Diane hung up.
I searched the notepad for my phone number. I dialed the number. I hung up when the answering machine picked up. I dialed the Ortolan's number only to slam the receiver down before it rang. I glared at the phone. My father's banging Diane Ortolan. My father is fucking the mother of my girlfriend - the love of my life. The humanity! Sleep didn't come easily that night.
I have a thing for my shrink, Krista. Maybe because she reminds me of Diane - always in control of her thoughts and emotions, sure of her opinions. Did I mention her eyes melt me? Maybe I have a thing for older women. Whatever it is, I hang on her every word. She had to know she could look at me crooked and send me reeling. "You judge yourself way too hard. Relax, go easy on yourself. You're a delightful person. You have a wonderful personality."
"It's your job to say that."
"No, I'm saying that because it's the truth."
"If I'm such a wonderful person fix me up with your daughter?"
"Absolutely not," she said without batting an eyelash.
"Why not? You tell me that I'm a delightful person, I have a great personality."
"A wonderful personality," she corrected.
"Whatever. The point is if I'm the wonderful person you say and not the brain damaged sped that I really am, why wouldn't you set me up with your daughter?"
"Because my daughter is two years old."
My sessions with Krista were always eventful, especially when she brought up my father sleeping with Diane.
"How do you know that I know that they're sleeping together?"
"Diane approached me," Krista answered.
"So? What's the big deal?"
"Why don't you tell me." Krista leaned back in her chair, evaluating me from behind her reading glasses.
"Like I said, what's the big deal? My father's knocking off a piece, so what?"
Leaning forward in her chair, Krista rested her arms on her desk and locked her fingers together. "You're full of shit. In the two weeks since Thanksgiving you haven't made any progress in cognizant and remedial therapies. You've regressed in math and reading skills and your RA's say you've withdrawn emotionally."
I fell into my seat.
"James, I'm considering not recommending you for release from inpatient status before Christmas. Clue me to what's up."
"You're the expert. Why don't you tell me what's wrong."
"There's nothing wrong with you…"