Read Online Shattered by Death (A Jo Oliver Thriller Book 2) by Catherine Finger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Finger
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until the end of the session, get her to go off on one of her tangents. If I knew one thing about Kira, it was that she loved to hear herself talk. Whereas I hated giving voice to my doubts. Was I cut out for this? What would happen if I hated being a mother six months after finalizing the adoption? An oppressive cloud descended, and my thoughts swam through a sea of darkness. I shook it off, making a mental note to reward myself with a trip to the gourmet popcorn store on the way home.
“You’ve talked about this feeling of something not being ‘right’ about your parents. How old were you when you realized your parents were different? That something about them was missing?” Kira was acting like a real therapist today. I might get my money’s worth, for once.
“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe six or seven?”
“And how old is Samantha?”
“Right now?” I was stalling—trying to figure out where she was going.
“Yes, right now.” Kira sighed and half-rolled her eyes.
Can therapists do that? Kind of obnoxious, but then again, this is Kira.
“Almost seven.” The light snapped on in my head. “Whoa. That’s pretty good, doc. So what’s it mean? What am I afraid of?”
“That’s a great question. It sounds a little bit like abandonment to me. How does that sit with you? Are you maybe afraid you’ll abandon Samantha like your parents abandoned you? That would be hard to face.” She was saying semi-compassionate things, but her tone was flat.
“No! No way. I would never leave her, but I do think about whether or not I’m good enough for her. Whether or not I’m cut out to be a mother.” Steel bands wrapped around my ribcage, and my throat constricted.
“No one is ever ready to be a parent. Kids just happen when they happen. That should be a bumper sticker: ‘Parenting happens.’ And people survive it.” She smiled, satisfied with her quip, and glanced at her watch as she sat back in her chair.
“But not everybody does, right? Survive?” If I tossed a few questions at her, she might keep yapping and save me the trouble. Maybe get me through the last twenty-odd minutes of today’s session.
“Well now, that depends. Doesn’t it? And not everyone deserves to survive, wouldn’t you agree?” She slithered back slightly, nestling deeper into her chair, her hose rubbing against the upholstery.
“Sounds like we’re no longer talking about parenting. Where’d we wander? Who doesn’t deserve to survive?” Was she talking about Del? Images of my ex and his girlfriend bleeding to death on the boathouse floor wavered through my mind like a funhouse mirror. She couldn’t be suggesting that Del deserved to die, could she?
“We’re here to talk about anything you want. Several times since the Mentor Sister Killer was apprehended, you’ve introduced the notion that the kinds of people who would actively harm a defenseless child, like Samantha, shouldn’t be allowed to live. I believe you said something akin to ‘they don’t deserve to survive.’ Tell me more about that.” She took a few notes without looking down at her computer tablet as she talked, holding my gaze.
Had I said that? I didn’t think so. I’d certainly thought that. And I’d had the occasional fantasy about rounding up the bad guys and putting them in the ground. Maybe I did say it. Lord knows my mind wanders in these sessions. Might as well go with it.
“Yeah, there are lots of perps who deserve to die. Lots of them. So what?”
“So, what I’m wondering is how you feel about living in a world where people can do bad things to good people and get away with it. Does the lack of justice bother you?” She’d taken on a sonorous tone, like a judge.
“Of course it ticks me off. I’d love to get my gun and put those punks in the ground—make this world a safer place for everyone.” You’re an idiot! You’re under investigation for murder and you start talking like this? Do you want to get back to work or not? I
“You’ve talked about this feeling of something not being ‘right’ about your parents. How old were you when you realized your parents were different? That something about them was missing?” Kira was acting like a real therapist today. I might get my money’s worth, for once.
“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe six or seven?”
“And how old is Samantha?”
“Right now?” I was stalling—trying to figure out where she was going.
“Yes, right now.” Kira sighed and half-rolled her eyes.
Can therapists do that? Kind of obnoxious, but then again, this is Kira.
“Almost seven.” The light snapped on in my head. “Whoa. That’s pretty good, doc. So what’s it mean? What am I afraid of?”
“That’s a great question. It sounds a little bit like abandonment to me. How does that sit with you? Are you maybe afraid you’ll abandon Samantha like your parents abandoned you? That would be hard to face.” She was saying semi-compassionate things, but her tone was flat.
“No! No way. I would never leave her, but I do think about whether or not I’m good enough for her. Whether or not I’m cut out to be a mother.” Steel bands wrapped around my ribcage, and my throat constricted.
“No one is ever ready to be a parent. Kids just happen when they happen. That should be a bumper sticker: ‘Parenting happens.’ And people survive it.” She smiled, satisfied with her quip, and glanced at her watch as she sat back in her chair.
“But not everybody does, right? Survive?” If I tossed a few questions at her, she might keep yapping and save me the trouble. Maybe get me through the last twenty-odd minutes of today’s session.
“Well now, that depends. Doesn’t it? And not everyone deserves to survive, wouldn’t you agree?” She slithered back slightly, nestling deeper into her chair, her hose rubbing against the upholstery.
“Sounds like we’re no longer talking about parenting. Where’d we wander? Who doesn’t deserve to survive?” Was she talking about Del? Images of my ex and his girlfriend bleeding to death on the boathouse floor wavered through my mind like a funhouse mirror. She couldn’t be suggesting that Del deserved to die, could she?
“We’re here to talk about anything you want. Several times since the Mentor Sister Killer was apprehended, you’ve introduced the notion that the kinds of people who would actively harm a defenseless child, like Samantha, shouldn’t be allowed to live. I believe you said something akin to ‘they don’t deserve to survive.’ Tell me more about that.” She took a few notes without looking down at her computer tablet as she talked, holding my gaze.
Had I said that? I didn’t think so. I’d certainly thought that. And I’d had the occasional fantasy about rounding up the bad guys and putting them in the ground. Maybe I did say it. Lord knows my mind wanders in these sessions. Might as well go with it.
“Yeah, there are lots of perps who deserve to die. Lots of them. So what?”
“So, what I’m wondering is how you feel about living in a world where people can do bad things to good people and get away with it. Does the lack of justice bother you?” She’d taken on a sonorous tone, like a judge.
“Of course it ticks me off. I’d love to get my gun and put those punks in the ground—make this world a safer place for everyone.” You’re an idiot! You’re under investigation for murder and you start talking like this? Do you want to get back to work or not? I