Her Name is Memory

23| ricocheting pain

Chapter 23

I was going to be someone someday
But for now I just want to feel okay

~Nathaniel's Lyric Journal

"NATHANIEL MCCOY?"

The sharp voice jerked me up from my chair. I saw a short figure by the cream door, watching me with intensity.

"Yes. That is me," I said, rubbing my heavy eyes.

After the party, I kissed Elise some more, drove her back home, kissed her some more, and then we spoke on the phone all night. I didn't realize how early it was until she fell asleep on the phone with me and the sun was out of my window. Even though I only had four hours of sleep, my smile never wavered.

"Thanks for waiting. I'm Dr. Sarah Freeman," she introduced herself. I shook her soft hand and staring at her intensely.

Unlike Dr. Freeman in the cheerleading picture I showed to Dad, her curly hair was instead straight black hair that fell over her shoulder. While she was smiling in the picture, this woman looked serious.

She gestured to her room. "Come inside. You can take a seat in anywhere on the couch."

I followed her into the room, feeling a brush of cool air. Looking to the side, I could hear the fan blowing by the door. Her windows were ajar, allowing warm sunlight to spill into the room. The white walls were dilapidated- in desperate need of fresh paint. The red curtains and the brown, leather couch did nothing to ease the austere appearance of the room.

"You have a lovely office," I said, taking a seat on the couch. The couch groaned under my weight, allowing me to sit comfortably.

"Thank you," she smiled, taking a seat in her worn out chair. "What can I help you with? Are you interested in a session?"

I sighed, thinking how to organize my scattered thoughts into sentences.

"Maybe on session. I just wanted to talk. I think you knew my Mom, Anita Lopez Hernandez. She married Chris McCoy. ," I began, rubbing the back of my neck with nervousness.

Her eyes slightly widen, and she sat straight up. Her straight face turned into a smile. "You're Anita's son. You have grown so much. You look just like her." Her eyes dimmed. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," I responded with an even tone, not feeling the painful stabbing that makes me unable to breathe.

Her smile turned painful before looking at her notebook. "I'm sorry. I know this is difficult to talk about. She was a dear friend of mine in high school. Did you want to talk about your Mom?"

Maybe it should've been the reason. I always had thoughts about Mom circulating my mind, clouding me from my own thoughts.

Focus.

"Actually I'm here to ask about Rose Miller."

Dr. Freeman's pen stopped moving. She looked up beyond her glasses, tilting her head. She coughed, looking back down at her notes. "She was a friend of your mother and I. May I ask why do you want to learn more about her?"

Her voice didn't sound hostile but she sounded wary.

I rubbed my tired eyes. "I..I don't know."

Her eyes slightly narrowed. "You don't know?" she repeated with confusion .

"My mom kept Rose a secret from me. Everyone talks about how they were inseparable, but I don't know a single thing about this woman. If it is not for my family, I would've probably never known. I...I think there was reason why and her death. Something happened to her and I wanted to know what."