It was Sunday morning and time to go. Fortunately, Cleo hadn’t asked to take the painting of the sea castle home. Sophia, honestly prayed the little imp would forget all about it FOREVER. The last thing she wanted in her home was that painting. As for the little blue note book, she had it tucked in her suitcase. For some reason she wanted to share it with Robert.

They all went outside. In the drive she hugged Kate and then her dad. His arms held her tightly. He knew she wasn’t doing well, but he hadn’t asked any questions. Her father’s approach to life was if you don’t know, it doesn’t exist. She kissed his cheek and released him. He had been her rock as a child, he still was. Softly he said, “You take care.”

“I will.”

He swung Cleo into her car seat and gave her a hug.

Cleo said, “We will come back real soon.”

“I’d like that, Sweetie.”

Sophia got in the car. Leaving home was always hard. She backed out and headed down the street. Soon she was caught up in the Houston traffic. How she hated the traffic! At least it was Sunday, so driving was manageable. Finally, they were out of the city. On the open road her thoughts drifted to her doctor’s appointment. First to Robert and then to Dr. Bettin, she had told her secret out loud. It was a relief that her individual secret was no longer individual. It was shared. It made her feel like she could breathe a little better.

The rest of the drive home was quiet. In the backseat Cleo was in sound a sleep. She was completely worn out from working in Grandpa’s garden, cooking with Grandma Kate and keeping everyone completely entertained. As Sophia neared Corpus Christi, she saw the gulls’ white wings spinning and turning in the clear blue sky. A head of her rose the bridge she detested. The steep incline up it and back down it always made her anxious. To her leftshe could see the gulf waters. Sun light dazzled across the waves. She braced herself as she began the climb. The Sunday afternoon traffic was a bit swifter than she was comfortable with, still she kept her head.

A lone pelican flew across the bridge. Its great brown wings were majestic and strong. As a child, Sophia had often wished she had been born with wings. She still did. Tightly she gripped the steering wheel and started down the slope of the bridge. This always made her tummy hurt. Her over active imagination without fail went into worst case scenario syndrome. She would loose control of the car, it would race down, ram into an embankment and burst into flames. Of course, that didn’t happen. The road flattened out. She sighed. They were still alive.

From the back seat, Cleo began to stir. Her sleepy voice asked, “Are we almost there?”

“Yes.”

“I bet Daddy was lonely.”

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Perhaps. Deep down, Sophia hoped so. When they pulled into the apartment parking lot. She saw Robert’s little blue VW. So, he was home and not at the lab. A part of her was glad, the other part of her was afraid of living with Robert now that he knew her secret.

The door of their apartment opened and Robert came out. He was wearing baggy cargo shorts and a faded concert shirt from his high school days. Though his smile was wary, there was warmth to it and concern. He came to Sophia and gave her a hug before he took Cleo out of her car seat. That brief moment of contact steadied Sophia. What ever their troubles may be, she and Robert still loved each other.

Inside, Cleo talked nonstop for half and hour. She told her daddy everything she had done. Her voice was happy and sing song. In the bedroom, Sophia unpacked and put away the luggage. She was just about to go into the living area, when Cleo said, “Oh, I almost forgot. I saw a painting my grandma made. Not Grandma Kate, but my other Grandma.”

Sophia froze where she was.

“It was a picture of a sea castle. I wanted to bring it home, but Mama thought it might upset Grandpa to ask him, cause, you know, that Grandma runned away.”

With concern in his voice, Robert asked, “Who told you she ran away?”

Cleo sighed, “Don’t remember. Just heard it. Big people don’t always remember little people are in the room.”

Robert just said, “That happens.”

*

It was late. Sophia had her mother’s notebook in her hands. Robert came out of the bathroom and climbed into bed beside her. He saw the notebook and asked, “What’s that?”

“Something my mom wrote when she was child.” She handed it to Robert. Slowly he read through it.” When he finished he asked, “It this what you experience?”

“Not exactly. She seemed to enjoy it. I never have.”

Robert wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He didn’t say it, but she knew, he had her back and she was grateful.

*

Three weeks later, Sophia sat in the psychiatrist’s office. The doctor’s name was Dr. Brown. The office smelled a bit funny, like mildew and Clorox. The sofa’s were faded blue and there was a large print of daisies on the wall. The waiting area was tiny. Sophia was seated on the sofa nearest the entry. Her hands had lost all feeling because she had them pressed tightly together. Her name was called, she got up. Dr. Brown came out. She was a large woman, built like a linebacker with gray curly hair. Red reader glasses where perched on her nose. Her voice was soft and southern when she said, “Would you like to come in Sophia?”

Everything in Sophia screamed, NO! Somehow she managed to get up anyway. She entered the room. The entire thing was decorated in cats. So many cats. She took the seat Dr. Brown motioned to. Her heart was pounding hard and her hands were sweaty. For several moments Dr. Brown looked at the questionnaire Sophia had filled out. Time stretched out and elongated. Sophia had to work really hard to keep her breathing steady.

Finally, kind brown eyes looked over the red reader glasses. Dr. Brown said, “So tell me about your episodes.”

Diving into her greatest secret with a total stranger felt too vulnerable, too raw. Yet, Sophia wanted to be okay for Cleo and Robert. She didn’t ever want to do to them, what Mama had done to her. With dry lips and a dry throat, she told the doctor about three of the incidents. She told her about the first time, the second time and the fourth time. The third time she was not ready to share. She would completely crumble if she went there.

Dr. Brown asked her about her sleep, her appetite, her moods. When she finished she said, “I’m not thinking you need medication right now, but I do think you should start talk therapy. I do think you have some things to work through. A therapist will help. Also I’d like a therapists opinion about your mental health.”

“Okay. Can you recommend someone?”

“The receptionist will give you a list of possibilities.” Dr. Brown stood. She was a very tall woman. “If you need anything, if anything happens, don’t hesitate to call.” When she smiled, Sophia felt a bit safer. She wasn’t all better, she didn’t know what was wrong with her, but she had started the journey. Now three people knew her secret. When she got her therapist, there would be four. There was safety in numbers. At least that is what she hoped.