by JoAnn Durgin
“No, but a very special lady made it for her mommy and she loaned it to me.” Jackson wasn’t sure why he used that term since Serenity more or less gave it to him. Still, she might change her mind and want Arnie back eventually since he obviously meant a lot to her. Several of his other patients had also noticed the giraffe. As Serenity had predicted, Arnie was a great conversation starter.
Justin tilted his head to one side. “What does loaned mean?”
Mrs. Johnson spoke up again. “It means his friend gave Arnie to Jackson to keep for a little while, but she wants him back sometime.” Her voice sounded tight, bothered somehow.
Justin looked over at her as he returned to his chair and plopped into it. On this, their second visit, Mrs. Johnson again wore the oversized sunglasses that swallowed half her face. In her sleeveless dress, her thin, tanned arms revealed no external bruising or marks of any kind. The lift of her chin, the squared shoulders and proper posture spoke volumes. She didn’t speak much, but when she did, she made intelligent comments occasionally laced with dry humor. When they’d arrived a few minutes earlier, Mrs. Johnson had handed the paperwork he requested to Mrs. Lange. He suspected the forms would be incomplete, but he’d deal with it. He was too intrigued by Justin and wanted to learn more.
“You always tell me I can keep what you give me,” Justin said, frowning. He eyed the open bag of gummi worms on the desk.
“Help yourself.” As usual, he fished out the cherry ones. Leaning his head against the chair, Justin tilted his chin to the ceiling and lowered one into his mouth. Chomping on the treat, he grinned at Jackson, his dimples deepening.
“So, what do you think of Croisette Shores?” Jackson said. “Do you like it here?”
The boy nodded with enthusiasm. “I like the beach. Nana got me a sand pail and we made a sand castle.”
“That sounds like fun.” Jackson’s gaze slanted to Mrs. Johnson, but her chair was empty. “Excuse me a minute. Here, have another gummi worm. Or two.” Strolling to the outer office, he glanced around the reception area. Mrs. Lange sat reading a book at her desk. Startled, she closed it with a guilty look. “It’s okay,” Jackson said to reassure her. “Mrs. Johnson disappeared. Have you seen her?”
Mrs. Lange pointed to the bathroom. “She darted in there a couple of minutes ago.”
“Thanks.” Deep in thought, Jackson grabbed one of the children’s books from the small bookcase in the lobby. Returning to the inner office, he dropped the book in Justin’s hands. “Why don’t you show me how well you can read until Mrs. Johnson gets back?” Settling in the chair beside Justin, his thoughts were miles away.
The glance Justin gave him was equal parts confusion and smirk. “Why do you keep calling her that?”
Jackson leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. His pulse raced. “Because that’s her name.”
“No, it’s not.” The child buried his head in the book, but he peeked at Jackson with an impish grin.
This session was getting more interesting by the minute. Jackson swallowed hard, knowing he should stop and not take this conversation further. Mrs. Johnson made it clear from the outset she was to be in the room at all times during their sessions. No way could Justin know or understand it, but he’d thrown down the gauntlet and Jackson wasn’t about to stop him now.
“She’s my Nana, but her name’s...”
“Justin, why don’t you wait for me outside with Mrs. Lange?” Standing in the doorway, one hand on the door, Mrs. Johnson’s face was drawn. Reminded Jackson of the time he’d been sent to the principal’s office in grade school. But he’d done nothing wrong this time, unlike his childish prank in fifth grade. He met her gaze head-on, refusing to feel or act guilty.
“Our visit with Dr. Ross is over, but I need to talk with him in private for a minute.”
Justin pouted. “But we’ve—”
“Now, young man.” Her voice, although calm, was unyielding as Justin scrambled down from the chair.
Jackson watched in silence as she closed the door behind the boy. Walking around the desk, he motioned for her to be seated in the chair he’d vacated.
“No thanks, I’ll stand,” she said. “I’ll get straight to the point. What gives you the right to question Justin when I’m not present?”
“With all due respect, I didn’t ask. Justin freely offered the information.” Since he probably wouldn’t see them again, Jackson figured he might as well speak his mind. “Why did you leave the room? You set the rules and specified you were always to be present during our sessions.”
Frowning, she crossed her arms and turned her head. “I should think that would be obvious.”
“The session’s only thirty minutes. Couldn’t you wait?” That comment only made him sound like a jerk. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d left the room and mentioned your name. Now that it’s come up, we might as well discuss it. Are you denying you’re Justin’s grandmother?”
Mrs. Johnson released an exasperated sigh and uncrossed her arms. Walking over to the bookcase, she picked up Arnie and turned him in her hands, examining the bottom for a prolonged moment. “If I’m going to continue bringing him to see you, I want your word you won’t try to pry information out of him. I don’t want him upset.”
Jackson bit back a sharp comment. “Of course, I’ll give you my word. As long as you understand in my profession there’s a fine line between prying and the inherent right to know. He wasn’t upset in the least. Remember, you came to me and he’s my patient, not you. If you don’t want him upset, you might consider telling your grandson why you use a fake name.”
She gasped. “That’s none of your business!”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. This woman—with all her secrets and mystery—was his most unique yet difficult challenge. “I beg to differ since you’ve come to me for guidance. Dishonesty is annoying enough for adults but incredibly disingenuous when dealing with a child. Kids expect honesty and can slice through insincerity and lies faster than anything. It’s not fair to them and they deserve better, especially from the people they trust.”
The muscles in her jaws twitched. “Justin understands the reasons and they in no way affect what I’ve asked you to do for him.”
“They definitely affect his past and it impacts our sessions as a direct result.”
She seemed startled. “But it’s your responsibility to help me deal with Justin’s future, not his past. Isn’t that correct?”
Jackson tried to contain his aggravation, not sure he succeeded. “We’re going in circles here. Do me a favor, please. Would you please remove your sunglasses?”
In a sharp movement, she turned her head toward him again. “I hardly see how that matters.”
“If you won’t comply, then I want your word neither you nor Justin have been abused in some way.”
She scoffed. “The answer to that is a definitive no. As you said, I’m not your patient, Dr. Ross. I’m equally sure I could bring you up on charges for harassment to whatever board oversees the professional ethics of South Carolina psychologists or mental health professionals.”
“For simply asking you to remove your sunglasses and asking for reassurance you haven’t been abused?” Jackson kept his eyes trained on her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I hardly believe that’s a crime.” To her credit, she didn’t turn away, but a sudden urge seized him to yank those ridiculous sunglasses from her head. The desire to get a good look at her eyes was at the top of the list. Not to mention it’d also put her facial features into perspective.
“I don’t think you’ll file charges against me, and I’ll tell you why,” he said. “It’s clear you’re hiding your true identity for reasons known only to you at this point.” Pushing out of the chair, he walked across the room. “For one thing, if you do file charges, your identity will be revealed and I’m pretty sure—based on your behavior—you’d like to avoid that. So, it’s your call. Take your pick.”
“All right.” With a deep sigh, she replaced Arnie on the
shelf. He wondered why she’d picked it up, what ran through her mind when she looked at the inscription on the bottom. “Justin likes you, so I’ll continue to bring him here. You’ve earned his trust. I’d like you to start preparing him—mentally and emotionally—to reconnect with his...family.”
“What can you tell me about them?” he asked.
“Why do you need to know?”
Again, Jackson tried not to show his aggravation with the guessing games she put him through, making his job that much more challenging. “I won’t ask for actual names, but I’d like to know if they’re aunts, uncles, grandparents or whatever. Can you tell me that much?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “Very well. Next visit.”
“Fine. Does Justin know about these relatives?”
“Yes.” The word was barely more than a whisper, so soft he had to lean closer to hear it.
“I have one more question for you,” he said. “Why me? If you’re in no hurry, Dr. Rasmussen will be back soon enough and he’ll be practicing for another year before he retires.”
“I should think that would also be obvious.” Retrieving her handbag from the floor by her chair, she slung it over her shoulder and appeared prepared to bolt.
“It’s not or I wouldn’t have asked.” He couldn’t begin to second guess this woman.
“Let’s just say I’d rather not involve Phil Rasmussen. And, with all due respect, why not you? You’re not doubting your ability to help us, are you, Dr. Ross?”
Was she teasing him? Hard to tell.
“Fair enough. Just do me a favor and don’t leave the office during our sessions. Save yourself some trouble and visit the ladies room before coming into the office, Mrs. Johnson.” She was an intelligent woman, and he suspected the meaning of his thinly-disguised—albeit bad—pun hadn’t escaped her understanding.
“We’ll see you next week,” she said, ducking her head and departing, but not before Jackson heard what sounded suspiciously like soft laughter. Laughter? He hadn’t thought it possible.
Perhaps he was getting somewhere, after all.
~CHAPTER 11~
“What’s up with you and the most gorgeous child psychologist in the land?”
Serenity looked up from her paperwork as Deidre waved at Kelsie and sashayed through her half-open office door on Wednesday afternoon. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“Why would I do that?” Deidre’s deep southern accent dripped with affection as she sat down in the chair in front of her desk. “As your oldest and dearest friend, not to mention I’m now your landlord, I’ve earned certain rights and privileges. It works both ways, you know. Feel free to drop in at my office any old time you please. Knocking’s not a requirement.”
“Want some coffee or a cup of water? I got my new water cooler today.” Serenity laughed. “Funny the things that make me happy these days. I must be getting old.”
“Never. Fill me in, please. I need details about you and Dr. Ross-a-licious.” She leaned closer, putting one well-manicured hand on the desk.
Serenity couldn’t hide her grin. “Don’t get your hopes up, Deidre. There’s nothing to tell.”
Deidre sat back in her chair, skepticism written all over her pretty face as her pink-rouged lips upturned. “Nothing, you say? That’s not what I hear around town, girlfriend. The good old boys’ club down at Martha’s is laying odds on how long until your big wedding.” Dressed in what must be the latest designer label, Deidre’s hair and makeup were always perfect without looking overdone. In spite of appearances, she was one of the most down-to-earth, approachable women Serenity had ever known.
“Even if we were a couple, what are the odds on how long it’ll take to get to matrimony? Oh wait, I should get pregnant first.” Serenity cringed. Ouch. It was bad enough to think it, but she really should think before speaking her mind. “Sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed. “I’m trying to work on my sarcasm.” Being around her crotchety father hadn’t helped her disposition.
“Get over yourself, honey. You’re not the only girl in the history of Croisette Shores to get pregnant before you were married and you won’t be the last. It happens in the best of families. If you want me to start naming names, I will, and I’m sure some of them will shock you. Shock you! You loved Danny and you married him.” Deidre’s cheeks colored and she twirled a short dark curl around her finger. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringing up the past.”
“It’s okay,” Serenity said. “No sense in burying it. It’s time to face what happened five years ago and try to make sense of it all.”
“No luck in finding out who wrote that note, huh?”
Serenity shook her head. “You, me and the person who wrote it are the only ones who know. Since I started working, I haven’t had time to think much about it.”
“How many clients do you have now?”
“Four, including Jackson.”
“Great! Now we’re getting somewhere. Glad to hear you’re on a first-name basis with the psychologist. That’s a good start.”
She ignored Deidre’s raised brow. “Back to the note, please. You saw it, and it wasn’t threatening in any way. Still, I can’t help but wonder why the sender hasn’t stepped forward to tell me what he—or she—knows.”
A frown creased Deidre’s brow. “Could be their motive was to get you back home and, if that’s the case, their plan certainly worked. You’re positive your dad didn’t write it?”
“I’m sure as I can be. You should have seen him when I was at the house the other day. He was as sentimental as I’ve seen him since Mama disappeared. In-between all his raspy coughs and blowing out smoke, he was actually very sweet and told me he was glad I was back home even though he didn’t know why.”
“Didn’t know why he was glad?”
“No,” Serenity said with a small laugh. “Didn’t know what brought me back home. That’s how I know he couldn’t have written the note.”
Deidre brightened. “How about Charlie?”
“That’s a possibility. I saw him at the beach Sunday afternoon and almost asked him then. I can’t explain it, but something stopped me.”
“What? God?” Deidre’s question sounded so spontaneous and innocent, it almost made her laugh.
“I don’t really know. Charlie and I had a nice talk and he told me he’s praying for me to find my answers. Told me he’s been praying for me a long time.”
“Well, you know I’m generally not a praying kind of gal, but you can count on me to put in a good word.” Scooting closer to the desk, Deidre’s grin widened. “Not to change the subject, but it’s time to tell me more about you and the handsome doctor.” Deidre used to compare every guy to the men in her mother’s romance novels, the ones she’d been forbidden to read but snuck under the covers and devoured anyway. She’d enlightened a number of the girls in their class, including Serenity, about the ways of the world and the facts of life. Only problem was, most of the guys they knew paled in comparison to the tall, chiseled and passionate yet sensitive men in those books. Deidre had always liked Danny, though. Likewise, Serenity adored Wes and she’d been Deidre’s maid of honor in her wedding the year after they graduated from high school.
“Jackson’s wonderful, and he’s becoming a good friend. I thought about showing him the note, but I’m not sure if I should.”
Deidre leaned her chin on one hand. “I’m listening.”
“You sound like that radio personality with the saccharine, velvety-smooth voice that drives me crazy. Jackson’s been nothing but kind. He’s a complete gentleman, polite to senior citizens and kids and perfect—”
“Yeah, he’s a real saint,” Deidre interrupted, waving her hand. “I’m sure he’s a friend to all mankind and animals, to boot. Not to discount those fine qualities, but is there any heat between you two? You know, the sizzling stuff that curls your hair and fogs your imaginary glasses?”
Serenity smiled. “I’ll admit there’s an attraction, but more than that, I like t
he way he looks at me, Deidre. It’s like he wants to know everything about me. Jackson’s sensitive, caring and has a great sense of humor. He makes me laugh and he really listens, you know? Like a friend and not just because he’s a psychologist. Even though my history’s not pretty, somehow I don’t think it’d change his opinion or the way he treats me. For all I know, he does know my history since a lot of people in this town seem to have loose lips. Present company excluded, of course.”
“Well, he’s quite the man,” Deidre said. “All that, gorgeous eyes, a head of hair most men only dream of, and muscles that won’t quit. What’s not to love?” Shifting in her chair, Deidre gave her a sly grin. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Ross yet, but I’ve seen him from a distance. I swear the man’s like a magnet. Not to mention half the women in town are chattering about him.”
“I’ll be happy to arrange an introduction. Do your kids need a psychologist to help them cope with their mother?”
“Very funny. You know I believe my Wes hung the moon, but Jackson’s got even old, blind-as-a-bat Mrs. Alston primping before church on Sundays. Cheryl Jenkins at the bank puts out extra mints at her station hoping he’ll come over to her window. I heard Marcy Watkins actually shoved another cashier out of the way at McHenry’s so she’d check out the doctor, in more ways than one. And then there’s—”
“I get your point,” Serenity said. “Jackson’s the best thing to hit Croisette Shores since the last royal graced our shores. Whenever that was. For all I know, it’s a fabricated legend, anyway.”
“It’s a fact and you know it or else all our teachers in grade school were seriously delusional. Don’t get off topic, girlfriend.” Crossing her arms on the desk, Deidre leaned closer. “Has Jackson asked you out yet?”
