Chapter Nine
Maya
I can’t shake the feeling of eyes on me.
It’s been there all day. Burning into me.
Piercing through me. It’s a sensation I usually love.
Crave even. But not now. Not when I was running this morning with my dogs.
Nor when I was walking into my office. And especially not now, with my sister and niece.
It’s unsettling.
Unnerving.
I glance over my shoulder, but there’s no one there.
Just buildings, cars, and people scurrying past, getting lunch or coffee before rushing back to their offices.
No one is watching me. No one is watching anyone.
They all have a singular focus. Get to their location as quickly as they can with as little human interaction as possible.
“So, Sunday?” Pippa asks, dragging me back to the present. “It’s only for a couple of hours.”
“Of course, you know I’ll take every minute possible with my favorite girl,” I say, squeezing Maddison and pulling her onto my lap. Four years old, and this girl has my entire heart. How could I ever say no to spending time with her? Maddie giggles and snuggles into me.
The love I have for her is overwhelming, but I can’t help the sorrow that chases me after spending time with her.
Knowing I’ll never have this. Never have a child of my own.
It guts me. Growing up as an adopted person who looks nothing like my family, I always dreamed of becoming a mother.
Having even one person who looked like me.
One person that others would see and not instantly know I wasn’t related to them.
One person I shared biology and blood with.
I don’t even know what my ethnicity is. I don’t know anything about where I came from other than I was left at a fire station as a newborn. As a kid, I dreamed of finding my birth family and having kids of my own, but the fairytale happily ever after isn’t on the cards for me. It never was.
“So, what are you up to on Sunday?” I ask, pushing down the emotions that have the power to overwhelm me if I let them. I’ll deal with them later on my own.
“I have a date,” Pippa responds, stirring her coffee and pointedly not looking at me. She hates how much I see through her defenses. I can’t turn off being a therapist, but this goes back a lot longer. Ever since I can remember, Pippa has hated that I can tell what she’s feeling.
“That’s a big step.”
“Please don’t therapize me right now,” she says with a sigh. “You know I wouldn’t change a thing about the world’s most amazing four-year-old, but I never planned to do this on my own. It’s lonely.”
“Well firstly, ‘therapize’ isn’t a word, and secondly, I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” I rest my hand over hers until she looks at me again. “Just a big step. I’m happy for you. And I’m happy to babysit anytime.”
“As long as it’s not Friday or Saturday nights?” she teases with a raised eyebrow. Pippa is the only person who knows where I spend those nights, and she has never judged me for it. If anything, she encourages it.
Monday to Friday, nine to five, is about work and my patients. On weekday evenings, I’m on call with my family. Between Dad’s health and Mom’s hypochondria, they call a lot. And with Pippa being a single parent, the support falls to me. Plus, Pippa and Maddie need me. Everyone needs me.
And I’m glad to be that person for them. Glad I can help them after all they have done for me. But still, it’s hard being everything to everyone. I love having something just for me.
Even if it is a little out there. Even if it isn’t exactly working out how I thought it would.
“Exactly,” I say with a small smile as Maddie begins to squirm. “I’m all yours on Sunday, though.”
“I want a cookie,” Maddie declares, gripping my arms with a sudden urgency. “Auntie Maya, can I have a cookie?”
“That’s up to your mom,” I tell her. If it were up to me, I would say yes to everything Maddie ever asked for. I can’t help how I always want to spoil her. But life is tough enough for Pippa; she doesn’t need me playing good cop all the time.
Maddie turns toward her mom. “Please, Mama. Please, please, please?”
“Let’s buy one for later, okay? You can have it after lunch.”
Maddie pouts, and I don’t know how anyone can say no to her. She has strawberry-blonde curls and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s the most beautiful thing in the world.
I breathe her in, inhaling her innocent, youthful essence. Summer berries and a hint of lemon. My favorite smell that has never failed to bring a smile to my face. Or at least it was my favorite before. Now when I think of scents I love, it’s a different kind of citrus that comes to mind.
We eat our lunch mostly in silence, interrupted only by Pippa prompting Maddie to keep eating when she gets distracted.
“I better get back to work,” I say, pushing my empty plate away.
“Are you okay, Maya?” Pippa asks, grabbing my hand. “You don’t seem yourself.”
“I’m fine. Preoccupied, I guess. Work stuff.”
Pippa gives me a soft smile and a knowing look but she doesn’t ask any further questions.
Work stuff. It’s what I say when I don’t want to share what’s going on in my mind. Everyone in my life knows I don’t discuss my patients, so mentioning that’s what I’m thinking about is the fastest way to shut down a conversation I don’t want to have.
“You work too hard,” Pippa tells me as she begins packing away the coloring pencils she had brought for Maddie.
“I love my work,” I say, hopefully reassuring her, and then I signal to the waitress. “Can I get the bill and two of those large cookies in a to-go box, please?”
“It’s my turn to pay,” Pippa objects when I hand over my card.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” I say.
“You don’t need to keep doing that. It’s been four years, I’ve got my shit together again,” she says, covering Maddie’s ears to cover the curse. “I’m back at work, and I’m dating. I don’t need my little sister to keep paying for me.”
“You can get it next time.” Pippa rolls her eyes because I say that every time.
I give Maddie one last squeeze and head back to my office. Awareness skitters down my spine, but whenever I glance over my shoulder, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to explain this feeling I can’t shake.
I roll my shoulders back and take deep, steadying breaths. Why am I smelling Ryan everywhere? That citrus scent seems to have permeated the air and swirls around me no matter where I go. But checking is not helping. The behavior doesn’t change reality. Checking is not helping.
And still, I look. I shouldn’t. Of course, I shouldn’t. It only reinforces the compulsion. I know this. But if it were as simple as not giving in, I would have been able to stop a long time ago.
Compulsions kept me safe before. They were a way to ground myself when I felt like I was losing control. A way to push it all down. Until they became something I could no longer stop.
Breathe in for four seconds.
Hold for four seconds.
Out for four seconds.
Hold for four seconds.
I can do this. I am a strong woman. I do not let my urges control me.
Except I don’t believe it right now. It’s not true.
I can’t help myself as I glance around, cataloguing everything I see on my walk home.
The cars driving past, the people walking.
No one seems to be paying me any heed. I inhale through my nose, trying to notice any unfamiliar smells, but nothing stands out.
Even so, that prickling sensation of being watched remains, keeping me on edge.