She’d had enough of Dr. Andy and his diagnosis. “You need to leave now. Contrary to what you believe, I do have a life inside these walls.”
His expression softened. “Sara-Kate, the last thing I want to do is upset you. I really care about you. When I’m around you, I feel such a sense of calmness and well-being. You have some kind of gift. I can only imagine what good you could do with that gift if you shared it, maybe visited the care facility, and just spoke with the patients.”
All she wanted to do at that moment was clamp her hands over her ears to drown him out. She already had guided a person right into her grave, and the experience changed her profoundly. She could not let it happen again.
“Is there a problem here?”
Sara-Kate turned at the sound of Reed’s voice behind her. His dark eyes were narrow as he glared at the doctor. His arms folded defensively over his broad chest and tight fitting t-shirt.
“No, Andy is here to pick up the cookies for the assisted living center, and he’s now leaving,” she said.
When she turned back to Dr. Andy, she could see the shock in his expression. After the last few years of her always being alone when he arrived, Reed’s appearance likely thrown him, and maybe that was a good thing. Perhaps his seeing Reed would dissuade his future advances.
“Thank you for picking up the cookies, and goodbye,” she said finally.
There was a distinct sense of relief when she closed the door. Reed still looked at her inquisitively.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, but it sounded rather heated.”
She waved a hand. “It’s nothing, Dr. Andy thinks he can save me from myself.”
His brows shut up. “Excuse me?”
He thinks I’m agoraphobic, and that I can’t leave the house because of my own mind.”
Reed shifted from foot to another, as if unsure how to reply.
She laughed lightly. “Does that surprise you?”
“Well, Sara, when is the last time you left the house?”
“Oh...I don’t know, a long time, I guess. Years, actually,” she admitted staring down at the hardwood floor of the foyer.
“Why?” he asked, truly puzzled.
“I...I had a few very bad experiences in my life, Reed. Staying within my four walls is just...safer. I don’t expect you to understand.”
He stepped closer to her, and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Try me, Sara-Kate.”
There was so much sincerity in his dark eyes. Could she tell him? Tell him some of her story, anyway. Would he really understand? Perhaps if she did, the constant knot of pain and guilt she always carried with her would unravel to some degree. Any relief would be welcome.
“Okay, okay, let’s sit down.”
He followed her to the couch and sat beside her, his knee mere inches from her own. Where to start? She wondered.
She folded her hands on her lap. “Years ago, before I started Sara-Kate’s Spirit, before I moved here, I was working as sort of a...” she paused, searching for the right phrase. Spirit guide would not due under these circumstances. “A personal counsellor.”
The corner of his mouth twitched then. “Ah...Sara, just how old are you?” he asked.
“That’s not important right now, Reed.” Again, the overwhelming need to tell him everything flooded over her. Her instincts were keen, and she knew Reed suspected all was not the same within his life. Still, she pressed on with the tiny, but defining part of her own little story.
“The girl in my charge was thirteen. She came from a very good family. Two parents, two younger siblings. But her life just spiraled into depression and anxiety. She was on all sorts of medications trying to balance her moods. My part was to try to guide her to healing, and living her life to the fullest.”
She stopped momentarily to collect her thoughts. This part of her spirit existence was one of the most devastating.
Reed reached over and took her hand into his. A warm, comforting gesture of encouragement.
“Her parents were very supportive, she had a lot of friends, and she did well in school. Still...” she paused and closed her eyes.
“Still, what, Sara?”
“One evening she was getting ready to take a bath, and for some reason she took a handful of her anti-depressant medication. Then she told her mother she was sorry.”
Reed sucked in his breath. “Did she...?”
“Die?” she finished his question. “Yes, there was nothing the doctors could do to save her.” An uncomfortable ache crept into her head. So much like her own death. Nothing any one could do but watch her die. She got to her feet, let go of his hand, and moved to the front window, placing her palms against the cool glass.
Seconds later, she felt Reed’s hand on her shoulder. He moved her ponytail aside and pressed his lips against the pulse of her neck, and she relaxed a bit.
“You know, her death wasn’t your fault, Sara-Kate. It was probably no one’s fault.”
“I’ve been telling myself that for years, but somehow I still haven’t quite accepted it as not being my fault...at least my fault on some level. Children should not die, Reed.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his body against her back. It wasn’t sexual, she knew. He was trying to comfort her.
“After it happened, I couldn’t continue as a guide...counsellor,” she quickly corrected herself. “I moved here, and started Sara-Kate’s Spirit. Pretty soon, I immersed myself in the business, and time got away from me. I didn’t go out, I didn’t get to know the neighbors, I have no friends...no family.”
She turned to face Reed. “It became comfortable...safe. I didn’t want to be hurt again, or ever experience that kind of pain. When your alone, no one can hurt you but yourself.”
She doubted he could understand her reasoning. But the look contemplative look on his face spoke volumes.
“What is it, Reed?” she asked.
For a moment he remained silent, and her worry increased. Had she unleased within him his own memories of a similar
