“Sleep well?” she asked.
No, he hadn’t, but he wasn’t going to go there. This was a new day, and a new start, and he said, “Like a lumberjack. What’s on the menu?”
“Why don’t you sit down, and let me surprise you?” she said.
He took a chair at the kitchen table, and pored through the paper. Wolfe’s demise was front-page news, and he was relieved to see the article did not mention him or the other members of the Friday night psychics, but simply said that Wolfe had fallen to his death on the Upper West Side, and the police were relieved that a crazed killer was now off the streets. He guessed Garrison had a hand in this, and made a mental note to thank him the next time they spoke.
Liza placed two plates on the table. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toasted bagels left over from the other day. He dug in, and noticed that she was still playing with her cell phone.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“A relationship counselor,” his girlfriend replied.
“For us?”
“Yes. Here’s one. ‘Dr. Ruth Berman, licensed New York therapist. Stop fighting, understand more. Connect deeply, love deeply.’ This one sounds promising. ‘Need help in improving your relationship? I’ll show you how to be true to yourself, yet remain close to your partner in a passionate, caring relationship. Call today.’ That sounds like us to a T.”
Peter placed his fork onto his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Liza was serious. He cleared his throat, causing her to look up.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to talk out our problems first.”
“Are you afraid of seeing someone? Be truthful.”
“Yes, I am.”
She reached across the table, and placed her hand on top of his. “I really want us to see a professional. You’re different. I have to learn to deal with that.”
“I’m not that different,” he said defensively.
“Oh, Peter, please.”
His cheeks burned, and he glanced down at his unfinished plate of food. “All right. I’m a lot different. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work this out ourselves. We need to try.” He looked up, and saw her studying him. An uneasy silence filled the kitchen.
“Why are you so afraid of this?” she asked.
“I don’t want to betray my friends.”
“Therapists are sworn to secrecy. Something tells me that’s not the reason.”
Peter struggled with a reply. Liza was right. There was another reason, and it had to do with the dark side of his personality that he kept buried within him. That was something he didn’t want to discuss with a therapist, or anyone else.
His cell phone began to vibrate. Liza frowned at the interruption. He pulled it from the pocket of his robe and glanced at the face. Garrison calling. He decided the FBI agent could wait, and placed the phone onto the table. It began to move around by itself, then went still.
“Guess it’s not important,” she said.
“Actually, it’s probably very important,” he replied. “You’re just more important.”
“Who is it?”
“Garrison.”
“The FBI agent? Don’t you think you should take it?”
He leaned forward on his elbows. “I can call him back. How about this? Let’s talk before we go see someone, and set some ground rules.”
“What kind of ground rules?”
“I don’t want to talk about my parents except in general terms.”
“Why not? Your parents are a part of this conversation.”
There were places he didn’t want to go right now, and his parents’ history was one of them. How was he supposed to explain who they were without pushing Liza away from him?
“I have my reasons. Please respect them. That’s all I want. Everything else is fair game.”
“Is there something about your parents you haven’t told me?”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Her frown grew. “More secrets, huh?”
“I only found out about it recently. I’m still not comfortable with it yet.”
“How are we supposed to have a relationship if you hide things?”
His cell phone rattled on the table. He glanced at the face. It was Garrison, trying to track him down. Why couldn’t he leave a voice mail like everyone else? Peter ignored it.
“I’m not hiding things,” he said. “My parents died when I was seven. There are a lot of things I didn’t know about them, and their past, that I’m only learning about now. It’s making me see them in a new light and it’s not easy.”
Her eyes searched his face. It made him uncomfortable, and he resumed eating his food. His relationship with Liza had never been a struggle, and he wondered if they would ever return to the way things used to be.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” she said. “How does it work with psychics when it comes to relationships? How do they work these issues out? I’m assuming their partners are normal. Or aren’t they?”
He gave her question some thought. Max’s late wife had been psychic, and so had Milly’s late husband. Reggie had been a confirmed bachelor, so he didn’t count. Madame Marie’s husband hadn’t been psychic, but his parents had been, so he’d understood the drill. Peter didn’t know about Lester Rowe, and as far as Holly was concerned, she rarely dated. There was Nemo, who’d changed girlfriends as often as he changed his socks. It occurred to him that none of his psychic friends had carried on a relationship with a normal partner. He wondered how he could tell Liza this, and not make her even more uncomfortable. Before he could answer, his cell phone did a slow crawl across the table. Garrison, calling again.
“Maybe you’d better answer it,” Liza said.
“I want to talk about this some more,” he said, ignoring the phone.
“Then answer my question. How do your psychic friends deal with their relationships? Or is that a secret too?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask them.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
Liza picked up her plate, went to the garbage disposal, and dumped her uneaten meal into the trash. Turning around, she gave him a fiery look. “How can someone with the gift of clairvoyance not know how to carry on a normal relationship? I just don’t get it.”
“You’re the first normal relationship I’ve had,” he said truthfully.
“Really. What about that Swedish supermodel you were dating, and the TV actress. Didn’t those last a while?”
“I never got close to them. I couldn’t confide in them like I have with you.”
“You told me what you wanted to tell me, Peter. You didn’t tell me the truth.”
He rose from his chair. She was pushing him away, and he needed to come clean. “I was afraid that if I told you too soon, I’d damage the relationship, and you’d run away.”
“You’ve already damaged the relationship. The question is, how do you plan to fix it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know, I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said.”
His cell phone did another little dance. Liza crossed the kitchen, and snatched it off the table. Flipping it open, she abruptly said, “Hello-are you looking for Peter? He’s right here. Hold on,” and shoved the cell phone into her boyfriend’s hands. “Let me know when you’re ready to have a real conversation,” she said, and stormed out of the room.
Peter heard the front door slam as she left the house. He shook his head, wondering how he was going to
