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Doctor Williams gracefully sank into her fluffy leather chair, resting her elbows on the arms, her palms touching.
She was a nice looking lady, I thought. I had seen my share of psychiatrists, but this was my first lady shrink. And she was the first decent looking one. Doctor Williams had smooth cocoa skin with totally invisible pores and a cute, round nose, and these thick lips she painted a deep red. It accented the natural flush of her cheeks. Her dark rimmed glasses slipped down of her nose. She pressed them back with two fingers.
The doctor was quietly staring. The hollow sound of her desk drawer rolling open filled the small chamber. A file folder, dictionary thick, plunked onto her desk.
"Avery?"
"That's my name." I crossed my legs, going for nonchalant and failing. The heel of my red flat disembarked, flopping like a slipper on my hanging toes.
"I would like to talk to you about Angel."
"That's why I'm here." I leaned down and tucked the shoe back on my foot, noticing an old-fashioned pocket-watch on the doctors' desk. It was the kind I'd seen in old Westerns, round and gold attached to a long chain.
"How long have you been with her?"
The exact amount of time was pointless. I shook my head. "Since the beginning."
"The beginning of what?"
"Our friendship." I thought over the answer and almost chuckled. Almost. "If that had a beginning. It seems like we've always been friends."
"Angel has told me that the first time she saw you . . . was . . ." she thumbed through some papers in the folder, "the day her mother died."
"Sounds right."
"And what is your relationship with her now?"
My brows tugged together at her very basic question. What had Angel told her about me? "I'm her best friend. I take care of her. She has her foster-mother, but it's not the same. Deanna hasn't known her as long. I'm who she comes to when she needs to vent. I keep her secrets." Why the hell was I telling this woman anything about me?
The smooth skin of the doctors' brow began to furrow before consciously going flat and I reminded myself to watch my words as the low call of sea birds cawed from speakers somewhere behind me.
"What kind of secrets?"
"If I told you, I wouldn't be very trustworthy, would I?"
The doctors' legs, visible beneath the open desk, uncrossed as she leaned forward. "I'm not asking for gory details. Those are right here." She displayed the open file. "What I'm hoping to get from you is more general. I'd like to know if she's safe-if you're worried about her. She didn't attend her final anger management class and I'm supposed to report it. I have cause for concern."
"Maybe you should ask Angel."
"I did."
I nodded. "Good. Why did she miss her class?"
"She said she didn't."
"Maybe she was there, but forgot to sign in. She forgets stuff sometimes."
"A lot of times." Doctor Williams raised a hand to grasp the point of her chin. "Were you with her at all in this past month?"
"I am always with her. Metaphorically."
The gleam in her eye said that she knew I was messing with her. The doctors' dark hands fumbled, feeling around the file folder and scrambling, searching for-as it turned out-a pen. Hasty scribbles began flooding the topmost page on her left.
"I have been talking with Angel about you."
My resting hands balled up into fists, clenching over my lap. "And what did she say about me?"
"Angel spoke very highly of you. When she was actually talking, that is."
