Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [1]
“A feeling of isolation. An awareness that people are upset by your actions, or missing you. Okay, let's talk about that dream. Who was crying?”
“Shit.” Meghann should have seen that. After all, she had an undergraduate degree in psychology. Not to mention the fact that she'd once been called a child prodigy.
She glanced down at her platinum-and-gold watch. “Too bad, Harriet. Time's up. I guess we'll have to solve my pesky neuroses next week.” She stood up, smoothed the pant legs of her navy Armani suit. Not that there was a wrinkle to be found.
Harriet slowly removed her glasses.
Meghann crossed her arms in an instinctive gesture of self-protection. “This should be good.”
“Do you like your life, Meghann?”
That wasn't what she'd expected. “What's not to like? I'm the best divorce attorney in the state. I live—”
“—alone—”
“—in a kick-ass condo above the Public Market and drive a brand-new Porsche.”
“Friends?”
“I talk to Elizabeth every Thursday night.”
“Family?”
Maybe it was time to get a new therapist. Harriet had ferreted out all of Meghann's weak points. “My mom stayed with me for a week last year. If I'm lucky, she'll come back for another visit just in time to watch the colonization of Mars on MTV.”
“And Claire?”
“My sister and I have problems, I'll admit it. But nothing major. We're just too busy to get together.” When Harriet didn't speak, Meghann rushed in to fill the silence. “Okay, she makes me crazy, the way she's throwing her life away. She's smart enough to do anything, but she stays tied to that loser campground they call a resort.”
“With her father.”
“I don't want to discuss my sister. And I definitely don't want to discuss her father.”
Harriet tapped her pen on the table. “Okay, how about this: When was the last time you slept with the same man twice?”
“You're the only one who thinks that's a bad thing. I like variety.”
“The way you like younger men, right? Men who have no desire to settle down. You get rid of them before they can get rid of you.”
“Again, sleeping with younger, sexy men who don't want to settle down is not a bad thing. I don't want a house with a picket fence in suburbia. I'm not interested in family life, but I like sex.”
“And the loneliness, do you like that?”
“I'm not lonely,” she said stubbornly. “I'm independent. Men don't like a strong woman.”
“Strong men do.”
“Then I better start hanging out in gyms instead of bars.”
“And strong women face their fears. They talk about the painful choices they've made in their lives.”
Meghann actually flinched. “Sorry, Harriet, I need to scoot. See you next week.”
She left the office.
Outside, it was a gloriously bright June day. Early in the so-called summer. Everywhere else in the country, people were swimming and barbecuing and organizing poolside picnics. Here, in good ole Seattle, people were methodically checking their calendars and muttering that it was June, damn it.
Only a few tourists were around this morning; out-of-towners recognizable by the umbrellas tucked under their arms.
Meghann finally released her breath as she crossed the busy street and stepped up onto the grassy lawn of the waterfront park. A towering totem pole greeted her. Behind it, a dozen seagulls dived for bits of discarded food.
She walked past a park bench where a man lay huddled beneath a blanket of yellowed newspapers. In front of her, the deep blue Sound stretched along the pale horizon. She wished she could take comfort from that view; often, she could. But today, her mind was caught in the net of another time and place.
If she closed her eyes—which she definitely dared not do—she'd remember it all: the dialing of the telephone number, the stilted, desperate conversation with a man she didn't know, the long, silent drive to that shit-ass little town