I rubbed at the ache in the back of my neck and shoulder. “Probably.”
“What you need to focus on now is talking with her on Thursday. Listen, be patient, and take it all in.”
“I will.”
Callie set her notepad and pen down and leaned forward. “Bishop, I’m taking off my therapist hat and putting on my friend hat to give you a bit of advice.”
“Okay.”
She took in a breath and said, “No matter how things go on Thursday, do not sleep with Abby.”
I jerked my head back and let out a confused laugh. “Sleep with her? What makes you think I’d sleep with her?”
With a soft smile, Callie answered me. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re still madly in love with her. And, from what you’ve told me, Abby is still in love with you. Your emotions will be high. Take things slow, Bishop. If you truly can forgive her, and you decide to move forward with Abby…go slow.”
I clenched my jaw as I tried to desperately push away thoughts of being with Abby. I finally spoke. “Thank you for your advice, Callie, but I highly doubt we’re going to end up in bed together.”
She flashed me a smirk. “If I thought it was ethical, I’d bet you on that.”
I laughed.
“I’m here if you need to talk,” she said.
We both stood. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
As we headed to the door, she smiled up at me. “Good luck on opening day. I’ll be by with Manny and Lynn to pick out our tree.”
“See you then, Callie.”
“Bye, Bishop.”
Callie’s office was on the corner of Poplar Street and Main in a small office building that housed mostly medical doctors and such. After walking out of her office, I came to an abrupt halt when I saw Abby walking up the sidewalk to the front entrance. I turned down another hallway before she saw me, and silently prayed she wasn’t coming this way.
She walked by, and I peeked around the corner to see her walk past Callie’s office, down to the end of the hall. She reached for a door, then pulled back for a second before she finally entered the last door on the left.
After waiting a few moments, I made my way down the hall and stopped, staring at the name on the door.
Christina Nash
LPC-S, LMFT-A
Grief Counselor
“What in the fuck?” I whispered as I took a step back, then made a beeline back to Callie’s office. I knew she wasn’t scheduled with another patient today because she’d mentioned going to Lynn’s Thanksgiving Day party at school. Opening the door, I walked in.
Callie looked up and grinned. “You know I’m going to charge you double if you make me late for my kid’s party.”
“Christina Nash.”
“What about her?”
“Who is she, what does she do? I mean, I know she’s a grief counselor.”
Callie drew her brows in some. “She’s a licensed therapist like me, except her specialty is in grief. She moved to Boggy Creek from Boston about six months ago. Why do you ask?”
I ran my hand through my hair. “I saw Abby walk into her office a few moments ago. Do you think she’s a patient there or something?”
Callie put her laptop into a bag and swung it over her shoulder. “Let’s walk and talk.”
After stepping out into the hall, she locked her office and we headed for the exit. I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder.
“So?” I finally asked when we got outside. The snow had stopped falling and with the sun shining down, the ground looked as if someone has tossed tiny crystals all over it.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Bishop. Do I think she might be seeing Christina? Possibly. Some women struggle for months, sometimes years, after a miscarriage.”
I stopped walking. “You think it’s about the baby?”
Callie turned and looked at me. “Unless she’s suffered another loss, I would assume so. Again, I’m only guessing. If you really want to know, ask her.” We got to her Toyota 4Runner and she unlocked it, tossed her bag and purse in, and then turned to face me. “It’s not uncommon for some women to have certain…fears. After a miscarriage, you go through a gamut of emotions. I would know. I’ve had two.”
My eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Callie. I didn’t…I didn’t know.”
She placed her hand on my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be surprised if Abby has been seeing a therapist this entire time.”
“Right. Of course, it makes sense.”
“I’ve got to run. Talk to you next week.”
“Enjoy the party with Lynn,” I said, holding her door while she got in.
“I will!”
I shut the door, lifted my hand, and waved. Then I glanced around the parking lot and saw Abby’s car. I guess she hadn’t seen mine, since I’d parked around the side of the building. I wasn’t sure why, but the first time I’d gone to see Callie, a part of me hadn’t wanted people to drive by and see my truck out front. It had become a habit to park on the side now.
Small-town gossip. Not that I was embarrassed about my sessions with Callie—it was just that I had kept that part of my life to myself, outside of a couple friends. My folks didn’t even know I was seeing anyone.
I made my way through the parking lot and to the side of the building where I got into my truck. I drove across Main and pulled into O’Hara Construction. Putting my truck in park, I sat there and waited to see how long it would be before Abby walked out.
After twenty minutes of watching the building across the street like a stalker, my passenger door opened and Aiden got in.
He laughed. “I was starting to wonder if you were trying to decide to come in or not, until I noticed you staring at the medical building across the street. Who in the hell are you stalking?”
“Abby.”
He turned and looked at the building. “Who’s she seeing?”
“Someone by the name of Christina Nash.”
“Oh, Christina is amazing. She works part time at the clinic.”
I turned and looked him. “She does?”
He nodded. “Great therapist. She’s actually one of the state’s best PTSD and grief therapists. It took a lot of convincing on my part to get her to come to Boggy Creek. In the end, she really liked what we were about at the clinic, and she decided she needed a change from Boston. She moved here about six months ago.”
Right then, Abby walked out and headed to her car.
“They’re having a girls’ sleepover at Greer’s tonight,” Aiden said. “I think we need a guys’ night out too. How about poker night at my place? I’m sure Greer will kick Hudson out of the house, and he’ll need a place to crash.”
Abby pulled out and headed down Main Street. My chest ached as I watched her drive by. Looking over at Aiden, I replied, “Poker night sounds like a good plan.”
Abby
I pulled up to Greer and Hudson’s house twenty minutes early. I’d always loved the Steck residence. It was a Victorian-style historical home, and I knew Greer had also always loved it as well. It had been built by one of the first doctors to settle in Boggy Creek Valley, and it looked like it had been recently painted white. I hadn’t been in the house in years and was curious to see all the changes that had been made.