressful. My newest patient is a 15 year old, Peyton. Her parents signed her up for 2 ½ hour sessions three days a week, and she is not at all happy about it."

"What class is she?" Nicholas questioned.

"Unfortunately, suicidal. I'm thinking to consult with her parents on the subject of group sessions. Seems like she would do better off with the other teens of that category which I meet with on Thursdays. At first, when she came in, she refused to even pick up any of the art tools, and bragged about the things she's done to try and end her life. Then, she fell silent, and didn't say another word even when her mother picked her up. I take it she's convincedthat if she is successful, she has made a great accomplishment. I just don't understand her theory."

"Aw, no worries," Nicholas said, "You'll figure her out. You always do, you know."

"Yes, I will. For now, I'll come up with a new tactic on reaching her. I hope her parents agree to group therapy. I have two teens there, Michaela and Terence, who also are dealing with similar problems."

"Who was that little girl you were hugging outside of the Centre?"

Piper grinned broadly, "That's Claire. I told you about her the other day, remember? The most enthusiastic, helpful, and friendly patient I have ever had in my entire career. She's the sweetest angel."

"Why does she need therapy?" Nicholas asked, confused.

"It just makes my heart hurt," Piper sighed, "She's a victim of rape. It surprises me how bright and happy she is when she has gone through that, what I... Her father's half-brother was the offender; he's in jail, supposedly. Now, she's been acting just slightly off, so I'm wondering if something else is going on. I'm suspecting her father..." Piper shivered and rubbed her temples anxiously.

Nicholas looked over at Piper's paling face and stroked her arm. "Don't worry." He said, "It'll be fine. It's gonna be okay."

"This is why I'm a child therapist, Nicky. I promised myself I would never let any child go through what I did. I'd feel responsible if I didn't investigate and then something happened. I could never forgive myself. Besides, it's Claire. Claire trusts me to protect her, and I have to."