“It doesn’t matter how the topic came up, what matters is—”
“I disagree. Seems to me that if you hadn’t stuck your nose into things that are none of your business, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.”
“Maybe not, but your daughter would still want to know who her father is, and you’d still be doing your best to pretend the topic is a non-issue while it matters a great deal to Tegan.”
We stand on our respective sides of the desk, glaring at each other. This exchange is getting way too confrontational. I need to restore the calm so we can continue the discussion in civil tones.
I struggle not to flare my nostrils and put my hands forward in what I hope is perceived as a calming gesture. “Just to be clear, I’m not accusing you of anything, or implying you did something wrong.”
“Really? Because you’re coming across as an awful lot judgmental right now.”
“Sorry, that’s not my intention.”
“What do you want from me, then?”
“Tegan has expressed a serious interior struggle about not knowing where half of her comes from, one that might fall in a blind spot for you because of your own”—I put my hands forward again to show this is not a critique—“feelings toward the man in question. I’m sure you have valid reasons for not wanting to expose Tegan to this man. To protect your daughter from someone you’re certain would only bring her more pain. Was he…” I don’t know how to phrase this. “… a violent man?”
Medusa’s eyes widen. “Gosh, no. Nothing like that. Just a selfish prick.”
We stare at each other for the longest time, and I swear my breath was more even at the end of my eight-mile run earlier this morning.
The tension breaks when my phone rings, piercing the loaded silence.
I take it out of my briefcase and check the ID: Listen to Your Heart.
Yeah, right. Just what I need now, a call from my damn Dating Specialist. I silence the phone and put it on “do not disturb.”
“Sorry,” I apologize to Medusa. “I usually turn it off before a session, but this wasn’t exactly planned.”
Vivian waves me off in an it’s okay way, just as my landline rings.
“Sorry,” I repeat. “This line is for emergencies; a client might need me. Do you mind if I pick up?”
“Go ahead,” she says, still a little stiff.
“Hello,” I say into the receiver.
“Good morning, Dr. Keller, this is Jennifer, your Dating Specialist from Listen to Your Heart.”
I pinch my nose; the woman is a Rottweiler. “Morning, Jennifer,” I reply, annoyed. “I stated in my questionnaire this number was for emergencies only.”
“Well, Dr. Keller, your dating life is an emergency.”
And from the little smirk now tugging at Medusa’s lips, it’s obvious she can hear both sides of the conversation.
“This isn’t a good moment. Can I call you back?”
“Are you in session?”
“Not exactly, but—”
“Don’t worry, then, this will take only a few minutes,” Jennifer insists. “I have the morning booked solid with appointments, and I need to collect feedback on Saturday night to present to Miss Bishop as soon as possible.” Why is she still using our aliases, I wonder, as the tirade continues. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanlike to make a lady wait. I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Go ahead,” I surrender, sagging backward in my chair. Medusa is staring at me with an amused glint in her eyes. From the looks of it, I’d say Vivian is going to enjoy the next five minutes just as much as I’m going to hate them.
“Very well, Dr. Keller,” Jennifer continues. “I’m happy to inform you Miss Bishop has expressed an interest in going on a second date with you. Did you find her to be a suitable match?”
“No,” I reply curtly.
“Oh, may I ask why?”
I sigh, looking at Medusa again. At least she knows already. “Because, mid-date, Meadow declared she’s a witch.”
“Hold on just a second…”
The sound of paper shuffling comes through the line. “Yes, I can see from Miss Bishop’s questionnaire she has an esoteric faith.” More paper rustling. “But you also stated in your questionnaire that you didn’t care about a potential partner’s denomination.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t anticipate that would include women who are convinced they can perform magic spells.”
I make the mistake of looking at Medusa again; she’s not even trying to hide her smile.
“I’m sorry, but how is one belief more legitimate than another, Dr. Keller? Don’t all religions rely on blind faith?”
Medusa raises her eyebrow at me in a, I want to see you get out of this one way. I ignore her silent provocation and reply to Jennifer. “Listen, I’d rather not debate theological arguments with you. Just, please, no more witches.”
“Noted. Was religion the only issue with Miss Bishop? She stated you ended the date quite abruptly.”
“I had my reasons,” I say.
“What reasons?”
“Those are private.”
“Sorry, Dr. Keller, but if you want this process to work, you need to be forthcoming. Why did you leave?”
Vivian tilts her head as if saying, something to hide, Doctor?
“Meadow… err… propositioned me in a way I wasn’t comfortable with.”
“What made you uncomfortable?” Jennifer asks.
Medusa’s grin turns evil at this point.
I stare right back at Vivian and say, “Meadow asked me point-blank to have sex with her.”
Medusa doesn’t drop her gaze, but is that a faint blush on her cheeks?
“And that was a problem because…?” On the line, the familiar rustling of paper comes back. “You stated on your questionnaire that sexuality is an important aspect of a relationship for you. Are you uncomfortable getting physical with a partner?”
Vivian raises that mocking eyebrow again, and I hope I’m not blushing as I spit my answer between gritted teeth. “Only when the act is intended as a propitiatory rite to harness the Earth’s power in anticipation of a scrying ritual to take place at midnight.”
“Okay,” Jennifer says, nonplussed. “Your objections have been noted, Dr. Keller, and
