Chapter 9.7

Sitting by the exit was a small wastebin, nearly full of small paper cups and used tissues. As Mitch passed it, he discarded the one that he clutched for the last 45 minutes, and it felt like letting go of a security blanket.

He lingered on the front steps and fidgeted with the edges of the appointment card that Ann gave him. The back end of Jodie’s car was visible from his position, but he needed another minute to collect himself. Wiping away stray tears, he went to pull out a cigarette until he spotted the ‘No Smoking’ sign, then abandoned the idea.

He was numb, but in a way that was nebulous; neither good nor bad, but the polar opposite of how he usually coped via shutting down. This time, it was as if he’d been force fed Drano, leaving him hollow and unsure what to make of anything.

But his legs moved of their own accord, towards the car to where Jodie waited. As soon as he was inside and buckled up, the density of the air increased tenfold. Jodie waited for a short stretch, then quietly said, “Hey.”

“Hi,” he greeted back, throat still raw. His eyesight was fixed out the window, on nothing in particular. All of his limbs, even the arm in the sling, were as rigid as boiled pasta. Something was placed in his lap, but it took a moment for it to register. When his attention drifted down, and he spotted familiar gray fabric.

“Thought you might want an old friend,” Jodie mentioned. Mitch put a hand on top of Cendre’s head, then pulled the stuffed rabbit into a tight hug. Shifting into drive, she drove until they reached the end of the street before asking, “You alright?”

Mitch let the question swirl and clink around in his head like ice in a glass of whiskey before answering with, “Yes? No?”

“Yeah,” nodded Jodie.

“You were right, though.”

“About?”

“I cried a bunch about my parents.” He burst out laughing, disregarding the inappropriate timing.

“Fuckin’ told you!” She slapped the steering wheel in triumph, although the victory was bittersweet. Still, Mitch appreciated the bit of normality where he could get it.

“Or like, my mom, rather,” he continued. “Can’t exactly cry about someone that hasn’t been around since I was four.” The tension percolated between them the moment he made that quip, and he could physically feel Jodie shoving words through a fine mesh filter. “Oh my god, just say it,” he urged.

“Really?”

“Please.”

“I mean, he’s been a little preoccupied.” She left it at that.

“Well maybe he shouldn’t have fled his fuckin’ country when he had an arrest warrant!” His jaw clenched, and the urge to slam strike the dashboard was barely contained. “I get why, OK! I’ve made peace with it. But then he went and knocked up my mom! If he didn’t, we’d both be less-” He blew a raspberry, too riled up to form full sentences. “I mean, it’s cool and all that he made a…what’s the phrase?”

“Made an honest woman out of her?”

“That’s so gross,” he grimaced. “But like- wait no, I just went through this in therapy, with my therapist. I’m not rehashing this right now.”

“You brought it up!” She retorted with indignation. “You get a pass for first time post-therapy brain mush, but you brought it up! Don’t get upset at me!” 

“Look, I got mush! Don’t encourage it further!” he shouted, and weakly shoved at her shoulder; she made no effort to defend herself.

“So uh. You like your therapist? ‘Cause I know you’ve never done this as a grown up. And sometimes it takes a few sessions to feel it out, but it’s like any other relationship, y’know?”

Mitch glanced over at her, sensing the concern that simmered below her calm veneer. Always wary of anyone new that came into his life, yes, he worried; but he’d been the one to seek out Ann, not the other way around. And although it’d only been one session, her warmth radiated within him, despite no longer being in her presence. He smiled, and after careful consideration, responded with, “I think I do, yeah.”

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