Christ, my mother. Time for a Freudian analysis. “My mother died when I was twelve.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that. Were you close to her before then?”
“When I was really little, yeah. But then she changed.”
“How did she change?”
“She got very depressed. My sister was born prematurely when I was ten, and she almost died. Maybe my mother had postpartum depression. I don’t know.”
“That’s quite possible. Are you saying she took her own life?”
I nodded. She might very well have had postpartum depression, but that wasn’t why she took her own life.
“How about your father? Were you and he close?”
I was surprised she didn’t ask me anything further about my mother’s suicide. Wasn’t that a shrink’s wet dream? “No, not really. He was closest to my older brother, Jonah. Come to think of it, he was pretty close to my younger b
rother, too, and of course to Marjorie, the only girl. She was Daddy’s little girl if there ever was one.”
“I see. Tell me about your family dynamic. You say you have an older and younger brother.”
“Yeah. Jonah is thirty-eight, I’m thirty-five, and Ryan is thirty-two. Marjorie didn’t come along until a lot later. She’s twenty-five.”
“So she doesn’t even remember her mother.”
“That’s right.”
“So back to your father. How old is he now?”
“He died seven years ago, right after Marjorie left for college. Heart attack.”
“I’m very sorry about that.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Well, like I said, we weren’t all that close.”
“Let’s talk a little bit about your childhood, then. Were you and your brothers close growing up?”
“Yeah, when we were little.”
“What do you mean by that—when we were little?”
“I guess I mean up until about the time I was ten.”
“So what happened when you were ten?”
I stood up, my heart pounding out of my chest. The walls—dank concrete walls—surrounded me. Closed in on me…
I drew in a deep breath. “I have to leave now.”
“We still have a lot of time. I’m happy to stay and help you as much as I can today.”
“No. Don’t worry. I’ll see that you’re paid for your time. Double for coming in on the weekend.”
“Talon, that’s not nec—”
I walked out the door quickly, beads of perspiration emerging on my forehead, my heart beating a rapid staccato.
Before I had gotten to the door, my legs turned to gelatin and gave out from under me, and I fell.