Cold Feet (Empathy in the PPNW Book 3) Page 9

  I munched on my treats as the doctor led us down the hall, away from the reception area and out to a large, well-maintained garden with three other straight pairs and one gay couple. They all milled about on the grass, near each other, but not making conversation. I recognized one of the pairs as the man and woman Mel had embarrassed the day before, when he’d compared me to a lion. Dr. Coontz joined four other doctors at the top of the steps leading up to the porch, and addressed the crowd.

  “Good morning, everyone. This is the first of five group sessions we’ll be having this week here at Tough Love. This morning, we will be working on building trust.” Dr. Coontz babbled on about the importance of being open and honest, and maybe about Transformers or something. He could have been talking about anything at all and I wouldn’t have registered what he’d said.

  I honestly tuned out as I scanned the other couples. Two of them looked to be about our age and the women had matching cotton balls tucked into their elbows like I did. The one older couple and the two men looked untouched. I wondered why us young women were the only ones being subjected to needles and starvation. As he finished his speech, Gordon left the deck to come back down to us; his fellow doctors did the same, joining their couples.

  “We’re going to start with something simple: eye contact. Eye contact is quite intimate, whether you may think it so or not. Now, everyone turn to face your partner.” Couples shuffled on the grass, turning to face each other as the doctors began to mill about. Dr. Coontz stayed near us, watching us intently. I noticed that odd excitement come from him again and I felt myself shuffle, shying away from it. Mel reached out, grabbing my hands and holding them tightly. I glanced over just as Dr. Coontz reached toward my face.

  I wasn’t quick enough to pull away and before I knew it, his dry fingers were on my chin, turning my face so I was facing Mel squarely. Mel, however, was looking at the doctor and he did not look pleased, but I didn’t know if he was unhappy with me for looking elsewhere or with Coontz for touching me.

  “Now, I want you to look into each other’s eyes for sixty seconds. Everyone ready?” A murmur went through the crowd and the doctor shifted so that he could see past us. Pulling a stopwatch out of his pocket, he hit the button.

  Mel and I stood in the grass in silence. It started out fine, but quickly became uncomfortable. A ripple of nervous amusement ran through the crowd, pushing a giggle out of my chest. Mel smiled at me as I laughed and I fought the urge to move my gaze to his lips. His eyes, while very pretty, were somewhat intimidating. He seemed unbothered by the supposed intimacy and I found myself pretty jealous of how calm he seemed.

  Finally, the doctor announced that sixty seconds was up and we could look away. Mel didn’t. I started to but decided that, if he could handle it so could I. We continued to hold hands and stare as everyone around us shuffled and spoke. Gordon noticed us playing chicken and he stepped up next to us and glanced between Mel and me. Jealousy welled up within him, an oily, caustic sensation that made me flinch and break eye contact to glance over.

  “Very good,” he said, his tone bland and not matching the unpleasantness I could feel within him. “It looks like intimacy isn’t your problem. Perhaps this next test will be more of a challenge.”

  We went through more trust-building exercises that I minded much less than the staring contest. I had no worry that Mel wouldn’t catch me as I fell or that he was going to lead me astray in the maze, despite the fact that I was blindfolded. We’d been through enough together that, even though I couldn’t stand his presence without the necklace, I’d at least gotten to know him as a decent dude. Before we’d gotten abducted by a demon and whammied by a succubus together, I wouldn’t have trusted him to hold a few pennies for me, let alone stand at my back and make sure my ass didn’t hit the ground. With his emotions dammed up by magic, though, our usual bickering was fun rather than excruciating.

  After nearly an hour, we broke for a ninety-minute lunch and I nearly wept with joy at the idea of free food. Mel had other ideas, though, and smuggled me out of the garden, away from all the couples that were lining up for the buffet.

  “But!” I whined, as he pushed me toward the side of the building. “I’m hungry!”

  “Oh?” he asked, pausing near the side gate. A grin filled his face and he gave me a wink, moving his hand to the button on his jeans. “You want something in your mouth, do you?”

  “I have spontaneously lost my appetite. Forever.”

  “Then my work here is done,” he said, shifting to yank the gate open and shove me through in one smooth motion. We got to his car and he leaned in, fishing around in the backseat. I stared up at the house, smelling the food I wasn’t going to be allowed to eat and considered audibly pouting. Mel popped up, his arms tucked in the car, as he glanced around intently. Satisfied with whatever he heard or saw, he pulled back completely, slammed the door and came back around to me.

  “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

  “No food, and you’re making me exercise? I want a divorce.”

  “Hush,” he said, leading me around the side of the bushes hedging in the parking area. He moved quickly until we were nearly out of line of sight of the center, and then he slowed.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Sleuthing. Investigating. Poking around.” Still moving, he turned to give me a lascivious eyebrow wag. “Unless you want me to do some poking around.”

  “I’d probably be the one sleuthing just to locate your junk.”

  “That’s harsh,” he said, pulling away. For a split second, I though I’d actually insulted him, but he’d moved to the edge of the tree line to investigate what looked like a clump of moss, and didn’t look at all affected by my dig. Unabashed, he shoved his nose against the tree, took a deep whiff and then pulled back, shaking his head.

  “Dammit, I can’t tell.”

  “Can’t tell what?”

  “If it’s the Bishops.”

  “Are we playing chess all of a sudden?”

  Mel glanced over at me before shaking himself out of whatever his thought process was.

  “No, the first couple I was hired to find, they’re the Bishops. This might be her, but the smell’s degraded enough that I need my snout to tell for sure.”

  “So…you know. Grow it out.”

  He glared my way and we once again made eye contact. I gave in and giggled, this time, but it was mainly because he looked so irritated with me.

  “I’m not going to walk around in broad daylight with wolf-face. We’ll have to come back later and check.”

  “So I can go eat?” Mel let out a dramatic sigh and, because of the necklace, I couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

  “Yes. You can go eat.”

  ##

  The food was a wash. I was starving, so it satisfied my growling belly, but it was all vegetables and lean, white meat that was baked instead of fried. The brochure Mel had given me that I had pretended to peruse but actually just barely glanced at had mentioned something about catering to dietary restrictions. Perhaps I should’ve requested a restriction from healthy food to see if they’d serve me cake and fried Oreos from then on.

  Mel and I separated at the end of the serving line, each heading to opposite ends of the large, sunny cafeteria. I hunkered down next to a couple who looked about ten years older than me and had all the hallmarks of a pair of people who had passed the point of no return, marriage-wise. They weren’t talking, the wife had aimed her body subtly away from the husband while her emotions crackled unpleasantly, and he was thrumming with boredom. Everything pumping off of him made me feel like a kid stuck inside being forced to watch the whole neighborhood play in the pool on a sunny summer day.

  “Hey,” I said, plopping down into one of the empty seats at their table, grinning amiably at each of them in turn. The wife, surprised at my appearance, sat up a little straighter, nervous suspicion popping like an exploding light bulb. I tried not to flinch as I took a bite of my unseasoned chicken
breast.

  “Afternoon,” the man said, unbothered by the fact that I’d just intruded on what could have been a private moment between the two of them.

  “You here for the whole shebang?” I asked, keeping my expression mild and pleasant. The husband nodded, holding out his hand, his own boiled, bland meal forgotten.

  “Yeah, you? I’m Dustin, this is Alicia.”

  “Hi,” Alicia said, still not feeling welcoming or chatty. She didn’t outright tell me to get the hell off her little square of cafeteria property or anything, but she felt like the last thing she wanted to do was make conversation with some stranger who’d invited herself over without any warning whatsoever.

  I’d seen this sort of grumpiness in my own clients and I was reasonably certain Dustin should start packing his things.

  “Gwen,” I said, moving on from Dustin’s hand to offer to shake Alicia’s. She reluctantly obliged but didn’t say anything else. “You’re staying here and everything?”

  “Yeah, aren’t you? I thought everyone had to.”

  “Nah, my brother-in-law lives close and, well, we don’t, so the husband wanted to stay with them instead of here so they could catch up. We just drive over here each morning and do all the fun stuff during the day, and then head out later on. How’s it been staying here?”

  “It’s okay,” Dustin said with a shrug. “They try to get us to play games and watch movies and stuff at night, like we’re at summer camp. Alicia would kill at Scrabble if she played, but she hasn’t felt up to it lately.”

  “Oh no,” I said sympathetically, turning my attention to her. “You think you’re getting sick? Maybe you should ask one of the—who’s your doctor? We got Coontz.”

  “Howard,” Alicia said, a little scrape of her frustration chafing against me. “We interviewed with Coontz when we first got here, but he referred us to Howard after we’d signed up. It’s a little ridiculous, since we signed up with him, not her.”

  “What’s wrong with Howard?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” Dustin assured me, giving his wife a soft look of disapproval. “Don’t be mean, hon. All the doctors are fine, we did research before we got here. ‘Lish just wanted Coontz ‘cuz he’s been here the longest. Howard’s pretty new.”

  “Maybe that’s for the best. She’s probably up on the latest studies and stuff,” I encouraged, nudging Alicia’s arm lightly with the back of my wrist, before taking another bite of my vegetables. Even the lame food was better than having to sit next to a couple whose marriage had disintegrated so quietly that only one of them could tell.

  Dustin didn’t seem like a bad guy, I told myself. He’d probably have a fine time on the dating scene once things were all said and done with Alicia. And, if not, he could always get a schnauzer.

  “Maybe,” Alicia said, before shaking her head. “I don’t understand why Coontz decided to pass us along, though. I requested him specifically and he seemed happy enough with us until after the consultation. He told us we were in, to be ready for the retreat, and then when we showed up the first day, that Rhonda woman told us we’d been bumped.”

  “Aw, man,” I said, feeling a little guilty. Had Mel and I been the reason for the bumping? I was gonna have to see if my fake husband had dug up anything specific about Coontz that would indicate why he’d wanted to help me and Mel more than Dustin and Alicia. It could have been as simple as a better vibe, but that didn’t feel right. Something about Coontz felt inherently wrong, so my lizard brain was unwilling to believe he’d chosen us based on compatibility alone.

  “Things are going well, though,” Dustin said, though I could feel he didn’t really believe it.

  “You can tell so soon?” I asked, smiling encouragingly as a way of compensating for the fact that I kind of wanted to gather him close, pat his head, and mumble, “there, there. You’ll find another fish in that vast sea some day.”

  “Well,” Dustin amended, his jaw working for a moment before he shrugged and realized he was at a loss for words.

  “Howard seems fine, is all,” Alicia said, shifting in such a way that it seemed to close up her posture and pull her away from him.

  Oh boy.

  “Well, that’s good. Coontz is okay, I guess. Kind of…intense,” I said, settling on a word that hopefully wouldn’t send them running screaming from the center. “He asks a lot of personal questions.”

  “Isn’t that the point?” Dustin asked.

  “Yeah, of course. I just mean, like,” I floundered for an explanation that wouldn’t make me sound stupid. “We’re not ready to have kids, but he’s brought it up a few times, you know? Just seems like it can’t be the problem, so why keep mentioning it?”

  “He asked us about that stuff, too. I don’t want children, though,” Alicia said, an edge to her voice making me think I’d accidentally dug up exactly what had crumbled their relationship. “Maybe he didn’t want to help us because of that.”

  “You think?”

  “Some people can be very biased against child-free individuals,” Alicia asserted, her emotions burbling up in a rough and stale way that came off like she’d gone many rounds with many people over this same subject.

  “Hon, I’m sure that’s—”

  “You are,” Alicia said, rounding on Dustin.

  “No, ‘Lish, you know—”

  “I’m not discussing this with you here. We can talk about it in session,” Alicia said, grabbing her plate as she rocketed to her feet.

  “Nice to meet you!” I called after her, feeling bad for causing so much trouble. Dustin twitched, at a loss for how to react. Realizing he was trying to be polite, I gestured after her.

  “Don’t worry about me, go chase her down.”

  “So-sorry,” he stammered, taking off, leaving his plate alone at the table with me. I shoveled a few more mouthfuls of veg and chicken into my face, trying to shake off the awkwardness I’d just soaked in. It was empathically rough enough sitting there when I was the actual therapist talking to just one half of a troubled couple. Having to stew in the unpleasant friction thrown off by two unhappy married people was threatening to give me a headache.

  “Stupid Mel,” I mumbled, knowing he was an easy target. He’d brought me here, after all.

  “What’d I do?” Mel asked from behind, making me jump. “Actually, what’d you do? That ended poorly.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I insisted as he took a seat. “This place is lousy with people who hate each other and don’t want to admit it. It’s not my fault.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “I just asked about stuff, like you said.”

  “What stuff?”

  “Just…well, not much. She—Alicia was annoyed that they’d gotten fobbed off on the newest doctor in the place when they’d signed up to work with Coontz. I think maybe he dumped them for us.”

  “Hunh,” Mel said, reaching over with his fork to take a bite of my chicken. I scowled at him, but it was mostly out of habit. The food was bad and I had chocolate back at the house. “I wonder why.”

  “That’s what I was wondering, too.”

  “We’ll have to see if we can find out if Howard requested them or if Coontz didn’t want them.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Howard’s new, she can’t be involved with whatever’s going on. Coontz has been here awhile, so he has more clout and there’s more to be suspicious of there.”

  “I’ll say,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

  “You will?”

  “He’s just creepy. You see it.”

  “I do, but creepy doesn’t equal cult leader. Plus, he spends all his time here. If he’s running a cult somewhere, he’s got someone standing in for him when the retreat’s going on. That’s not really what cult leaders do. They like the attention too much to give it up to someone else.”

  “So we don’t think he’s got an acoustic guitar stashed in his trunk under some scratchy linen robes?”

  Mel chuckled. “He might
, I just doubt it’s for cult purposes.”

  “Well, then it’s someone else. Rhonda maybe. She’s a bit off. Maybe she’s secretly recruiting for her cult leader husband. She’s one of his ten wives and is only allowed to leave to bring back more wives. Did you look into her?”

  “I looked into everyone and nothing definitive sprang up. That’s why we’re here.”

  I grunted, unhappy that we were, in fact, there. I finished my meal, shoved the tray away and then sighed.

  “How much longer are we here today, anyway? We’ve had our session, we’ve done our trust exercises, what else could they possibly want from us?”

  “More talking, sweet-cheeks,” Mel said, taking my hand gently between his palms and meeting my gaze with an overtly saccharine look on his pretty face. “Communication is the key to any successful relationship.”

  “We have a successful relationship?” I asked, looking askance. Mel shrugged, still holding my hand but dropping the act.

  “Depends on how you define successful.” He thought about it for a second before pointing out, “We haven’t killed each other.”

  “Then what the hell do we need this place for?”

  ##

  Coontz stopped us as we were heading out, begging us again to stay at the facility, and then reluctantly let us leave. The first thing I did when I tore into the house was head straight for my room. I’d hidden candy in my bag and I wanted it, so bad.

  After wolfing down a whole caramel-chocolate bar, I wiped my face and headed back out to the living room. Mel was sitting across from Sarah, but Julian and the kids were nowhere to be found.

  “You’re gonna go back tonight?” Sarah asked. Mel nodded, ignored me when I sat down at the other end of the couch from him.

  “Yeah. I’ll have Gwen drive me.”

  “Gwen will do what, now?” I asked. Mel glanced over at me, squinted disapprovingly as he eyed my mouth.

  “You’ve got chocolate on your face.”