❁ Asher ❁

Dr. Elliot Disher is the finest psychiatrist in Dietrich, but that didn’t stop me from ending our visits over a year ago. He has his ideas. I have better ones. We never agreed, so I canceled all our appointments and moved on with my life.

Now I’ve returned to his office which reeks of expensive leather. Next to me, a skittish Junie sports the expression of a woman dragged somewhere against her will. She wears black jeans and a red Coca-Cola T-shirt. Disher, though, focuses on her black roller skates while I’m more interested in her legs. The only sound in the office for nearly three minutes is Junie tapping her left roller skate against the hardwood floor.

“I was surprised when I heard you wanted to see me,” Disher says in a Southern drawl.

“I was rather surprised too,” I say and reach over to pat Junie’s hand. “Somehow after choosing to end our sessions, I found myself convincing Junie to give you a chance.”

“Have you ever been to a psychiatrist before?” Disher asks Junie.

“I don’t believe in therapy.”

“What about it gives you pause?”

“Nothing. I just don’t believe it exists.”

I shake my head and tell the doctor, “Ignore her. Junie’s father had a poor view of psychiatry. His death made him a martyr to Junie who must now believe everything he ever said.”

“How did your father pass away?” Disher asks Junie.

“Like Buddy Holly.”

“What did your father do?”

“He was a doctor.”

“A podiatrist,” I add for no reason beyond enjoying Junie’s irritation.

Her hazel eyes narrow. “That’s still a doctor.”

“I went to medical school too,” Disher says.

Junie crosses her arms. “Well, I didn’t, so what’s your point?”

“Let’s begin again,” Disher says when she only frowns at him. “Asher, why don’t you explain what spurred this visit?”

“I’m dating her, but we’re having problems.”

“Have you considered not dating her?”

“Big shock that he’s against me,” Junie mutters. “Now that he knows I’m onto his pseudo-medical racket.”

I glance at her and then back at the doctor. “Yes, I have considered this option, but I found it more unpleasant than keeping her around.”

Junie fights a smirk. I watch her struggle for the longest time until she finally gives in and smiles.

“I’ll keep you around, Ferrer.”

“What kind of relationship issues are you having?” Disher asks when we ignore him for too long.

“Since the death of her father and sister, Junie’s emotionally stunted. Her entire life revolves around that incident.”

“And Asher’s emotionally stunted since his best friend ditched him and married a bland Barbie. His entire life revolves around avoiding someone abandoning him again.”

Irritated by her throwing Garrett in my face after Disher made such an issue about my friend during our sessions, I grumble, “Well, I don’t wear roller skates everywhere I go.”

“Yeah, but I don’t lock myself in my house like a temperamental beast king looking down at his minions. I choose to embrace my quirks in a healthy way. You, not so much.”

“Quirks?”

“Everyone has them, and people don’t even hide them anymore. In fact, I know a girl from high school who is in love with her turtle. Personally, I feel like she could do better. You know, she could love a dog or cat, but she has a pretty horrible voice, so maybe the turtle is the only creature capable of dealing with the sound,” Junie says and then asks me, “Can turtles hear?”

“I would assume so.”

“Never assume,” she says, taking out her phone and googling the question.

“Can we move back to the reason you’re here?” the doctor asks.

“This,” I say, gesturing toward Junie, “is why we’re here.”

“I guess turtles can hear a little. I guess that’s why he’s always hiding in his shell when I see him.”

“When you say ‘in love,’ do you mean romantically because I sense that’s a lie?” I ask her while ignoring Disher who also seems distrustful of Junie’s story.

“No, Emory’s in love with him. I don’t know if she thinks he’s in love with her, but I honestly can’t deal with her voice for more than a few minutes. Normally, I flake out halfway through whatever she’s saying.”

“Still feels like a lie.”

“Love is a strange thing,” she says, giving me a wink.

“And where did you see this woman and her turtle lover? They aren’t friends of yours, I assume.”

“I see them every month at the farmer’s market where she pushes him around in a baby carriage.”

Laughing, I remain ninety-nine percent certain that Junie is lying, but I’ve been wrong before. Occasionally. Okay, once.

“Can we stop talking about the turtle and discuss you two?” Disher asks, sounding tired which doesn’t bode well for our future sessions.

“He’s very bossy,” Junie whispers loudly to me.

The doctor smiles at her attempts to irritate him. “Why don’t we start with how you two met?”