Chapter Six
QUINN
My patient sat back against the couch, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. “So I guess I just don’t know how to talk to her. I mean, she’s my wife, and I love her. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. But every time we talk nowadays I feel like she’s going to snap at me. It’s like a warzone every time she comes home. It didn’t use to be like that, you know?”
I clicked my pen and held his gaze over the clipboard. This had been an intense session, the third with this particular patient, and now we were getting to the root of the issues that he had with his spouse. “Would you say that she threatens you?”
“No, she doesn’t make threats. I mean, not anything explicit. I don’t think I’m in danger. That’s what you’re looking for, right, us being in danger? That’s what you have to report.”
His nervousness had gone up to the millionth degree. I set my clipboard down and smiled at him. “I don’t have to report anything unless I believe that your life is in danger, or if you report neglect or abuse to me. Nothing you’ve said to me so far is anything I have to report. You have strict confidentiality here.”
“If my wife calls, you don’t have to tell her?”
“No.” I shook my head. “In fact, if I did tell her, I’d be in violation of the law. She’s not on your list of emergency disclosure, so I can’t give her your information.”
This seemed to relax him a little, and he took a sip of his tea. “It’s good to know that. I’ll… I’ll think about it, Ms. Rodgers. I really will.”
“You can call me Quinn,” I said, with a sort of smile on my face. In all honesty, I would prefer ‘Dr. Rodgers’ to ‘Ms. Rodgers’ but ‘Quinn’ was the friendliest possible thing to be called. I didn’t like to build up artificial authority between myself and patients. The more they felt I could be trusted, the better their appointments would go. I didn’t want them to waste their money and time on a woman they didn’t even really trust.
“Well, I’ll try,” the patient said. He offered me a nervous smile and stood up.
“Oh, are we out of time?” I glanced at the clock above the door and shook my head. “Gets away from me. I’ll see you back tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sure thing, Ms. Quinn,” he said. I opened the door for him, and he made his way out. I didn’t have any more patients for the day and had been tempted to hold him over, but if I did that with him, I’d start doing it with everyone.
As I began to close the door to my office, I spotted Kimberly standing outside against the wall, peering over like she was checking to see if I was in.
“Kimberly?” I called.
She offered me an enthusiastic wave. “Hey, Quinn. I was wondering if you were in. I tried calling, but…”
“I keep my phone off while I’m at work. I hate for it to go off while I’m talking to someone. Come on in,” I said, and held the door open for her. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”
“That would be lovely,” she said, and I sat down and poured out some tea for the older woman.
“What brings you by?” I asked, handing over the mug.
“Well, it’s…” Kimberly sighed. “It’s Sawyer. Remember how I was talking to you at the party the other day?”
I nodded. I hadn’t really stopped thinking about that entire event, namely the interaction with Sawyer, but also what Kimberly told me stuck in my mind. It was like an unsolved puzzle to me. “Of course.”
“It’s been on my mind, what you said about sometimes veterans need a psychologist,” Kimberly said. She pursed her lips. “Sawyer’s been retreating. He stays in his room a good deal of the time. This morning I tried to talk to him about getting out and around and he took off to his friend’s house. Now, I know he’s got some issues with his father, too, and that…” She took a drink of her tea.
“It’s a lot to think about,” I said, trying not to allow Kimberly to divulge too much of Sawyer’s personal information. I couldn’t imagine he’d appreciate me knowing the nitty gritty about his brain.
“Yes, it certainly is.” Kimberly pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “But I was thinking about it, and I know that Sawyer said he was angry about some of the psychiatrists overseas. They don’t talk; they just push pills. And I was thinking about how you said you only gave medication as a last resort.”
I could see where she was going with this, and it didn’t sit all too well with me. I had quite the crush on Sawyer, if I was being honest with myself, and I knew that it wasn’t ever a good idea to get involved with a patient.
“So I was wondering if you might be willing to help him,” Kimberly finally said. “You being a psychologist and all.”
I thought about it. It would be a little dicey, but I couldn’t hardly give Kimberly any reason why not. I didn’t want to admit that I had a little crush on her son, and I also didn’t want to tell her no for no reason. I knew myself well enough to know that I could stifle a crush. There had been attractive patients in the past that I’d ignored any and all potential feelings for. I was a professional; it wouldn’t be any challenge at all to handle Sawyer.
“I don’t see any reason why not,” I said. I fastened my ponytail a bit tighter. “You’ll just need to be sure that he comes here on his own. Forcing people into therapy never works. Patients have to be receptive.”
“Of course,” Kimberly said. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to aggravate his condition or anything.”
I smiled. “Right.”
She talked to me a little about when I’d be available, and I offered her a rough copy of my schedule. I had plenty of openings, but all at strange times, since people who worked normal work days came in during the evenings or on the weekends. Finally, she left, with some tea in a travel cup and my pseudo-promise still in her ears.
When I closed the door, I couldn’t help but mouth a small curse to myself. I’d gone and invited Sawyer to dinner, being everything but coy with him. After such a straightforward flirting experience, it would be hard to backtrack into patient-doctor territory. Especially here, where I could be delegitimized as a functioning doctor.
Still, I thought of what I’d seen of him at the party. He’d set himself away from the main group, a surefire sign of mental distancing made physical. If he’d been in the Navy SEALs, in combat areas, there was no doubt he’d seen some disturbing things. I’d taken entire classes on PTSD and veterans. It wasn’t my specialty. Usually, I dealt with adult issues ranging from divorce to people cracking under pressure of their job. But I was doubtlessly qualified and well-read in the area, and it wasn’t a bad idea to send him to me.
All I needed to do was look at him as a puzzle and not as a person. I didn’t usually go to that extreme with patients. I considered myself at least relatively compassionate and wanted my patients to feel like the valued people they were. With Sawyer, though, I was going to need to set up some boundaries, and quickly. Some of those would be between him and I, and some would be things I dealt with on my own, mentally.
And that wasn’t even the biggest problem with everything. The biggest problem, as far as I could tell, was that I was quite directly related to his ex-girlfriend, Stacy. My aunt, whom I was very close to, was her mother. And while Stacy wasn’t one of my patients and I didn’t need to worry about a conflict of interest in that regard, it still didn’t sit well with me.
I could have referred him to someone else. I picked my keys up off the desk and started turning off the lamps and candles in my office while I turned that over in my head. I could have referred Kimberly to a different psychologist and saved myself a lot of stress and trouble. Now I was in a mess I wasn’t sure I knew how to get out of.
Still, I knew I couldn’t. I wanted very much to talk to Sawyer. At this point, I was curious, and my own curiosity led to trouble. I wanted to know what had gone on in his life and figure out what was going on inside his head. If I sent him to someone else, there would be a million questions running around unanswered in my head.
As I walked out of the office, I sighed to myself and shook my head. That was all well and good to think of it as a puzzle, but I had to be sure to not get too attached.