CHAPTER 2
Lizzy had been seeing her therapist, Linda Gates, for eighteen years now, beginning when she was a teen and had just returned from three months of hell. In all those years, the office had hardly changed: same couch, same executive-sized desk, same ergonomic chair—everything, including the walls, was in neutral colors. The best part was the large paned windows overlooking downtown Sacramento. If you stood at just the right angle, you could even glimpse part of the American River.
“Why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling.”
Lizzy crossed her legs. “My sister is driving me nuts. Why she let that asshole move back in, I’ll never know. It makes no sense. My niece shouldn’t have to listen to their constant bickering. It’s—”
“Lizzy.”
“Yes?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“I am?”
“Yes. How are you feeling?”
“Feeling?”
“Yes.”
Lizzy’s shoulders dropped. “Under the circumstances, I’m doing fine. I’m exercising and eating OK. Between work and my self-defense program, I’m keeping busy. The teenagers I’m teaching right now are great.”
Linda sighed.
“What?” Lizzy asked. “Why do I get the feeling there are right and wrong answers to your questions?”
“There are no right or wrong answers, you know that, but I’ve known you for a long time and I’m concerned that you may be trying to move on as if nothing has changed. And that’s not moving on at all.”
“You think I’m in denial.”
Linda nodded. “I know you are. In a matter of weeks you killed a man in self-defense, then lost your father, and now your fiancé lies comatose in a hospital bed and you’re being asked to make a difficult decision.”
“The decision was made before the first bullet hit Jared’s chest,” Lizzy said. “The advance directive Jared signed putting me in charge of his care was for exactly this purpose. But Jared’s family has decided to bring the matter to court. They want to keep Jared on feeding tubes and ventilators, everything Jared didn’t want.”
“It doesn’t help that his family and you don’t see eye to eye,” Linda said. “I think it would be in your best interest—”
“Don’t say it,” Lizzy said, cutting her off. “I have too many people as it is telling me how to handle the situation. I’m dealing with things the same way I’ve dealt with everything that’s happened in my life.” She uncrossed her legs and sat up straight. “I take it one day at a time. I get out of bed, get dressed, brush my teeth, and go to work. I can’t say I’m stopping to smell the roses, but I’m here, aren’t I?”
A deafening silence came between them.
“I’ll be fine,” Lizzy added.
“When are you planning on moving back into your house?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Why not?”
“Too many memories.”
“You can’t run from them forever.”
Lizzy looked at the clock on the wall. “I need to get going.” She stood. “I’ll see you next week.” Lizzy pointed a finger at Linda, who still sat on the couch, unmoving, her brow severely puckered. “I’m not holding back,” Lizzy told her. “I will be fine. We’ll all be fine.”