Neverland by Jeff Dosser

Author:Jeff Dosser
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Solstice Publishing
Published: 2018-06-23T14:31:26+00:00

Chapter 3

Dr. Angela Macon’s inner office was much the same as any doctor’s office Mark had ever seen; the ubiquitous mahogany desk, the tall-backed chair behind, the wall of oak framed diplomas, a potted plant resting tastefully atop an antique side table and two comfy chairs positioned before the doctor’s desk.

He squirmed in the leather seat as Dr. Macon opened the door and stepped in. “Thanks for coming by, Detective Boyd,” Although her hand was small and thin in Mark’s grip, her handshake was firm and warm. “I’m glad you could take the time to meet with me.” She moved around the desk and dropped into the plush chair.

Brushing back a lock of long, brown hair she adjusted her glasses and considered a thick folder lying in the center of her desk. “Now I hear you’re pulling Abe out of treatment.” She opened the folder and leaned above it, elbows on the desk as if defending its contents from attack.

Mark cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s right, doc. I’ve decided to retire from the department.” He crossed his legs and leaned back. “We’re going to sell the house and buy a place out in the country.”

“Ah,” she steepled her finger and studied him with sharp brown eyes. “So, you’re just changing doctors, not terminating therapy?”

Mark grimaced and sat up. He’d anticipated resistance to halting Abe’s sessions. He didn’t need to be told what was best for his son, but he was sure Macon was about to do it anyway.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked. She pulled a sheet of paper from the folder and examined it before closing the folder and shoving it to the edge of the desk. “Abe is a resilient young man, and he’s made great strides in the eighteen months since his mother’s murder.” She removed her glasses and folded them carefully before placing them atop the folder. “But Abe’s got a very long way to go before he’s better. I won’t say cured because he’ll always carry the blame of his mother’s death, the trauma of his encounter, but he’s still a very troubled young man.”

Mark nodded, acknowledging her words. “I understand that,” he said. “But I believe Abe needs time to be a boy.” His gaze shifted to the diplomas on the wall trying to figure how best to present his ideas without sounding like a fool, or worse, a bad father. “I think Abe needs to quit focusing on all the bad. I don’t mean to say forget it, but all he does is talk about his sessions, how he’s working through this or confronting his feelings of guilt about that.”

“That’s part of the healing process,” Macon interrupted. “Those are the kind of things we want Abe to discuss. We don’t want him bundling up his emotions or sealing over his pain.”

“I get that,” Mark said. “But he’s so focused on working through his issues that he’s forgotten how to be a kid.” Was this the right thing to do? Mark stood up, paced the confined space behind the chairs.

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