Lethe appeared much happier than Senorita Lorenzo recalled. The last time she saw him in her office, he was insecure and tense. There was also some awkwardness between them that caused her to consider finding him a new therapist.
Today Lethe was wearing brand new clothes and a confident grin. What caught the psychiatrist off guard was when he sat down next to her and immediately reached for her hand, as if to kiss it.
She recoiled from her patient while forcing a smile. “Is everything okay, Lethe?”
“Things couldn’t be better. I’ve met some new friends . . .”
The psychiatrist covered up her nervousness with, “Oh, I’m so happy for you. That’s wonderful.”
“Do you mind if I have a glass of your wine?” He asked boldly.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Then she looked at the half-empty bottle and said, “Fine, go ahead, but don’t drink too much.” She came to the park about twenty minutes ago and had been sitting here eating goat cheese on crackers before Lethe arrived.
Lethe drank at his psychiatrist’s approval. He loved the fact that she was so young and vibrant. “I think I got some of your lipstick on my mouth,” he said, chuckling to himself.
Senorita Lorenzo looked embarrassed. “Give me that,” she said, “You shouldn’t be drinking wine during the middle of the day. Now tell me about your new friends.”
“I was outside last Friday night taking one of my walks and lo and behold I met a group of Spaniards my age.” He reached for the wine glass again, but she held it away from him. Their bodies touched on the bench and the psychiatrist was starting to become visibly nervous. Lethe grew in confidence and felt like maybe his doctor was attracted to him.
Three pigeons plopped into the fountain across from their bench. Wings flapped merrily against the surface of the water. A busload of children was letting out by the entrance to the park.
“I don’t know what it is,” Lethe said, “But I’ve changed my perception of things.”
“How so?” The Senorita arched her shoulders and placed her hands on her lap.
“Well, for example, I don’t need to see a dermatologist anymore. You can cancel the appointment.”
“I can?” She’d never made an appointment in the first place.
“You’re gonna think I’m crazy, Senorita. But when I look in the mirror, my face looks fine. I don’t see any acne anymore.”
The psychiatrist smiled. Maybe he was getting better.
“You still need to find a job, don’t you? Otherwise your father won’t send your monthly allowance.”
“I found a job. My Spanish friends want me to help them run their mini bar at a local discotheque.”
The psychiatrist responded with a look of skepticism. “Do you think you’re father will go along with that?”
“You’re not going to tell him anything, right?”
“But that wasn’t the deal. The deal was, remember, that I would tell your father everything. I made this very clear at the beginning of our sessions.”
Lethe stared at his psychiatrist in juvenile irritation. Senorita Lorenzo cast a glance across the park and noticed one of her colleagues. Immediately she scooted away from Lethe and covered her legs. The colleague then looked in her direction and waved. She waved back.
“Who’s that?” Lethe asked.
“Just someone I know I from the clinic,” she said, watching the man disappear behind the parade of school children.
