“It’s difficult for me to find joy in small moments,” she acknowledged.
“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places,” he offered unhelpfully.
“I hate to see bad people get away with bad acts,” she said later, “and I often want to punish them when the system won’t.”
“But then you’ll be the one who gets punished,” Tam pointed out blandly, not even looking up from his notepad.
That was fine with Hannah. She didn’t want him taking too keen an interest in her case. But it would have been nice if her time with him wasn’t completely useless. She was tempted to be combative just to get the guy back on his heels and out of his comfortable arrogance. But that would only make her life more unpleasant, so she fought the urge.
As the session drew to a close, and without offering an explanation, he indicated that he would likely recommend that Dr. Lemmon add a tranquilizer prescription to her medication regimen. Hannah nodded compliantly. She might have been worried if she didn’t know Lemmon would countermand that prescription immediately.
When the session ended, she thanked him for his time, managing not to mention to him how disappointed she was that Jessie’s money was just spent on what she considered to be a wasted fifty-five minutes. Instead, she headed over to the cafeteria for a late breakfast.
Seasons Wellness Center was a good facility in many respects, but there were definitely some gaps. She resolved to make a list and give it to Dr. Lemmon at their next meeting. After all, there were patients here who weren’t in a position to speak up for themselves. She could and she had access to one of the most respected behavioral therapists on the west coast. She ought to take advantage of that for the benefit of others.
When she arrived, the place was mostly empty. She ordered the kosher meal, as Merry Bartlett had recommended, and was happy to be rewarded with a yogurt parfait and a veggie scramble to go with her coffee. Once through the line, she picked an unoccupied table in the corner of the room, with a clear view of the ocean. She was just taking her first bite of yogurt when she felt someone’s eyes on her.
She looked up to see a skinny guy in his twenties with a buzz cut and a scowl staring daggers at her from across the room. He was holding a tray with two muffins, a croissant, Danish, and a huge glass of milk. He marched straight towards her.
Pretending not to notice, Hannah turned her attention back to the window as she took a long, slow deep breath. She could see the guy’s reflection in the window getting closer. As casually as she could, she picked up her coffee and took a sip. She didn’t know what his problem was, but she wasn’t going to be intimidated by a guy with crazy eyes and a bunch of pastries. She kept the coffee in her hand, ready to toss the hot liquid in his face if he made a sudden move.
He stopped two feet from her table and hovered there, waiting for her to acknowledge him. When she was good and ready, she glanced over and gave him a sweet smile. He glared down at her.
“You are in my spot,” he growled. His voice was raspy, as if he’d yelled himself hoarse.
Now that Hannah knew what she was dealing with—a guy with some kind of mental health issue who felt possessive of an arbitrary table in a cafeteria—she felt slightly more comfortable. It was always easier to navigate the crazy you understood more than the crazy you didn’t.
“What’s that?” she asked, not because she didn’t understand but so she could stall a little and determine how best to handle this.
Under normal circumstances, she’d stand her ground and simply decline to move, actually relishing the potential conflict to come. She could sense other people watching and knew that as long as she appeared to keep her cool, she could probably bait this guy into a poor choice. He already appeared to be operating on a knife’s edge. When he acted inappropriately, she could reluctantly “defend” herself, getting him thrown in the Assistance Wing and leaving her with this table for the remainder of her stay.
But that was exactly the pattern she was trying to break. She was mainly at this place to control the craving to kill someone for the adrenaline rush. But that was just an exponential extension of the buzz she got when she had a brush with danger, a conflict with someone menacing. How was she supposed to manage the former if she couldn’t stop the latter?
“You are in my spot,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “This is where I sit. Everybody knows it. Move.”
Hannah closed her eyes for a second, trying to keep her cool. She reminded herself that just because this skinny carb-hound deserved to be put in his place didn’t mean she had to be the one to do it. Besides, she didn’t know what his damage was. Maybe this spot was special to him; maybe it was a safe haven where he’d shared a meal with a loved one or a cherished friend. She decided to cut him some slack.
“Okay,” she said, putting the coffee on her tray and standing up. “Enjoy the view.”
She picked up the tray and was about to move when he stepped forward and blocked her path.
“You gotta say ‘sorry’ too,” he hissed. His breath reeked and it was all she could do not to gag. His hands were shaking with rage, making the plate full of pastries rattle on his tray.
“What?” she asked slowly, feeling her sense of restraint fading away fast. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another patient waving to get the attention of a security guard who was too far away to intervene in time to stop whatever was about to happen.
“You tried to take my spot,” he repeated. “That is not allowed. You have to say ‘sorry.’ Do it now.”
Hannah put the tray back down on the table and let her hand rest near the still-steaming cup of coffee. She opened her mouth, about to share the words “make me” with him, when a voice called out from nearby.
“Hey Silvio, what kind of muffins do they have today?”
Hannah looked over to see Merry Bartlett, complete with her pigtails and rainbow scrunchies, walking over. Instead of jeans and a tie-dyed shirt, today she was wearing a completely tie-dyed, long-sleeved dress that looked like she made it herself.
“Blueberry and banana nut,” he said without hesitation. “And this girl has to apologize for taking my spot.”
“Hey buddy,” Merry said playfully, “Hannah didn’t know about your spot. She only got here yesterday. You can’t expect her to learn everything all at once.”
“Maybe not,” Silvio replied, his hands and the tray still shaking slightly, “but she still has to apologize to make it right.”
Merry glanced over at Hannah, who shook her head ‘no’ ever so slightly. Silvio missed it but Merry seemed to get it. There was only so far Hannah could go. She wouldn’t poke the guy. She’d even move. But she wasn’t going to apologize to this sewer-breath obsessive.
“I apologize on her behalf,” Merry said cheerily. “That should be good enough, Silvio. After all, you love me.”
That seemed to break the tension. The tray stopped shaking just as the security guard arrived. He stood directly in front of Silvio and put his hand on his shoulder.
“We’re going to have our meal in our room, today, Silvio,” he said firmly.
At that instruction, all the agitation seemed to evaporate from his body. It was as if, freed of having to make the choice for himself, all his stress disappeared. He walked off meekly, with the guard’s arm still on his shoulder.