Semi-conscious Reasoning (7. To Forgive and Forget)

"Let's see...I believe there were three today, sir."

"Three!"

The secretary squinted at the screen and repeated "That's right, three."

Dan grinned and straightened his tie as if company were present to hear of his accomplishment. The waiting room was nearly empty that day, however, so not even the overweight woman filing her nails bothered to take interest. The hall door beside the secretary's desk opened, and Weston faltered out, his face several inches from a patient file in distress. He approached Dan, affixed to the pages as he arrived to his coworker's side.

"Did you hear that, Weston?" he gleamed. "Three new patients today! I'm on a roll!"

"Dan, say you'll help me with Ash..."

"Again?"

"She's tricky! She's rarely ever truthful—it's obvious the brat doesn't want help!"

"Well at least she's stopped kicking you, right?"

"I don't know why the hell you think she's stopped. Please help me out Dan, I really want to get it right tomorrow, I don't want to head out feeling—"

"Okay," he glanced to the old man flipping through a magazine and opened the hall door. "You've got ten minutes until my next session. What have you figured out so far?"

They started down the hall, and Weston flipped to the front of Ash's file. "I think she's definitely stuck on her parents separating..."

"Good, now tell me something that isn't nearly as obvious."

"Crap!" Weston looked back. Dan held his office door open for Weston who was flipping back and forth helplessly. Dan seated himself at his desk, smiling like a king seated to his throne, and Weston scuttled to the couch, pulling his hair out with his free hand.

"She's worried about her younger brother, seems like she's taking out frustration about that whole incident out on her classmates...y'know?"

"What has she told you about that?"

"Not too much. The surgery is this week, isn't it?"

"Right, it's today. Carly's tried to schedule that surgery for months now. I think that's the main reason she isn't going to tomorrow's conference, honestly. She really wants to be there for the poor kid."

Weston exhaled a sigh through his nose. "Of course she would, but what about his dad?"

"Carly seems to think he'll show up. I've got hope that he will, too."

"You've got hope in him? The guy sounds like a bit of a bastard from what Ash has told me during sessions..."

"Weston, do you know who we're talking about here?"

"What, would I know him?"

"Luke Simmons...you certainly know him."

"Shit, seriously? I should've guessed! Ash said she hated therapists, and anyone would having two of them for parents." Weston slipped a pen from his chest pocket to make note. Dan was barely present mentally, having decided to begin forming new patient files mid-conversation. Weston smiled as he finished writing and fingered through the many pages he had already written.

"But really, that one surprised me. Luke Simmons—Luke Simmons, seriously, his work is incredible. Do you know what this means? I totally have his daughter as a patient! I could be famous if this gets out!"

"Only our kind treat him as a celebrity. I don't think a random person off the street would even recognize the name Luke Simmons..."

"Don't break my dream, Dan."

"Exactly what is your dream? You've got a thousand of them."

"Actually, my biggest dream is to have Lindsay move into my place."

Dan pulled the stack of post-it's from the end of his desk to the front, and added a tally to his fresh set of tally marks. "Is that so?"

"We've been talking about it this week but she's being iffy about it."

"You're ready to move in with her?"

"Of course, it's been months now! Besides, she's the same as she was years ago when we lived together."

He tapped his pen beside the tally marks as he thought. "Was she stable when you lived together last?"

This question caught Weston off guard. The smile plastered on his face melted away faster than snow on a warm spring afternoon. "Was she...what? What kind of question is that?"

He didn't reply. He had been meaning to ask Weston of Lindsay's stability for some time, and yet each time Weston brought her up, the topic never seemed appropriate. The flurry of tally marks stared him back, reminding him of the many times Weston had mentioned Lindsay where he had failed to bring her mental condition into the conversation.

"Fair enough, I know what you're thinking." Weston enthusiastically pointed his pen to Dan. "You're thinking about that incident that happened back when I went to high school with her, right? But nothing like that ever happened again—besides, it was only brought on because of her sister passing."

"What incident?"

"...You're a sneaky prick!"

"How am I—?"

"Hold up, if you don't know about what happened then what makes you assume she's suicidal? Did she say something?"

"Well, not exactly. It's just an assumption."

"An assumption!" he laughed shortly and stood to leave, closing Ash's file to hold by his side. "Assume what you'd like, but I'm not going to hear this."

Dan blankly watched as his friend began towards the door. The corners of his lips stiffened; he'd never seen Weston angry before. Regardless, he knew he needed an answer, so as Weston took hold of the handle, Dan said "Woah, wait, Wes, at least tell me what happened."

"It's irrelevant anyway! Ask her if you're so curious!"

"Hey, she's obviously not gonna mention it—"

"That's not my problem!"

"It's far from irrelevant though. Any suicidal history is crucial to her diagnosis, and if she's already had a suicide in the family then there's a higher chance that she'd—"

"Oh fuck off with that psychological crap! She's just fine, and I think I'd know that more than you could even begin to understand!"

The door shut loudly behind him after he fled the room, and Dan was left alone to recount his tally marks gloomily.

By the end of the day, Weston had returned to apologize. Dan was in the middle of cleaning away his desk to leave his office when he sauntered in the room. He immediately began "Listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Don't worry about it." Dan shrugged, continuing to stack his books away. "I don't have the right to be asking you, anyway. I'm just concerned, I guess."

Weston slowly nodded, swallowing hard past the knot present in his throat. Dan finished clearing away his desk and headed past Weston towards the door, his drowsy expression glued to the screen of his cheap, outdated flip phone.

"About all that..." Weston followed him uneasily. "I really do think she's stable and all."

"Hmm..." They worked their way down the hall. Dan had not torn his eyes from the screen. "Hey, Weston?"

"...Yeah?"

"How do I get to my voice mail on this thing?"

"Lemme see it."

When he handed Weston the cell phone he burst into laughter. "What is this old thing? You seriously use this as your phone?"

"It's not like I've got anyone to talk to anyway. Just help me out, will you?"

"Alright, alright." it only took him a few quick button clicks. "See, here, just click into your phone history and there's your voice mail."

"Ahh, yeah I get it now." Satisfied, Dan retrieved the phone and pressed it against his ear as the voice mail played back. Weston spoke on about Lindsay, unable to recognize that Dan wasn't listening. When the voice mail finished playing through, they had reached the parking lot, and Dan brought the phone down only to replay the message in disbelief.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow Dan. Will you have your presentation ready by then?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good luck with the touch-ups."

They departed in opposite directions to their cars. It had lightly snowed that morning leaving a small amount of snow rounding the roads in his return home. Dan arrived to his bright green humble abode and climbed out of his car, slamming the door in a hurry causing snow to tumble down from the roof top.

He found Elaine sitting at the kitchen table, her face buried in her arms and her hair blanketed down her back. He edged closer to her and found she was asleep. He noticed the cup of coffee sitting on her graded papers beside a bookmarked novel, spurring him to pour a cup of his own from the freshly brewed pot on the counter. Half way through his cup, Elaine stirred, and within moments she was perked up, awakened. She looked to her left, and then her right; Dan called out to her and she spun around, almost toppling the chair to the ground.

"Dan! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't think—"

He paused as she blushed, reburying her face. He bit his bottom lip, and had a few paces back and forth within the kitchen.

"You got that call too, right?"

"Yeah. The officer said he'd already informed you..."

He sighed. "Right, then what were you thinking? I was thinking that maybe sometime next weekend we could have something arranged."

"A lineup?"

"Yeah. They've got a lot of suspects supposedly..."

"I really don't know if I could..." she lifted her head, almond shaped eyelids widening to meet her husband's tranquil expression.  "It's difficult."

"Difficult?"

"What if I do see the man who hit me at the lineup?"

"He goes to prison, depending. I think he can get up to 20 or 40. They're pretty sure the driver was under the influence or something..."

"40 years? That's quite some time in prison..."

"Doesn't seem like enough if you ask me."

"What about his family? What if he's got children or a wife...what would they do without him?"

He lowered his cup, frowning in confusion. What did she mean? She felt pity for the man who had killed their son? She felt sorry for him, even though he had sped off afterwards without bothering to witness the damage he'd caused?

"Elaine...you've got to be kidding. We have a chance for justice, and that fucker deserves more jail time than the charge they'll nail him with."

"His children would be miserable without him..."

"You don't even know if he's got children, stop it!"

"Dan, I can't go."

"Fuck, El!"

Dan slammed his coffee mug down to the counter and its contents spilled over the side. "I get it, then! You don't care that Dustin's gone. You'll just let the culprit go without punishment."

"How could you say...you know I cared about him. I loved him!"

"Then why—?"

"I can't repeat the cycle—I can't hurt him just because he's hurt me—I—"

Dan had heard enough. He fled from the room, snatching up his coat and worn scarf, ignoring the tip of it trailing behind him on his way to his car. He viciously started the engine, and his rage had seethed to the point he depicted why they'd been nearing divorce in the first place. Occurrences such as that, where Elaine valued a stranger more than herself made Dan think she could care less about herself. She hated herself!

His fingers clenched the steering wheel as he was reminded of how often she would skip her pain medication—and for what? She was only hurting herself. She was depressed, and just as he did, she hid it from him.

He grabbed the gear, prepared to switch it into reverse when he saw Elaine dashing out towards the car. He watched as she made her way down the icy cement, attempting not to slip as she paced his way top speed. Her fractured leg had been improving and it had gotten to the point where she hardly needed her crutches to carry herself. She arrived to his window, and he lowered it for her.

"Dan, please don't leave. Let's talk about this."

"Alright, let's. Why do you hate yourself?"

"Hate myself—? You're one to talk!"

"I'm not the one afraid of having another child!"

She backed away as if she had been slapped, and then she covered her face as it contorted. He recognized he had crossed the line, and his chest ached but his face showed no signs of regret. He flipped the gear into reverse and left Elaine behind, gazing speechlessly.

He lolled himself up at a nearby bar the rest of the night and felt like he had resorted to the state of an immature young man. He debated drinking but knew he had to drive home, so instead he took up a corner of the counter-top to work on rewrites for his presentation.

He couldn't concentrate very well. Elaine kept coming to his mind along with everything she had said.

Dan finally returned home late in the night. Elaine had fallen asleep with the bedroom light on and a textbook sat open beside her; he knew she had been waiting for him to return. He couldn't help but admire her and fiddle with her wavy hair, which didn't wake her.

The following morning he made sure he was awake early so he didn’t have to face Elaine, and he was out the door before she knew he had returned home.

Weston dropped by to greet Dan halfway through their lunch hour. His lunch was set aside on his desk, barely picked at, and his face was sitting in the psychology textbook open on his desk.

"Hey Dan!" he paused for an answer; Dan didn't stir and Weston grew alarmed. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"I'm pretty sure you can't read with your face in the book like that."

"Thanks for the advice."

"How did editing go?"

"It's that folder sitting at the end of my desk. Just take it."

Weston picked up the folder and left Dan to sit alone. He skipped down the halls and slipped behind the secretary's desk to get a better view of the lobby from behind her teller's window.

"Have you seen Lindsay Roland yet?"

The secretary shook her head. "Not yet."

"Well call me when she gets here. We've got a few things to—crap! Ash!"

Weston ducked down and Ash Simmons let the door shut behind her, glaring around the room. She walked to the secretary's desk and couldn't reach but proceeded to check herself in, on the tips of her toes handing the secretary cash. Weston remained unseen other than a few locks of hair from the top of his head that Ash was too short to catch sight of. She finished paying and sat down in the lobby, turning the music to her headphones up so loudly that it was audible to Weston.

He groaned in annoyance and crept out of the secretary's room into the hallway, intending to be invisible until Ash's appointment time.

Ash slumped into the chair and stretched out her legs. Sighing, she pushed the volume up even higher, nearing maximum. After shutting her eyes to allow the music to engulf her, Lindsay Roland walked inside the building. She hesitated to check-in at the secretary's desk upon noticing her to be wrapped up in a phone call and turned to find a seat somewhere in the lobby, opening the paperback novel she held, keeping it an inch from her eyes. Seconds later she was on the ground after tripping over Ash's extended legs.

Ash jumped up, gasping and shouting an obscenity. Lindsay's book flew from her hands during the fall, tumbling to Ash's feet. Ash kicked the book aside, shouting to Lindsay as she nauseously sat upright.

"Watch where you're going, weirdo!"

"I—I'm sorry—"

"What's with the getup? Are you a librarian?"

With her headphones still equipped, Ash failed to notice that her voice had reached a booming echo. Lindsay lowered her head in response, messy bangs covering her embarrassed expression. She reached for her book and hurried away without uttering a word, sitting across the room and hiding her face once more behind the safety her novel provided. Ash raised an eyebrow as she stared.

Lindsay's attire was outdated in terms of fashion—she wore a roomy white turtleneck sweater that dragged to her knees, and faded blue jeans folded above her ankles, revealing white socks along with sneakers grey from dirt. Her winter coat was the only part of her that was current with the times; blue and striped with big cross-hatched buttons. Every so often Lindsay would turn a page of her book, and every moment she found something new to giggle or mumble at.  There were times she talked to herself, as if deciphering the book to a child. Ash became so fascinated by her oddity that she was unable to look away.

Ten minutes passed and Weston walked into the lobby, folder in his hand. He stood at the door and called Ash's name wearily. Ash made no movement, eyes locked on Lindsay as she lowered her book and perked up, standing with a smile, prepared to greet Weston. Weston saw Lindsay and grinned as he headed towards her to meet her half way. Their attempted meet up became disastrous when Ash stuck out her foot causing Lindsay to fall. Weston caught her before she hit the ground.

"Careful!" He helped her up and held her close when she reached her feet.

"Shit, Wes—"

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but—W-Wes, cut that out!"

"Cut what out?"

Lindsay pulled out of his arms, flushed. Ash was laughing as hard as she had been upon Lindsay's initial fall, causing Lindsay to shrivel up, and without her book to hide behind she resorted to using her hands to conceal her embarrassment. Weston attempted to pry her hands away from her face. "Hey, come on, don't let her get to you! She's just a spoiled brat."

"Spoiled?!" Ash yanked a headphone from her ear, jolting upright in her seat. "I'm just having a little fun! She's the one crying over it!"

"She's not crying so can-it!"

"...Hey, you're not supposed to hug patients! It's against therapist rules!"

"She's not my patient in the first place, brat!"

"Stop calling me a brat!"

"Fantastic job you're doing there, Weston."

Dan's voice severed the two from their argument and they turned to see him behind the secretary's desk, handing her patient folders to file. Ash laughed and sped to the secretary's desk, on the tips of her toes to exchange conversation with Dan from the other side of the window.

Weston watched onwards, and Lindsay revealed herself at the speed of a turtle so that she could have the opportunity to view them as well. Weston had stiffened, frowning with his arms crossed in an almost disturbed manner.

"They seem to get along." Lindsay said.

"It's completely unfair." Weston mumbled. "She's always amped up to talk to him. I don't get how he does it."

"Maybe calling her a spoiled brat was a bit much."

"...Damn! Dan's always outdoing me! And that brat's got a two hour session today, I can't stand her!"

"This is the girl you were telling me about a few weeks ago, isn't it? Ash, was it?" Lindsay was still looking ahead while Weston found more entertainment in gazing at Lindsay. He tugged at her coat and said "So you like this coat, right? Because I looked like a weirdo buying it."

"I love it. It's been getting colder lately with all this snow."

"Eh, we don't have it as bad as upstate. Speaking of that, you're still dropping by for Dan's presentation right?"

"Tomorrow, I know."

"Saturday, right! And I can show you around too!"

"I'm sort of new to Psychology though, besides that class we had in high school on it."

"That's what you've got me for. Trust me, it'll be fun!"

Dan soon called Lindsay in for her session, and Weston dragged Ash in for hers, all while she took stab at his strange choice in women.

When the session ended, Weston proudly led Ash out, holding the door for her. Ash scowled and kicked his leg. That did not deter Weston's mood, however; he noted to himself that she hadn't kicked him as hard as she had the week previous.

"Alright kiddo. Can you walk yourself back across the street safely?"

"I'm not a kid! My mom isn't at her office yet, anyway. Can I go visit Dan?"

"He's in a session no doubt. Carly will probably be there soon so come on, I'll walk you to—"

Ash sprinted to Dan's door, knocking so fast that it could have been a woodpecker looking to break and enter. Dan answered with the door cracked open, first catching sight of Weston across the hall before looking down to find his actual visitor.

"Hi Mr. Phillips!"

"No, no, none of that formal garbage. It's just Dan."

"Mr. Dan Phillips?"

"No, just Dan."

"Mr. Just Dan?"

There was the faint sound of giggling from inside his office, and the second Ash heard it she bolted inside, shoving the door back and into Dan's forehead.

"Mrs. Phillips!" Ash threw her arms around Elaine's neck, and she toppled sideways on the couch. "Mrs. Phillips, what are you doing here? Are you getting therapy too?"

"Something along those lines."

"What's that?"

"This is—"

"Woah woah, no you don't!" Dan scooped Ash away from Elaine before she could grasp her hands around the papers Elaine held. "That's for work, you shouldn't be looking."

"How come she's allowed to look?"

"She's only helping me out. I'm stuck with something."

Ash pouted and flailed her arms about until Dan plopped her back onto the couch. "Mrs. Phillips, are you skipping work? I get to skip school to do these stupid things every week!"

Exasperated, she handed the papers to Dan and said "I only skipped the last few hours. I had to finish packing for our trip this weekend."

"Trip?"

"It's a conference I was invited to speak at." Dan jumped into the conversation from his desk, looking smug. Ash rolled her eyes. "You mean that dumb APA conference?"

"Erm, yeah. That."

"My mom got invited to speak but she turned them down. She did the same thing last year!"

"She never was a fan of those conferences."

"Are there really two APAs?"

"Yeah, your mother was probably invited to the psychiatric one. Speaking of her, isn't she waiting for you?"

"Do I—"

"Yes, you have to."

"But—"

"No buts."

"I'll walk her over." Elaine said.

"Ugh!" Ash threw her hands in the air. "I can walk myself over!"

She scoffed loudly when she reached the door and preached "I'm not a kid, okay? I'm 13 now, remember?" and then the door slammed in her wake.

The two later met up with Weston as he was preparing to lock-up early. He waved at them and said "This weekend's gonna be awesome!"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Dan said.

"Your edits were top notch! The crowd will love 'em."

"Thanks. We'll talk about it more at the hotel. Are you taking the main roads?"

"Hell yeah, I already hate long car rides. I get this weird headache." he pressed his hand against his forehead and smiled at Elaine. "Hey Elaine, how's two legs working out for you?"

She didn't respond, yet she was looking directly at him. Weston's insides winced. "Jeez, I was joking around. Don't give me that sad face!"

"You're a good guy, Weston."

"Wha...? Well, I suppose I am..." he looked at Dan. "What's she on about? Did I do something?"

"Ah, naw, you know how she gets. Elaine, can you go make sure everything's secure in the trunk?" he pushed her along a few steps and she left as he instructed. Weston eyed her back, frowning. "I do know how she gets! She usually makes good points."

"Weston, wait a second!" Dan managed to stop him at request. "I need my edits...I wanted El to read them."

"Oh, shit! Sure thing Dan, I think I was about to leave them in my office..."

Weston looked around for the proper key on his keyring as he left the lobby. The subject wasn't mentioned again until they were halfway to their destination, and speaking of the APA reminded Elaine what she had read off of Lindsay's patient file.

"About that file...the part you had circled in red. How did that even come about?"

"Weston has been asking her to move into his place. She's worried because she thinks he'll try to propose if she's living with him. I asked why she was worried about it and...I don't know, she suddenly spilled everything."

"Are you sure Weston doesn't know?"

"He doesn't have a clue. I think he deserves to have had a say—it was his kid too."

"She would have lost the child either way."

"I don't know, I think all the stress brought that on. She shouldn't have broken up with Weston just because she wasn't ready for a kid. I think he would have understood if she'd explained how she felt about it."

Dan didn't know what to think after Lindsay's session, but now that it was hours in the past he thought it was cruel that Lindsay hadn't told Weston why she'd broken it off originally.

It was only a few hours from midnight when they arrived to the hotel. It sat several stories above parked cars and endless miles of thick untouched snow. Dan shook away a creeping anxiety that approached; being in a hotel distanced from society made him unnerved. He knew about the chance that a blizzard was to pass by later that weekend, and imagining being locked in the hotel while it passed panicked him. He sighed, watching the fog his hot breath formed in the coldness of the upper-state climate and opened the trunk of the car.

He closed it immediately, exclaimed "fuck" and fiddled his fingers through his hair. A few moments passed and he reopened the trunk, gazing blankly at their luggage. "Um...El?"

"Yeah?" Elaine put down one of the bags she was holding to join him around the back side of the car. She began to question what was wrong, but saw the issue with her own eyes right away. Amongst several bags in the trunk was Ash Simmons, curled up like a cat, eyes shut and chest rising and falling at a steady pace.

They stood in silence, waiting for their joint hallucination to end. When it didn't, Elaine carefully picked Ash from their luggage and said "Have you checked you phone at all?"

"No." Dan dug in his pockets for it. "I had the damn thing on silent, but I'm sure—" he looked at the screen. "Yeah, 37 missed calls. Carly's lost it."

"Call her back and tell her Ash is safe."

"Holy shit, I can't believe she'd do this." he mumbled as he dialed.

Ash was uninjured besides a little paleness in her face. When she awakened she was ecstatic to see her plan had worked. She hugged Elaine and jumped from her arms to the ground. "Yes! I get to spend the weekend with you, Mrs. Phillips!"

"Why would you worry your mother just to sneak along with us?"

Ash became quiet, glancing over to Dan who had his back turned while he spoke to Carly. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to make her worry...it's just that..."

Ash's eyes began to tear, and she rubbed them away as fast as she could manage. Then she moved closer to Elaine and whispered her explanation in short sentences. It was just as Elaine expected. After a successful session with Weston, Ash felt inspired; she knew she had to visit her father.