The Quiet Girl by S. F. Kosa

Author:S. F. Kosa
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2020-05-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

She told Ivy that she was meeting a friend. Beth Dover. They’d gone to middle school together, until Maggie had gone away to Lexington Christian Academy. Far away, not far enough.

It was a risk; she hadn’t talked to Beth in years. But she remembered—Beth was Jewish. She wasn’t part of the church; her parents weren’t part of the church.

Dr. Schwartz’s office was in a suite, but there was no receptionist. Just a waiting room with one other person sitting in a chair near the window. He gazed out at the parking lot as if he were willing himself alone again. Maggie sat close to the door as if willing herself to accommodate. She was pondering making a run for it when a door opened, disgorging a middle-aged woman who walked swiftly out of the suite, a tissue peeking from between her clenched fingers.

Dr. Schwartz poked her head out not three seconds later. Their eyes met. “Hey,” she said with a smile. “Come on in.”

Maggie got up and headed toward the door. The office was larger than she expected. A bookcase lined one wall. A couch, a coffee table, a chair, a fluffy area rug, a throw blanket.

And a chess set. Of course.

“Do you play?” asked Dr. Schwartz.

Maggie tore her eyes from it. She smiled blandly. “No, never.”

“I could teach you.”

Maggie put a hand on her stomach as if her palm could smooth the nausea down, shove it back where it belonged. She shook her head.

Dr. Schwartz watched her. Looked back and forth from Maggie to the board, its knights and pawns and bishops and queens waiting for an opening gambit. Maggie shuddered.

Dr. Schwartz gestured at the couch. “Would you like to sit down? Can I get you some water?”

“I’m fine.” She took one slow breath, then another, and sank into the couch. Pulled a pillow to her middle. Dr. Schwartz sat in the chair facing her, a notepad in her lap. Maggie examined the area rug.

“I wasn’t sure you’d call me back,” Dr. Schwartz said. “I’m so glad you did.”

Maggie nodded. “I figured, why not?”

Dr. Schwartz appeared to know the value of strategic silence. “It’s been five days since you were discharged,” she said after a solid minute of quiet. “How are you doing?”

About to shake herself apart in midair, shedding engines and propellers, flaps and wings. “Mostly okay.”

“I’m glad. Are you planning to go back to school in September?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been through something, Maggie.”

“But I can’t remember it.” She looked over at the doctor. “Can you help me remember, Dr. Schwartz?”

“You can call me Lori if you like. And I have to be honest with you: I’m not sure.”

“Why?”

“Our brains are amazing contraptions, Maggie. Sometimes the brain seals off parts of memory. It’s a protective mechanism. Meant to keep you functioning. Does that make sense?”

“Sure. But can’t you, you know, hypnotize me or something?”

Lori’s smile was gentle. “Would you like me to?”

“You can?” Maggie laughed. “I thought that was something that only happened on TV.”

“Nope. We can decide together if that’s something we should do.

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