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Liisa frowns. “Being part of some collective?”
Holly shakes her head, but before she can say anything, Baljit says, “Acceptance, right?”
“Exactly,” Holly says, wondering if Baljit is thinking of her father. “And after the ketamine, did you notice an effect on your compulsions? Your cravings?”
“Totally,” Simon says with a deferential nod to Reese. “Like she said, it kind of settled the urges. Took away that hunger.”
“Yes!” Salvador cries. “The horrible itch is gone. Or at least, manageable. Thank goddess! I can finally focus on work again. And just in time!”
“I fell off the wagon,” Reese blurts.
All eyes in the room dart to her. “After the ketamine?” Holly asks.
“No, right before.” Reese studies her hands. “The night before the infusion, of all days. I had some intense deadlines at work and I just… I bought a bottle of vodka on the way home. The guy at my local liquor store greeted me like some returning war hero. I had three—no, four—shots before I went to bed.”
Holly leans toward her. “It’s OK, Reese. There’s nothing short about this journey.”
“Totally.” Simon thumps his armrest. “When we started this, I doubt any of us expected to make it as long as you did.”
“It’s true.” Salvador nods vehemently. “Especially after we had to pause the psychedelics.”
“I must’ve driven past the casino ten times in the past week,” Baljit admits. “I even parked in the lot for ten minutes the other night and just stared at the entrance. If it wasn’t for my kid’s stupid ballet practice, I’d have fallen off the wagon, too. Guaranteed.”
Reese nods her appreciation without looking up. “I’m just… I’d hoped for better, is all.”
“Have you drunk again since our ketamine session?” Holly asks.
Reese shakes her head.
“See!” Salvador says. “It’s all you needed. A reset. Like the rest of us.”
Simon strums a hand in the air. “Just a speed bump on the journey. Forgotten before you reach home.”
Baljit eyes him suspiciously. “Isn’t that a line from one of your own songs?”
Simon drops his hand to his side. “Can I help it if I sing the truth?”
Baljit snorts. “Or you did in 1979, anyway.”
“I think we’re digressing here,” Holly says. “Let’s focus on how you felt before and after the ketamine infusion.”
The energetic discussion continues for another fifteen minutes, until time is up, but the one who’s usually the most animated contributes nothing.
Although aware of JJ’s silence during the session, Holly never called upon her. But as the others are filing out of the room, she asks, “JJ, can I have a quick word?”
She hesitates at the door. “My day is jam-packed, Dr. Danvers.”
With what, foundation lunches and cocktail parties? Holly wonders ungenerously, before catching herself. “Please, JJ. It’ll only take a minute or two.”
“All right.” JJ trudges back to the recliner and sits down, looping her handbag over the armrest.
Holly closes the door behind them and then sits down across from her. “I just wanted to talk to you about our session.”
JJ shakes her head. “I don’t remember it.”
“Nothing?”
“I remember you putting the IV in my arm. And the next thing I know I’m sitting back in the waiting room, feeling kind of groggy and nauseous. And you’re telling me I had a bad trip.”
