Gentlemen Only

Rinse and Repeat

Janet huffed and repositioned her handbag on her aching shoulder, breath quickening from exertion. She cast a remonstrative glare at her pudgy thighs, mentally blaming them for her lack of physical prowess as she trudged up the steep stairwell. Embroidered gaucho pants swirled around her squat limbs and tangled her moccasin covered feet inside their billowing depths with every step. The fabric wicked uncomfortably near her groin, threatening to chaff as she perspired.

Janet didn't work out, aside from the occasional yoga class she attended, which she wouldn't have bothered with if it weren't for the fact it was taught by her sexy neighbor across the hall. Legs burning, she cursed the broken elevator as she plodded up the steps. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the landing came into view, though the feeling was short-lived: a shivering figure sat hunched outside her office door, hiding behind a mop of straw-colored hair.

"Oh, hell." Janet blurted. Given her profession, sugar coating wasn't her specialty, and didn't come easily to her. It made her uncomfortable to force herself to withhold information from someone just to make them feel better. However, the fiery ginger could dish out the honest truth as fast as water from a hose.

"What are you doing here, Meredith?" Her voice fell empathetically.

The trembling lump let out a hoarse squeak in response and gazed up at her behind the veil of hair. Janet started, shocked: never had she seen Meredith's hair down, much less unclean, and the stringy, grimy look that dulled the gold locks disturbed her greatly.

"We don't have an appointment today." Janet reminded her firmly, though her voice was gentle and kind.

"I know," Meredith sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks in rivulets. "But I took the stairs." A small, pitiful wail emitted from her twisted lips as she cried.

Janet glanced back at the stairwell and sighed, checking her watch. "I have a patient visiting in twenty minutes." She supplied, reaching a hand down to help pull Meredith up. Her plump fingers grasped the frail, thin ones and squeezed encouragingly. "I can spare a few until they arrive."

"I'm so sorry." Meredith sniffled, nose sounding very congested, as if stuffed with cotton.

A wry grin unfurled on Janet's face. "That's my job, Meredith." She sighed, though the frustration wasn't directed at Meredith. Still, the thin woman flinched and grimaced, turning her head to the side.

She was strikingly beautiful. Janet truthfully had no idea why Meredith was the way she was, and that bothered her to no end. In the few years they'd been meeting for therapy, little was revealed by the timid secretary. Sometimes, Janet wondered why she bothered to pay for the services at all. The lack of information hindered her diagnostic process, which made it increasingly difficult to formulate a treatment plan for Meredith.

"Let me rephrase that." Janet's voice softened, becoming more alleviating. "What I mean to say, is that because you are a valued client of mine, I am available to you anytime you need me."

Meredith didn't reply as she followed Janet into her office. The redhead breathed in the spicy scent of sandalwood as she stepped through the threshold, allowing the fragrance to seep into her nasal passages and permeate her senses. She kept candles and diffusers stockpiled in the room. It reminded her of a far off, long forgotten acquaintance that pulled tantalizingly at her heartstrings, and inhaling the heady scent kept her grounded as she treated her patients. Often, she fantasized that without a coping mechanism, she herself would sink into the discombobulation of insanity and join them. The thought didn't necessarily scare her, but she'd rather enjoy the perks of sanity while she could. Senility affected many, and she was none to eager to meet it.

"You can sit anywhere you like, Meredith." Janet offered kindly, gesturing to the particularly comfortable couch she preferred. It was a sign of how much she liked Meredith; the offer hadn't been made to many clients, as Janet preferred that one for herself.