Read Online Obsession by Jonathan Kellerman - Free Book Online Page B

watching.”
     
     
    I drove to Tanya’s house, thinking back to the first time I’d met her.
    Skinny little blond girl wearing a dress, anklet socks, and shiny sandals. Back pressed to the wall of my waiting area, as if the carpet was bottomless water.
    When I’d stepped out of the office, Patty had touched Tanya’s cheek gently. Tanya’s nod was grave, a movement so brief it bordered on tic. Fingers as delicate as fettuccini gripped her mother’s chunky hand. A shiny foot tapped. The other was planted on the imaginary shoreline.
    I bent to child’s eye level. “Nice to meet you, Tanya.”
    Murmured reply. All I could make out was “you.”
    Patty said, “Tanya chose her outfit. She likes to dress up, has excellent taste.”
    “Very pretty, Tanya.”
    Tanya mouth-breathed; I smelled hamburger and onion.
    I said, “Let’s go in there. Mom can come, too, if you’d like.”
    Patty said, “Or I don’t have to.” She hugged the little girl and stepped away. Tanya didn’t move.
    “I’ll be right here, honey. You’ll be okay, I super-promise.”
    Tanya looked up at her. Took a deep breath. Gave another grim little nod and stepped forward.
     
     
    She surveyed the props on the play table. Open-sided dollhouse, family-member figurines, pencils, crayons, markers, a stack of paper. Prolonged eye contact with the paper.
    “Do you like to draw?”
    Nod.
    “If you feel like drawing now, that’s fine.”
    She picked up a pencil and drew a slow, wispy circle. Sat back, frowned. “It’s bumpy.”
    “Is bumpy okay?”
    Pale green eyes studied me. She put the pencil down. “I came here to break my habits.”
    “Mom told you that?”
    “She said if I want to, I should tell you.”
    “Which habits bother you the most, Tanya?”
    “Mommy told you all of them.”
    “She did. But I’d like to know what you think.”
    Puzzled look.
    “They’re your habits,” I said. “You’re in charge over them.”
    “I don’t want to be in charge.”
    “You’re ready to let go of the habits.”
    Mumble.
    “What’s that, Tanya?”
    “They’re bad.”
    “Bad like scary?”
    Head shake. “They make me busy.”
    The pencil was an inch from where it had lain originally and she rolled it back. Adjusted the tip, then the eraser. Readjusted and tried, without success, to smooth a curling corner of paper.
    “That bumpy circle,” I said, “could be the start of a person’s face.”
    “Can I throw it out?”
    “Sure.”
    Folding and unfolding the sheet lengthwise, she ripped slowly along the crease. Repeated the process with each of the halves.
    “Where, please?”
    I pointed at the wastebasket. She dropped the pieces in, one by one, watched them drop, returned to the table.
    “So you want to break your habits.”
    Nod.
    “You and Mommy agree on that.”
    “Yup.”
    “You and Mommy are a team.”
    That seemed to puzzle her.
    “You and Mommy agree most of the time.”
    “We love each other.”
    “Loving means agreeing.”
    “Yup.”
    She drew a pair of circles, one twice the diameter of the other. Squinted and hunched and added primitive features.
    “Lumpy again,” she pronounced. Another trip to the trash can.
    “You really don’t like lumpy,” I said.
    “I like it to be
good
.”
    Selecting a third piece of paper, she put the pencil down and traced circles with her finger. Looked up at the ceiling. Tapped the fingers of one hand, then the other.
    “What kinds of things do you and Mommy do together?”
    She retrieved the pencil. Twirled it. “There was a mother when I was a baby. She was too weak and Mommy wanted to take care of me…she was Mommy’s sister.”
    “The other mother.”
    “She was called Lydia. She died in a accident. Mommy and I get sad when we think about her.”
    “Do you think about her a lot?”
    Flicking the paper stack, she selected a female figurine, placed it in the house’s living room. “We also have a fish.”
    “At home?”
    “In the kitchen.”
    “In a