Diana Racine 02 - Goddess of the Moon

pictured him focused on her lips. “Yes, Daisy’s my eyes.”
    “Good, thanks.”
    “A question, Detective McCallister. Have you considered a cochlear implant?”
    “A gun shot off near my ear during the takedown of a meth lab. Most of the auditory nerve fibers were destroyed, making the effectiveness of an implant questionable. I’m still seeing specialists.”
    “I wouldn’t give up. Improvements are being made every day.”
    “When I learned about this session, I researched you. Your résumé’s impressive.”
    She ignored the personal reference. Some patients used the ploy to shift focus. “Quite a résumé yourself, especially your anti-drug work with kids in the projects.”
    “Don’t tell me the dog reads too.”
    Abby smiled at the image. “She’s pretty amazing, but no. I have a screen reader program on my computer that audibly reads what’s on the screen, then I print it on a Braille embosser. It’s the blind equivalent of texting.” Back to you, Detective.
    “It’s weird to carry a phone I can’t hear, but texting keeps me connected.”
    “Because technology has opened new worlds for the disabled, and a deaf patient who can’t speak can text me, and my phone converts the text to speech. This was unheard of years back. I can hardly keep up with the advances.”
    “I’m big on email, too.” McCallister hesitated. “This is a new world for me, and if I’m being honest I’m not sure I’m up to it.”
    McCallister’s revealing admission took Abby by surprise. She expected an hour’s tug of war, but by session’s end, he’d allowed some barriers to tumble. She fingered her watch. One more probing question. “What’s been your darkest thought, Detective?”
    He paused, but not for long.
    “Eating my gun.”
    * * * * *
    E llie breezed through the door as soon as McCallister left. “Well, what did you think?”
    Abby’s fingertips skimmed the Braille printout of her next patient. She lifted her head in Ellie’s direction. “About what?”
    “You know, about Mr. Gorgeous.”
    “He’s a patient, Ellie, off limits except for therapy. Besides, I have only your word he’s good looking, not that it makes a difference.”
    “I didn’t say good looking. He’s better than that. Wait a minute.” She called to the outer office, “Cleo, come here. Tell Abby what Detective McCallister looks like.”
    Abby wanted to stop this discussion, but Cleo’s rolling chair moved back, and she entered the office. “Hunky. Six feet plus, cerulean eyes, and a body Calvin Klein would photograph in his tiniest bikini briefs.”
    “You must have X-ray vision to get that picture,” Abby said. “And cerulean? Good thing you weren’t paying attention. Dare I ask if he had any birthmarks?” She shuffled some papers to determine their order. “Anyway, I couldn’t care less. He’s a patient. It wouldn’t matter if he were a Greek god or Quasimodo; I wouldn’t know the difference. Stop trying to fix me up. You both know strict rules apply between therapist and patient.”
    Ellie leaned in close. “You need a man in your life, Abby, and this guy is all man.”
    A wave of sadness hit Abby as she thought back to the man who’d changed her life so irrevocably. “I’ve had a man in my life. One was enough, thank you.” She could almost sense the exchange of raised eyebrows and shrugs. “Now, can we get our minds off men’s butts and get back to business?”
    “You still didn’t tell me what you thought of him.”
    The last hour had generated a few silences, and now Abby contributed one more. She found Luke McCallister interesting, no question. The description of his looks meant nothing. No longer influenced by appearances, she found the tone of a voice and the inflections of a person’s words revealed more than any visual. The cop showed a better grasp of his problems than most, but knowing them solved only part of the dilemma. She needed to convince him he still had value, even if in a different capacity than before he lost his hearing.
    “I thought of him only as a patient,” Abby said, answering Ellie’s question. “Anything else would be inappropriate.”
    But Detective McCallister isn’t quite ready to face the facts of his life, and I don’t want to be anywhere near him when the volcano erupts.

Acknowledgments

    To my good friend and critique partner, Ellis Vidler , for her constant support, encouragement, and generosity. She’s forgotten more about writing than I’ll