Did she win? She always wins. The ghost of something crossed Natalie's face. Affection, maybe. Real affection, undisguised.
She cheats a little, Caleb added. She absolutely does. She cheated at the card game we played in the session today. And when I caught her, she looked me dead in the eye and said, "Strategic advantage." He pressed his hand over his mouth to keep the laugh quiet.
"She's seven," he said through his hand. "She's terrifying. She really is." The laughing settled. The quiet that followed was different from the professional pauses they'd had before.
It had more room in it. Natalie leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and looked at the sleeping child for a moment. She asked me today if I have a family. He waited. I told her, "I have a mother in Connecticut and a brother in California and a company with 400 employees.
What did she say?" She said, "That's not what I meant." Caleb exhaled. "I'm sorry. She don't be sorry."
Natalie's voice was quiet. Even she wasn't wrong. He looked at her profile, the careful, composed line of her. She was looking at Ava. She told me she used to have a mom, Natalie said.
She said it the way she says most things very directly. She said, "I used to have a mom, but now I just have my dad, and my dad is the best person I know." And then she picked up the wooden figure and said she thought it was time to be Gerald's friend. The back of Caleb's throat did something. He wasn't going to examine closely.
She's just stopped. Started again. She just says things. She says true things. She's been saying something specific about you.
He watched her carefully since the park. She just she keeps circling back. She doesn't push it on me directly, but I can feel her thinking it. Natalie turned and looked at him. Full direct.
What does she think? He met her eyes. That you belong in the picture. Neither of them moved. The air in the waiting room had a specific quality now. careful, full of the particular electricity of a thing being acknowledged before any huos what to do with it.
Natalie looked away first down at her hands. I'm your daughter's therapist, Caleb. I know that line exists for good reasons. I know. I don't.