Incubus Dreams - Laurell K. Hamilton [109]
“There are good therapists out there, Ronnie. I just don’t get to meet many on the job.”
“Have you gone to see a therapist behind my back?”
I thought about that, then said, “I finally realized that what I was going to Marianne for was only partially to learn how to control my psychic abilities. People in New York go to see their witches instead of their therapists. I’ve just decided to be ahead of the crowd.”
“Who do you know in New York?”
“Another animator, and vampire executioner. She said that going to a therapist who was a witch meant she didn’t have to spend time explaining magic or psychic stuff to them, because they already knew it. She’d had some of the same problems I’d had over the years with going to my priest or a regular therapist. I mean, my dad took me to one when I was in my early teens. The therapist tried to help me with my latent issues with my mother’s death and my dad’s remarriage, but he wouldn’t believe that I could raise the dead by accident. He kept trying to tell me that I was doing it on purpose to get back at Judith and my father.”
“You never told me that,” she said.
“It was after the therapist told my dad that I was ‘evil’ that he contacted Grandma Flores and got some help that at least understood what I was going through.”
“So you knew when you started with Marianne it was therapy?”
“No, of course not, I’d never have done it that way.”
She smiled. “That’s the Anita I’ve come to love and know.”
I smiled back. “Even now it makes me grumpy to admit it out loud, and you’re the only person I’ve told, though I think Micah suspects. I’m getting easier to live with, something has to be responsible.”
“It’s really helped?” she asked.
I nodded.
“You think I should go down to Tennessee?”
“I think you should try something closer to home. You don’t have the same issues that I do. A therapist isn’t going to tell you that you’re wrong, or evil, or simply not believe you.”
“Are you telling me my problems are mundane?”
“Unless you have a problem with Louie being furry once a month, yeah they’re mundane.”
She frowned, and dragged her coffee cup back toward her. “Not really, I mean I’ve seen the whole show, and I don’t do animals. He’s okay with that, because most nonshifters draw the line at doing their significant others in animal form. You know it can be transferred via sex in animal form, if the sex is rough and you get some fluid in an abrasion.” She said it like a lecture, or a warning, without thinking about it.
“I did know that.”
“Oh, sorry, you’re the preternatural expert, not me.” Again, that trace of bitterness. When had she first gotten mad at me? How far back did it go?
“No, really, Ronnie, it’s good to share information when you know someone else is dating the lunarly challenged.”
She looked up then. “Did you just say ‘lunarly challenged’?”
I nodded. “The latest PC phrase.”
“Since when have you been PC?”
“Since I heard the phrase and thought it was funny as hell.” I was still leaning against the cabinet, because there was way more anger in her toward me than I understood. The vampire thing I could sort of understand, but her problems with me letting men into my life, that seemed harder to work around.
“Lunarly challenged, I’ll have to tell Louie. He’ll get a kick out of it.” The moment she said it, her face fell, and the weight of it all came crashing down on her. “Oh, shit, Anita, what am I going to do?”
“I don’t know.” I came back to sit at the table and patted her hand. If it had been Catherine, she’d probably be clinging to me for support, but Ronnie had my issues on closeness, so we didn’t hug as much. Alright, Ronnie had my old issues on closeness, except about sex. I’d never understood why if you don’t want someone hugging you for comfort that you’d be okay with fucking them, but that was just me.
“I don’t want him just gone from my life, but I’m not ready