“We could schedule some interventions for you, if it would help,” Jason said. “I know some excellent therapists.” He took her hand. She looked at their fingers and saw how quickly hers twined around his. “I know how hard it is to change the way you think about things,” he said. “Do you know how long I’ve clung to the idea that I’m going to make it in Hollywood? That I’m some undiscovered genius? And meanwhile I’m just a part-time kids basketball coach whose wife-soon to be ex-wife- has to support him. I need to lay down some new pathways of my own.” He rubbed his thumb softly against the rounded part of her palm. “You could help me, Sari. You're good with all this brain-retraining stuff. It's what you do.”
“Why would you
“Yeah, you were,” he said. “And back in high school, I used to laugh when someone tripped a retard.”
“So what are you saying? That we're even?”
“Not that. More like… people can act badly and not be bad people.”
“How do you tell the difference? Between a bad person and one who just acts badly? Because I’ve been trying so hard to figure that one out and I can't. I cant.”
“You just know,” he said. “One pretty good indication is when the person devotes her life to helping other people. Truly bad people don't usually do that. Not unless it pays well.”
“It doesn't pay well,” Sari said. She couldn't look at him, just kept focusing on their hands-on how her fingers were clutching on to his. She felt choked with hope and dread and uncertainty.
“Also,” he said, “when someone kisses you and it's all you can think about for weeks and weeks, you just can't believe that person is bad.”
“Bad people can be good kissers.”
“I’m sorry.” Jason pulled on her hand, gently reeling her in toward him. “I just can't think of you as evil. God knows I’ve tried, Sari. For the past few days, all I’ve done is try. I’ve been so pissed off at you… But I keep seeing you throw your arms around Zack because he said ‘more’ one day, and everything else gets lost.”
“I know,” she said and extricated her hand from his, but only so she could slide it up his arm, feel the muscle there and the warmth of his skin. “I’ve been trying even harder to hate you. To keep hating you, I mean.” She was whispering now, not to be quiet, but because it was so hard to find the breath to speak out loud. “But you keep making it almost impossible.”
“Sari,” he said, and it was a question, only she didn't try to answer it, just pushed herself against him, and maybe that was answer enough. She could feel his whole body sigh with relief. She buried her face in his chest. She only came up to his shoulders, and it felt good to just collapse onto him, to let someone else hold her up for a change. “Sari,” he said again. His fingers went to her hair and he stroked it gently for a moment, but then he caught some of the short strands in his fingers and tugged it back-not painfully, but firmly enough to force her head back and make her look at him. His face-his so-handsome-it-hurt-to-look-at-him face-was taut and anxious, and his voice was hoarse when he said, “If this is another one of those times when you're playing with me-if you're going to turn on me again like you did last time-”
“And the time before,” she said, ashamed, remembering how every time she started to like him and let him see that she liked him, she'd force herself to be cold and angry with him again, with no explanation or apology. “I won't. I swear I won't. And I wasn't playing with you before-I was fighting with myself.”
“That's not what it felt like from where I was standing.”
“I was pretty awful, wasn't I?”
“Just a little cruel.”
“Here I was thinking you were the bad guy,” Sari said. “And it was me all along.”
“Yeah.” He kept the firm hold on her hair, kept her head pulled back, his eyes studying her face. “But I forgive you.” He bent over her. There was enough anger left in him that his kiss was hard and violent.
She was instantly aroused, instantly drawn under. She had been waiting a long time for this, she realized, and her body was already tightening with the lust she'd been trying to ignore for all that time. This time, there was no holding back, no wondering whether she was making a mistake. All she wanted was to be this close to him forever, always feeling his mouth and body demanding hers and hers demanding his.
And then someone cleared her throat just a few feet away.
They sprang apart.
“Hi,” Ellen said, standing in the doorway, holding her briefcase across her chest like a shield. “Am I interrupting? Or am I allowed to come into my own office?”
“Oh, God,” Sari said. She felt her hot face flush even hotter.
“I’m so sorry, Ellen. Oh, God.”
Ellen came into the room. “Hey, curie,” she said, holding her free hand out to Zack, who was still lying on his back on the floor. “How about standing up now? It's time to go home.
“Come over later?” Jason whispered to Sari as he slipped by her on the way to taking Zack's hand.
Sari nodded. She wasn't capable of speaking at the moment.
“Really?” he said.
She nodded again, and he led Zack to the door. “Sorry,” he said to Ellen. “We never meant to-”
“Just please take your child and go,” Ellen said. Jason hesitated, looking at Sari, who gestured with her head toward the door, and he nodded and left. Ellen dropped her briefcase on the floor and turned to Sari. “Tell me why I shouldn't strangle you.”
Sari forced a smile. “You'd be short a clinician?”
“That's the only reason I’m not. But if you ever do anything like this again-”
“I’m so sorry, Ellen,” Sari said. “I-” It was hard for her to get words out, but she cleared her throat and tried again. “I wouldn't. Ever. I never have before, I swear.”
“Well, that's a relief. I’d hate to think you're in here making out with men whenever my back is turned.”
“This was the first time-”
“First, last, and only. You understand?”
“Of course. Of course.”
“The kid was right there,” Ellen said. “God knows I’m no prude, Sari, but the poor kid was lying on the floor and his parents aren't even divorced yet. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn't really thinking,” Sari said.
“That's obvious.” Ellen studied her carefully. “I assume this was connected to the whole ‘I can't work with Zack but I swear his father's not a letch’ thing?”
“Kind of. I mean-”
“Do we want to revisit the question of whether his father's a letch or not? Because it seems to me-”
“Please,” Sari said. She put her hand to her forehead. “It's not like that, Ellen.”
“Really? So tell me what it's like.”
“I don't know,” she said. “Can I get back to you on that?”
“Whatever it is or isn't, keep it out of the office,” Ellen said.
“I promise.”
“And if you ever ask to be taken off a child's case again for personal reasons-”
“I won't.”
“You better not. Or you'll be out of here. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“All right then.”
Sari went to the door.
“One last thing-” Ellen said.
“What?” She turned.
Ellen scooped up her briefcase off the floor and dropped it onto her desk. “Don't forget to go over there later. Might as well finish what you started. Only this time in the appropriate environment.”
Sari managed a nod and stumbled out of the office.
Jason was putting Zack to bed when Sari arrived. She volunteered to read Zack a bedtime story, and Jason sat on the bed and watched her intently through the whole book. It made it hard to read.
Once she was done, she put the book back in the bookcase while Jason tucked the blanket around Zack's little