The Interviews

A few days later, Tracy was driving her out into the country. She’d offered to take her in while she was still recovering from the shock of what she’d been through. Peyton was both surprised and appreciative. They first stopped at Peyton's house to gather some of her belongings. “This is a nice little gated community, and you have a great house, too.” “While I’ve always preferred rural, it’s not bad for being in the city. The house is a little too big for one person, though.” Tracy smiled understandingly. “No rats? I thought you bred them for people and stores.” “I do most of the time, but since I had a rough patch in life, I haven’t been able to focus on that. Been testing software, though.” After she ran water down the pipes and watered her plants, she gathered some clothes and personal items. They proceeded to leave when Peyton stopped. “Wait,” she said. “Despite the odds, I want to leave a note… just in case.” Tracy nodded knowingly. Peyton then scribbled something on a nearby notepad, and the two women went outside. Peyton's neighbor, a mousy-looking woman, was there to greet them both. They chatted briefly and then headed off. They didn’t say much during the drive as Peyton stared almost sullenly yet curiously out the window. Eventually, the buildings became homes, and then the homes became set further and further apart. “Wow, this is a beautiful town,” said Peyton. “You live here?” Tracy nodded. “Sure do.” “Didn’t realize you lived out in the country.” “It’s a very peaceful place to live. Like you once said was the case with you, I like peace and solitude as well.” “Well, yeah, after listening to people’s problems all day in that tiny, windowless office, I’ll bet this is a really nice reprieve.” Nearly half an hour after leaving Peyton's house, the two were pulling her belongings from Tracy’s compact silver-blue car. Peyton followed the counselor into her house. The two-bedroom country home was rustic and cozy. “Such a lovely place you have. Been here long?” “Yup. Twelve years.” Peyton's eyes swept the open lower level of the house; then, she turned to face the dark-eyed counselor. “Tracy, I thought you were married.” Tracy shook her head. “Nope.” “Any kids?” “Nope.” Peyton processed this information. For a split second, she wondered if Tracy were a lesbian, even hoped that she was. The tomboyish body. Certain things she’d said. Body language. Could it mean anything? Peyton always considered herself to be bisexual, and as much as it surprised her to admit it, she couldn’t deny that there was something about the woman. She hadn’t felt it right away. She had felt comfortable talking to her right away and could tell that she would be perhaps the most helpful counselor she would ever see, but those subtle little attractions weren’t there until recently. They seemed to grow with each session… the way she smiled, her dark piercing eyes, her intelligence, her calm demeanor… could it be…? No. No way. She’d be flattered, but she doubted she could get this lucky now that she was aging. “Would you like something to drink?” Tracy asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Yes, please. A glass of water would be nice.” Tracy fetched her a glass of water. Peyton sat on the stool by the counter as Tracy moved about the kitchen. After drinking some of the water, she said, “Can I help with anything? I’m not that out of it anymore.” Tracy flashed a smile as if she found her statement to be amusing. “Thanks, but I’ve got it. You like chicken marsala?” “I like anything that isn’t spicy.” “Ok, then. You can just relax while I make us dinner, and then I’ll give you a quick tour of where things are.” “Ok.” “Then you can just relax for the rest of the night.” A while later, Peyton was complimenting how wonderful dinner tasted, and then a horrifying thought hit her. “What’s wrong?” Peyton cleared her throat. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?” Tracy smiled. “I guess that’s part of what they train you to do; be really good at reading people.” “Yeah, something like that.” “Well, I don’t want to sound insulting.” “It’s ok,” Tracy encouraged. “Well… how do I know you didn’t put anything in my food?” “You’ll know when you see that you don’t end up having the same problems you had in the clinic.” “Oh, gosh, I must sound really offensive.” “No, not at all. I totally understand after what you’ve been through. I mean, when you can’t trust those you’re supposed to be able to trust, sadly, it makes it hard to trust pretty much anyone.” Peyton nodded. “How do you feel right now?” “Tired, a little depressed, and definitely angry.” “I don’t blame you.” “I’ll be so pissed off if those assholes get off just because they’re doctors and they have money.” “Yeah, but one thing’s guaranteed.” Peyton looked at Tracy expectantly. “They will definitely be losing their licenses to practice.”