Page 11 of The Sandbar saga

Chapter 4

Dr. Conner set a boxof crayons and paper down on the end table he'd moved in front of Katie. She refused to color a picture of something that makes her happy. How could she be happy when her mom was coming home tomorrow.

How could she be happy when her mother hadn't called her in four weeks to see how she was doing?

How could she be happy when Dr. Conner hadn't taken her on another bike ride since the day she'd run away from him.

All he'd done was pick her bike up out of the woods where she'd left it and parked it near the back door of the house as if he would return to ride with her again.

She wasn't going to ask him for anything ever again.

"Since you don't want to talk to me anymore, you can either write or draw the answers to my questions." Dr. Conner leaned back in the chair. "We've been working together for four weeks. You must know whether you answer or not, I'll come back for our next appointment."

She wasn't eight years old. The only time she used crayons was to color in the states and continents on a map at school. It was summer break. She wasn't going to do homework.

Pushing up from the chair, she headed toward the door. He could talk to himself.

"Sit down," he said, his voice deeper and sterner than she'd ever heard.

She stopped, keeping her back to him. "I don't want to," she mumbled, breaking her silence.

"If you're mad, tell me why."

"I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to answer your stupid questions. I don't want to look at you. I don't want you here." Her body stiffened, mad at herself for talking. "Just go away."

"I can't do that. Your mother hired—"

"Do you think she cares about me?" She swung around. "She doesn't."

"Why wouldn't she care?"

"Is she here? Has she asked you if you've shown up on Tuesdays and Fridays?" She crossed her arms. "She hasn't, so don't lie."

She wasn't sure if her mother had or hadn't been in contact with Dr. Conner. It no longer mattered because she wasn't talking about Dr. Conner. Her mother hadn't called her.

If her dad were alive, her mom would've called. Her dad always made her mom stop being mean to her. He'd even raise his voice and send her mother from the room if Katie got upset.

But, her father wasn't here.

He would never be here.

He was dead.

She trembled. A tickle rolled down her thigh. The inside of her leg.

Warmth flooded her body. A roar built up in her head. She closed her eyes, removing herself from the room.

If she couldn't see Dr. Conner. If she couldn't see where she was. If she couldn't see the humiliating results of her peeing in her shorts and making a puddle on the floor, it wouldn't be true.

Her dad would still be alive.

Dr. Conner would have no reason to come over.

A gentle touch picked up her hand. "Let's get you upstairs. You can show me where your bedroom is, and while you wash up, I'll find clean clothes for you."

She opened her eyes and kept them on the floor as he led her out of the room and to the stairs. Humiliated, she walked straight to her bedroom. Letting go of his hand, she ran into the joining bathroom and shut the door.

Sinking to the floor, she shivered from the dampness on her lower legs. Wanting only to be left alone, she stood again and stripped off her shorts and panties. She wet a washcloth and wiped her legs and private parts off.