Chapter 36
Nic
I close the door behind my final client, the click of the lock echoing loud inside my head. When I turn back to face my office of many years, I don’t know what to do with myself. I haven’t been able to bring myself to end the lease of this space where I listened to so many people’s stories.
Lois and I found this place together. Her stamp is all over it with its many plants and colorful accents.
Before I received my first client, she gave me a mug with the text Feelings Are Welcome Here which I’ve always kept in a spot on the bookshelf only I can see from my desk.
I grab it and wrap my hands around it. I glance at her picture.
It was taken on the day of her sixtieth birthday.
“Can you believe I’m Dr. Cougar now,” I say to her forever-still face. How the role reversal would have delighted her. I like to think that Lois would approve of Avery.
My phone rings, pulling me from my memories.
“Hi, darling,” Derek says. “How are you holding up? Do you want me to come and get you? Take you somewhere for ludicrously expensive cocktails?”
“I’m okay.” I’m not entirely sure if it’s the truth.
I’m both okay with the decision I had to make and not okay with no longer being able to practice.
“Avery’s picking me up, but thanks for offering.
” She insisted I not drive myself to the office this morning so she could pick me up on my final day of licensed practice and take me somewhere—I don’t know where, but clearly not to Derek’s, whose company I could definitely do with tonight.
“Fair enough,” Derek says. “Although I was hoping to get you drunk enough to finally spill what you really think of all your clients.”
“It’s not because I no longer have a license that I’m no longer bound by confidentiality,” I say.
“I know.” Derek sounds almost solemn. “I just wanted to check in. See how you were holding up.”
“I think I’m at peace with it, although that doesn’t make it any less hard to give up doing what I love.”
“Like that time I decided to give up the A-list in order to be my most authentic queer self.”
“And your marriage to Ida Burton.”
“Our marriage was so lavender it made my eyes hurt.” Derek chuckles into the phone. “Yet the tabloids always called us Hollywood’s hottest couple.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Sometimes you have to give up something to get something better in return. It’s the only way.”
“Yeah.” I’m giving up a lot—a lifetime worth of work—but I have not a single doubt that Avery is worth it.
A soft knock comes on the door.
“Thanks for calling. I have to go.”
“Okay, darling. Love you. Call me if you need me and if you don’t.”
“Yes,” I call after I’ve hung up.
The door opens, and in walks Avery, looking ravishing as ever.
“Oh, fuck,” she says. “So many instant flashbacks to when I first met you here.”
“Who would have thought the first time you sat down in my client’s chair, that this would happen?” I walk over to her and hug her tight, needing every ounce of comfort I can get.
“Are you all right?” Avery asks.
“Better now you’re here.” Avery’s energy changes the vibe in my office.
While I hold her, I glance at my chair that I’ll never use in the same capacity again. At my framed degrees on the wall. At the other chair that will never again be filled by a client.
Ambivalence runs riot within me as I’m fully aware I’m losing a big part of who I was, but at the same time—and as Derek alluded to—making room for who I get to be next. With Avery.
Instead of an intimate dinner—or cocktails, as Derek would have—Avery takes me straight to the Rainbow Shelter.
In the parking lot, she turns to me with a soft smile on her face, and says, “Having had the immense privilege of getting to know you better.” She reaches for my hand.
“I’ve learned that your thing, what makes you uniquely you, is helping others.
It makes you who you are and you had to give it up for us to be together.
” She gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t take some time off to process everything, but I have arranged for you to meet with Justine to discuss what could be possible for you here, at the shelter. ”
“You’ve ambushed me with altruism.” I curl my fingers tightly around Avery’s. “Leaving me no time at all to wallow.”
“It’s just a meeting,” Avery says, not taking the wide-open opportunity for a snarky comment about not wanting to be my only client from now on. “Just to soften the blow of having to say goodbye to your practice.”
“Thank you.” I appreciate the gesture and, even more so, the thought behind it. Although to immediately try to replace one thing with another is a very Avery thing to do—to not leave space for some reflection—but I easily let it go, because she did this for me. And she was more than right to do so.
When we go inside, some of the residents’ mouths fall wide open at the sudden sight of Avery Hall. Because these are not pesky journalists trying to bait her into a juicy quote, Avery gives them all her attention—and even willingly poses for endless selfies.
After Justine has welcomed me and thanked me profusely for coming, she says, “Obviously, you can’t practice the way you’ve always done here either, nor have one-on-one sessions with the residents, but there’s plenty of work.
” That sounds more like Justine: borderline blunt and always to the point.
“The kids would really look up to someone like you.”
“Because I’m Avery Hall’s old lady?” I joke.
Justine emits a wry chuckle. “I have noticed a change in behavior toward me since Sienna and I have been together.” Her lips spread into a smile. “Although the biggest impact Sienna made was setting up a permanent fund for the shelter with her father’s inheritance.”
“Wow. Really?” That’s the first I’m hearing of that, meaning that Avery probably doesn’t even know. Sienna is extremely generous and discreet. And without her, I might never have met Avery. She might never have walked into my practice.
“We have actual full-time employees now who get paid a respectable wage. It’s been a total game changer,” Justine says.
“Just to be clear,” I say. “I’m not looking to get paid. I’m here as a volunteer.”
“Thank god. Sienna told me how much one session with you costs.” Justine breaks the ice between us more and I can only appreciate her straightforward manner—and what she has built here.
I smile, then say, “Unhoused queer youth aren’t just dealing with poverty and trauma.
They’re dealing with rejection at the most formative point of their lives.
Rejection from their families and the systems that were supposed to protect them.
That kind of dislocation profoundly rewires their sense of worth. ”
“Exactly.” Justine looks me in the eye. From the movie about her life, I know this happened to her as well. Building the shelter is how she responded.
“I’d like to help with restoring some of these kids’ self-worth,” I say. “But before I do that, I should probably rotate through all the volunteering positions where you think I could be helpful.”
“I can see why Avery fell for you,” Justine says, paying me the biggest compliment she has so far. “But how are you feeling, this being your last day?”
“Sad, but also ready for something new.”
“Let me tell you something I never thought I would say.” Justine’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Being a hot, young movie star’s cougar comes with considerable perks.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I say in between chuckles.
“But let’s also make a pact for us cougars to stick together. Kate’s too young for me to form that kind of alliance with, but you’re perfect.” Yet another side of Justine, who may well become my new boss, that delights the hell out of me.