DIRT SWALLOW US WHOLE
1161 Words
Emily had at least two embarrassing moments of which she could feel miserable if she sat down to drink a glass of wine on a Saturday night while she pondered her decisions made throughout her entire life. One of those moments was when she was twelve years old and Tommy Winters was the love of her life. Well, well, she thought he was the love of her life. With those adorable little dimples on his cheeks, eyes too big for his pretty face, and incredible self-confidence, to Emily he was the boy she would marry when she reached her adult life. Of course, that meant turning fifteen for her. On Valentine's Day she carried a heart-shaped box filled with chocolates that her mother had helped her make the night before. So, on the morning of February 14th, she put on her favorite dress, a little makeup (honestly, she looked like a clown, how come her mother didn't tell her?) And some shoes covered in pink glitter to declare her unconditional love to Tommy. Little did Tommy know of Emily's crazy thoughts since he didn't even know she existed. But her fantasies were lived out. So, when she saw Tommy putting his books in his locker, she walked up to him with a huge smile and said while offering him the heart-shaped box: "Tommy, I love you. Marry me!" Needless to say, the people wandering down the hall at the time choked on the fit of laughter caused by Emily's stupid idea. Tommy was mortified. His eyes looking at everyone. The boy took the box from her hands and left without saying a single word. After that she never saw him again as she refused to attend school.
Years later Emily worked as a barista in a coffee shop and one day a young man entered the establishment. Emily took his order with all the calm in the world but before handing him his drink, she wrote her number on the cup and handed it to the handsome young man. He smiled at her - without noticing the number - and left the shop. Five minutes later, a girl came in furious, demanding to know who the slut had been who dared to give her boyfriend her number. Luckily for Emily there were at least three people behind the counter with her and they were all women so no one said anything, but the other two women knew it was Emily. She had to quit out of embarrassment.
Today a new moment had been added to Emily's list of regrets. For the first time it had to do with a client. Now what could she do? It's not like she could quit her job. How? The best she could do was refer Mr. Thorn to another colleague. The man had not missed the opportunity to make fun of her, so the most professional thing was to transfer it with someone else.
"Mr. Thorn," Emily sighed trying to remain calm. You can do this, come on. It's just a client. "I'm terribly sorry for what just happened. It wasn't very professional of me, so to make you feel more comfortable I'm going to transfer you to another colleague. He is excellent!" Emily began searching through her drawers in a craze for her agenda. "Tell him that I sent you, he will receive you immediately."
“Why would I want to be transferred?” she heard him speak from above. He sounds so close. Emily had to lift her eyes and saw him standing right next to her. She scrambled backwards, knocking the chair onto the floor.
“s**t!” she muttered. No way to recover from this one.
“Are you feeling alright, Doctor?” he grinned devilishly stalking closer. When he bent to pick up the chair and put it back in place, she let out the breath she didn’t realize was being held captive. “Please relax. It sounds strange coming from me, for I am your patient, but just take it easy.”
“Mr. Thorn I think it’s better for us to end things here and just… you know,” she was about to vomit. “move on from this embarrassing situation.”
“I have no desire to be transferred. I am here because I want to be, and you were recommended to me.”
The vehemence in his tone forced her to regain her composure. But it had also piqued her interest, "Did someone recommend me to you?" It was something that happened quite often, and she always demanded to know who the person was. “Who did?”
“My friend’s name is Leah. She said you’d do the job just fine and I believe her.”
“Oh yes! I remember her! We have been friends for quite some time.” She offered more information than she should have. “Is that why you wanted two hours?”
Mr. Thorn blinked slowly a few times. She could see obvious confusion clouding his gaze. "Two hours?" then he seemed to think it more calmly and his demeanor switched completely. "I'm sorry, I must have forgotten. Yes," he cleared his throat returning to his seat as if nothing had happened and the session was still on. "That's me. I forget things easily."
She shouldn't continue. Part of Emily knew the best thing to do was end the session right now and transfer him or wish this man luck with his life. But there was also that pulsing part within her that forced her to satisfy her curiosity about this new patient. She always dealt with the same problems but he ... he seemed interesting. The way he moved, spoke and released that powerful energy. "I see." she said simply as she took a seat across from him. "And what kinds of things do you usually forget the most?"
"I don't know," a small laugh bubbled up inside his chest. He seemed to be trying to avoid laughing entirely. Was he laughing at the question or at her? Then there was a small pause, as if he was debating what was wise or not to reveal to her. Emily had the slight suspicion that this man kept secrets, not only for others but for himself as well. "It may be that I choose to forget about specific things." He offered, "I'm not talking about my keys or where I put the remote or whether I turned off the coffee maker before I left the house. Which I did, by the way."
“Mr. Thorn, I completely forgot to ask but… is it okay for me to record our session? No camera, just a voice recorder.” She asked tentatively.
He nodded courtly. “Of course.”
“Thank you,” She reached for the recorder sitting a top of the small table next to her chair and pushed the recording button. “Please, continue. What kind of things do you forget the most?” she repeated for sake of the recording.
“Promises.”
“Promises that people make to you?”
There was something dark about him now, it made her skin crawl. “Promises that I make.”
“Why would you forget about them?”
“Because I never intend to keep them.”
- Writer
