I hesitated. “You always talk about a mirror, when you’re dreaming. Break the mirror, smash the mirror, stuff like that. I thought it might be something from your time with those people. I thought it might be some clue to unlock . . .” I laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know. Now that I’m saying it, it sounds stupid.”
He stared at me for a moment, then got up, walking over to one of the gnarled trees on the opposite side of the lawn. I looked up at a birdhouse hanging just to my right, almost within reach. If you looked close enough, you could see it had been carefully painted with a design of leaves and vines, all shades of green and yellow. Someone had labored over this tiny shelter, taken hours probably to make it unique and beautiful. And for what—a couple of birds, who wouldn’t know the difference? It was ridiculous. I wanted to pull it down and bash it against the tree trunk. Stomp it until it broke into a million pieces.
I averted my gaze from the birdhouse. Heath was standing in front of me, a resolute look on his face.
“I don’t remember any mirror in the house where I lived that scared me,” he said. “Or if there was, I guess there’s a possibility that I’ve blocked it out. Jesus. What kind of fucked up would that mean I am?” He laughed harshly.
I kept very still. “I’m sorry, Heath.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He let out a long, trembling breath, scrubbed his face with his hands. “I was scared if you knew how I was raised, that you would see me as damaged. A freak. I thought you might leave me.”
I nodded.
He let his eyes shutter. “Dr. Cerny thinks if I can talk about all this, and how it affected me, the nightmares will stop.”
“That’s good. Really good. I admire your courage.”
He looked down at me again, his face broken and sagging. For the first time since I’d known him, I thought I could imagine what he would look like when he was an old man.
“I want you to know me, Daph,” he said. “Even if you don’t like what you see. Even if you don’t want the same in return.”
I started to say something, then stopped.
“Just don’t leave,” he said.
“I won’t.”
When I stood to kiss his cheek, it felt cold.
Chapter Ten
We sat in the bird garden for another half hour and watched the birds zoom in and out of their faded houses. They hopped out on the perches and dive-bombed each other, playing some mysterious bird version of king of the hill.
Heath told me a few more details about his childhood. The couple who had taken him in lived in a house deep in the country, east of Atlanta, on a large piece of land bordered by a creek and fallow cotton fields. He was never allowed to set foot off the property.
Public school was out of the question, and there was no church attendance nor any social gatherings. The couple he lived with weren’t religious, Heath said—or, at least, they hadn’t ever talked about God to him. As far as he could figure out, keeping him separated from peers and other adults was more of a privacy issue. They didn’t want to get arrested for buying a child.
I didn’t mention Annalise Beard or her email. It seemed like she was beside the point now, and bringing her up would probably just create more noise around the situation. Heath didn’t need that, not right now. What he needed was to sit with the story he’d just told, let the realization of it sink in. Then maybe, just maybe, he would come to the conclusion that he didn’t have to stay up here to fix it. That he didn’t need Dr. Cerny, because there was someone else who was here for him. Maybe he’d remember what he’d said to me when we first met, that the only thing he believed in was the right person.
And I was that person.
I figured Heath could use some space, so when he gathered the dishes and went inside to get ready for his next session, I stayed behind and prowled around the property. I ambled farther than I’d ventured yet—into the woods, following a narrow trail that wound down to a stream and then looped back up to the yard. The double doors of the barn were chained and padlocked. I stared at them, not seeing rotted wood and lichen but picturing a hawk bobbing, effortless, in a cold blue sky. Oh, to be a hawk. To be any kind of bird.
My head throbbed, the pain shooting all the way down my neck and deep into my right shoulder. I reached over and dug at the knotted muscle. Forget being a bird; I’d settle for a stiff drink and a good laugh with Lenny. Or, barring that, another chat with Glenys. I wanted to feel that lightness again, that incredible buoyancy I’d felt up on the mountain after I’d told her about Chantal and the girls’ ranch. It was supremely ironic. I’d just fought so fiercely against talking about my past with Heath, but with Glenys, the story had rolled right off my tongue.
What was it that made me so afraid of telling Heath? What stopped me from opening up to him? Maybe that, with him—the only man I’d ever loved like this—I had so much more to lose.
I pushed at the chained doors and put my eye to the crack. Nothing had changed from yesterday—sheet-covered furniture was crammed into the far corner. There was a single twin-bed frame, what looked like it might be a dinette set with four chairs pushed underneath. A wingback chair and some kind of desk, or maybe it was a dresser.
Something on the floor of the barn caught my eye—the knife I’d slid between the doors yesterday. I squatted and slipped my fingers into the opening, feeling my way toward the handle.
“Sleuthing?” came a voice behind me.
I turned to see Dr. Cerny standing a couple of feet away, hands in his pockets, watching me with an enigmatic smile. I stealthily withdrew my hand. Rose and jabbed my thumb back at the barn.
“I was just . . . seeing if I could get inside. Look around a little bit. There’s not much to do around here.”
“No, I’m afraid there’s not. We’re not big on extracurriculars, as most people come for the therapy.” He cocked his head and held my gaze. Smart aleck.
I raised my eyebrows. “Speaking of which, you’re probably keeping one of your patients waiting, aren’t you?”
“Waiting’s not such a bad thing. Illuminates the true character of a person.”
I lifted my chin. “Or perhaps it illuminates the character of the person making you wait.”
He smiled. “Did you know, they say people won’t complain about waiting if they have something to do, even the most meaningless activity? For instance, turning one of those superfluous corners in line at Disney World. Or studying themselves in a mirror.”
A mirror?
He furrowed his brow. “Is there anything you’d like to discuss with me, Daphne? Something about Heath’s treatment? You seem . . . annoyed.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s just, I was wondering if I could maybe get my phone back? Just to check emails.”
He smiled. “You know our policy.”
“You could make an exception.” I matched his smile.
“I could, but there’s no cell service out here.”
Not true.
“Wi-Fi, then,” I said.
“No Wi-Fi either.”
I squinted at him. “You don’t have Wi-Fi here?”
He shot me a patient grin. “I have Wi-Fi. You don’t.”
“What about the LTE network?”
“Daphne, Daphne.” He shook his head. “Don’t you understand I’m trying to help your fiancé? Disconnecting from your devices is the first step in getting in touch with your soul.”
“Okay, fine.” I sighed. “You win.”
“You know, this house was built by a wealthy prospector, who also didn’t have Wi-Fi,” he said. “Or iPads or telephones or streaming . . . whatever. But I imagine he and his family found ways to entertain themselves. What do you suppose they used to do for fun?”
“I don’t know. Taffy pulls and sing-alongs? The occasional episode of cannibalism?”
“Maybe. Maybe.” He laughed. “You know, in our sessions, Heath has shared with me how meeting you changed him. How he is determined to do anything to be the man you need.” He watched me, his eyes keen. And I had to admit, I didn’t hate the rush of warmth I felt.
“He doesn’t need to do anything more. He’s already succeeding.”
“I like you, Daphne. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”
I didn’t really know how to answer.
“Did Heath tell you the truth about his family? The couple who cared for him after his mother gave him up?”