The Venus Fix

Seventy-Four

The whole way back to the office, I forced myself not to turn around to see if anyone was following me. When I got out in front of the office, I didn’t look over my shoulder to search for Terry Meziac. I knew that even if he was following me, he wasn’t there to hurt me, but to scare me. And no one could do that to me anymore.

I was getting a cold and my throat was sore. I wanted to go home and crawl into bed. Instead, I popped a throat lozenge, made some tea and saw my next patient. And then the next. I was waiting for Blythe when Allison called. “I forgot to tell you, the day you were out-yesterday-Blythe canceled, and I gave a new patient her spot. She’s on her way up.”

Moments later, Amanda stood at the door to my office, snow dripping off her boots and melting in her hair. There were bright spots in the middle of her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to cross the threshold.

“You can come in,” I said, encouraging her. “It’s okay. I’m really glad to see you.”

Tentatively, she took a small step forward. Her skinny body was wrapped up in a big black down coat, and she had her suede boots on her feet. She left melting snow in her wake.

Once inside, she froze again, holding her knapsack close to her chest and looking at me as if asking me to get up and usher her farther in.

“Take off your coat-it’s warm in here.”

She took one cautious step after another, as if she were walking on a bed of nails. Finally, she made it inside and over to the couch, where she shrugged out of her coat and sat on it. She went through that whole maneuver without letting go of the knapsack.

“Me being here, it’s a secret, right? Like at school?”

“Yes. Completely.”

Despite my response, Amanda didn’t relax.

“Do I have to pay you?”

“We can work that out later, okay?”

She nodded.

“This is harder than you thought it was going to be, isn’t it?”

She nodded again.

“What did you think it was going to be like?”

“I was hoping that somehow you’d know what I wanted to tell you, and I wouldn’t have to say anything.”

I laughed. “I think all my patients wish that I could read their minds and they wouldn’t have to talk. But I can’t, so you’re going to have to tell me. I can promise you, though, that I won’t be shocked or surprised, and I won’t judge you.”

“I know that from what goes on at school.”

I nodded and waited. Amanda still hadn’t looked around at all. Her fingers had not loosened from the knapsack strap. A few seconds went by. And then a few more. She started to play with the tab on the zipper, teasing it up an inch and then rezipping it.

As much as I wanted to coax her, I didn’t want to scare her off. Not when she had come this far.

Finally: “This is really complicated, Dr. Snow. It has to do with things that no one knows about.” She frowned. “Well, some people know but…”

“Do your parents know?”

She shook her head adamantly.

“Okay. They won’t find out. Not unless you want to tell them yourself.”

She wasn’t listening to me anymore but staring intently at a glass box that hung on the wall behind my desk. Inside was an iridescent blue butterfly, a gift from Nina.

“That’s weird,” she whispered.

“What is?”

“That you have a butterfly like that.”

“Why?”

“Do you like them?”

I nodded. She looked around my office now and noticed the butterfly print on the wall and the glass butterfly paperweight on my desk. Her expression became tortured. Without saying anything, she stood, reached down for her coat, muttered a few unintelligible words and ran out of my office.