6. Hanna
HANNA
“It’s open!” I call out when I hear a knock at my front door.
Standing in the kitchen of my apartment, I smile at my dad when he walks in.
When I take in his outfit, I realize he has on his favorite pair of New Balance sneakers with his socks pulled high as if he’s ninety-seven and suffering from circulation issues.
Really, he’s hardly sixty and in better shape than most men his age.
Since it’s Saturday morning, he’s coming by so we can go on our weekly walk around downtown before he and George go about their weekend plans.
Our little morning ritual is something we started once he and Mom got divorced.
I think he asked me on the first walk because he was worried about how I was processing the divorce and his coming out so late in life.
With both of us being very open, emotionally aware humans, talking about our feelings isn’t something we struggle with.
One walk turned into two, then three, and after a few weeks, the habit stuck and is now something we both equally look forward to.
“There she is, my beautiful daughter.” I can’t help but smile back at him as he steps towards me and pulls me into a hug.
“Hi, Daddy,” I hum into his ear and give him a squeeze.
He and I have always been close, even when I was little. I know girls tend to gravitate more towards their mothers and while I admire my mom more than anyone, I’ve always been a daddy’s girl.
“How’s Georgie?” I ask, pulling away and handing him a caffeine-free tea.
Being a bit of a health nut, my father prefers to stay away from anything he deems “a threat to life longevity” and that includes caffeine.
I couldn’t care less about life longevity.
I could go tomorrow and if that’s my fate, I’d do it knowing the sweet, sweet taste of God’s fine nectar that is coffee.
He smiles at the name I call his partner. “He’s good. He’s at home with Wilson enjoying the cooler morning. When I left they were out on the veranda listening to the Rat Pack on vinyl.”
“The one I got him for his birthday?”
“The very one, sunshine.” My cheeks pull back into another smile. I know how much George loves the classic band. It makes me happy knowing he enjoys his gift.
“And how’s Wilson?” I scootch myself up onto my countertop and take a seat, gently swinging my legs as I sip my coffee.
“Fat. Constantly sleeping. Only wants affection when he’s interested in it. Pretty much living every orange tabby cat’s dream.”
After separating from Mom and moving into his own space, one of the first things Dad did was go to the local animal shelter and adopt a cat.
He’d wanted one for the longest time but could never get one because of Mom’s allergies.
It’s a good thing Wilson accepted George when he came around or else I’m not sure what Dad would have done.
Probably show George the door seeing as how I’m convinced he loves that cat more than he loves me.
I chuckle and nod my head. “Sounds like the dream life of most humans,” I joke.
He tips his mug in my direction. “You got that right.”
After finishing our drinks, I slip on my sneakers and grab my jacket.
Creatures of habit, we turn left out of my building like we always do and head towards the market that sits in the center of downtown.
Living in Charleston my entire life, I know this city like the back of my hand.
Walking is something I do when I need to clear my head and I make it a game to challenge myself to go a new way every time I go out on my own.
Charleston is a city that you see best on foot and I’ve been lucky enough to see almost every nook, cranny, and alleyway this city has to offer.
“So, how was your week? I know we talked on the phone when we were having family breakfast but tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” I start, double checking that there aren’t any cars coming before walking into the street to avoid having to step over an oversize tree root that’s pushed through the sidewalk.
The city has a rule that if a tree trunk has surpassed a certain diameter, you aren’t allowed to remove it.
Because of said rule, many of the sidewalks around downtown are cracked and broken as massive tree roots exploded underneath the hardened concrete.
“It was a standard week in the office. I had one new patient on my schedule which was interesting and I got to see Rae for coffee.”
“How is Miss Rae? I haven’t seen her in ages.” I love that he calls her Miss Rae. I’m not sure what sparked the nickname but ever since they met when I was in school, he’s always called her ‘Miss Rae.’
“She’s good, busy, but good,” I reply with a shrug.
“You girls work too hard. You need to go out and have a little fun.” When he shimmies his shoulders at me I can’t help but laugh embarrassingly.
“Oh my god, Dad, don’t do that again,” I beg.
“Do what? This?” He shimmies harder as we walk down the sidewalk, getting close and bumping into me, making me laugh harder. A few people walking by glance at us, staring at the sideshow he’s putting on. “You don’t like my moves, sunshine?”
“Daddy, stop. You’re ridiculous. You don’t have moves, you’re an old white guy. Old white guys don’t have ‘moves,’” I point out, holding his arms down in an attempt to get him to stop.
“George likes my moves,” he mutters before looking at me out of the corner of his eye with a half smirk.
“Ugh! Dad! No! I do not need to know about George and your moves!” I cover my ears with my hands and shriek. This gets him to double over in laughter. While I might be mortified by his attempt to talk about his sex life, at least he’s not shimmying anymore.
“Okay, okay, I’m done,” he promises. “But I mean it, you and Miss Rae work too hard. You should go out, have fun, meet new people.”
“Yeah, in all my free time.” I roll my eyes.
After coming out of residency, I hustled hard to build up my client base so I could go out on my own and start my practice.
My hustle included long days of client sessions and nights catching up on paperwork and billing.
The reality of psychology is that only half of your time is spent with patients.
The other half is spent on paperwork, scheduling, and my least favorite thing, dealing with insurance.
Many of my patients needed to have a prescription filled or want to use their insurance to pay for their sessions.
Unfortunately, many insurance companies don’t want to take care of the people who paid them good money to do just that.
I’m not going to let that stop me though.
For the clients who can’t get the help they need from their insurance, I offer discounted services and set them up with low-cost or free medications when they need it.
“You need to have better work life boundaries,” my dad says in the intonation he uses when he is trying to be delicate.
“I have healthy work life boundaries. I no longer work on the weekends and I never take my paperwork home with me. I’m just so exhausted by Friday that I want to go home and sleep the whole weekend.”
He clicks his tongue at me. “I still think you and Miss Rae need a girl’s night out. Could do you a whole lot of good.” He tips his head at me in a way only dads can do.
We continue on our walk, taking in the city as we go.
Pastel painted buildings and old ivy make me feel at home while the November sun warms our skin.
It’s the perfect weather to get to wear a jacket without simultaneously sweating your butt off.
A cool breeze off the ocean keeps things cool and knocks the humidity down a few notches.
It never gets ‘cold’ by traditional standards in Charleston which I’m fine with.
I’ve never liked cold weather. The few times it snowed growing up I was miserable until the sun came back out for good.
“What are you and—”
I start to ask him about his weekend plans with George when the sound of a fire engine wails from down the street.
I turn over my shoulder to look for it and pause, waiting for it to get closer.
Within seconds, the massive red truck comes barreling down the narrow road.
Men sit backwards inside the truck, headphones on, and I can only assume mentally bracing for whatever bad day they’re about to step into.
Watching it whizz past me, I can’t help but think about the surly man who was sitting in my office not even seventy-two hours ago and wonder if he’s somewhere on that truck.
“Han? You okay?” Turning around, my dad is taking a few steps closer to me, not having stopped to watch the truck drive by.
“Ye–yeah, I’m fine.” I nod my head and force a smile.
“Something the matter? You look a little upset.” He reaches over and gives me a reassuring pat on the arm.
“I promise, I’m okay. The siren just surprised me, that’s all.
” Shaking my head, I continue down the sidewalk next to him in silence.
My ears can’t help but lock onto the sound of the siren, listening hard until it’s completely disappeared into the distance.
Even when it’s gone, I can still feel myself searching for the sound.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, sunshine?”
“Can I ask you a patient question?”
I see him mule over my question, pressing his lips together like he does when he’s thinking deeply. “As long as it doesn’t go against doctor patient confidentiality, sure.”
“Oh, no, it won’t.” I bite down on my lip and try to formulate my question. “Have you ever known something about a patient that they didn’t know you knew?”
His eyebrows twist up in confusion. “You know something about them that they don’t know you know?”
“Yeah, exactly,” I confirm.
“I’m not one to look up my patients before they come and see me,” he responds, looking at me questioningly.
“No, Dad, come on. Do you think I’d do that?” I scoff, offended by his accusation. “No, this patient was referred to me by a superior and their superior told me why they were having the patient come and see me.”
“Ahh, I understand.”
“But when I saw the patient, let’s call them Turtle, they acted like they were fine when I know they aren’t. Going through something like they have, I know there’s a lot of emotional damage there that needs to be unpacked and healed.”
“Hanna, you know as well as I do that we can’t force people to come and see us. We also can’t force people to face their demons until they’re ready,” he reminds me with a comforting smile. There’s so much understanding in his gaze that it almost makes my heart hurt.
I purse my lips together. “I know. I just…I worry, that’s all. They work a pretty intense job and I worry that something bad will happen on the job because they haven’t worked through things.”
I could see the pain in Miles’s eyes when he sat across from me in my office.
He put on a pretty good front but my innate ability to read people’s emotions wasn’t immune to his hard exterior.
I could see the pain and the hurt he’s carrying with him, and when he walked out of my office without sharing anything, I worried he’d be left carrying that hurt with him for a very long time.
“You have a big heart, Hanna Smith, and I love you for it. But we can only help people who want to be helped. Maybe one day soon, Turtle will come back and pop out of their shell with you. The only thing you can do is be there in case they do.”
When he reaches for my hand and gives it a shake, I can’t help but smile at him. He’s right, I know he is. But that still doesn’t stop me from worrying about Miles and that something might happen because he isn’t willing to face what he’s survived.
“Now, let’s go finish this walk and maybe, if we have time, I can show you more of my moves back at your apartment before I have to go home.”
Then, as we turn another corner, he starts to dance in the most horribly embarrassing way right there for everyone to see and I can’t help but groan.
“Dad, stoooooop.”