“Whoa, Mel, you could have killed me and Ash making us fly around in the sky like that,” Bessie shouts. To say she is furious with her therapist is an understatement. They are sitting on the gigantic teeter-totter in the children’s playground. Like before, it tilts up and down with no regard to their differences in appearance. He gives her an amused stare until the irony of her comment sinks in.
“Okay, okay, I get the drift,” she admits. “I know me and Ash, we’re no longer able to get killed, but still. You scared the life out of me.”
He stares again, smiling. “Or you might say, you scared me half to death.”
Now it’s Bessie’s turn to grin. She gets into the game. “You scared the living daylights out of me.”
“You scared the wits out of me,” Angel Mel says, one-upping her.
“You scared m
