Valeriya stole a sideways glance at the clock on the wall. It was one of those clocks from a 1980s school classroom – white with a black case, large numbers, a red second hand that wasn’t going fast as she would like…
“Val, are you in a hurry? We have fifteen minutes left for your session, but don’t let me keep you.”
Valeriya shook her head. “Sorry. I’m fine.”
Adam adjusted his glasses. “I know this is difficult for you. Anxiety and depression go hand in hand; but if you try to rush the sessions, I worry that you aren’t getting what you need out of our meetings.”
Valeriya sighed. “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.” An awkward silence followed. Adam, her counselor, let the silence continue.
“What was the question?” she finally said.
Adam smiled. “I asked you if you can remember anything comforting from your childhood. Sometimes, even the strongest adult can be soothed by a happy memory, or even an item from the past. Think Val – do you have any memories from childhood or adolescence that you might call on when these thoughts sneak into your mind?”
Val frowned. Several seconds passed. The clock on the wall emitted a faint, high pitched buzz. “I had a pet once.”
Adam nodded. “A pet. Good. Tell me about this pet.”
“She was a kitten,” Val said. “A brown striped mutt.”
“Mutts are dogs,” Adam said with a smile. “But I understand.”
“I just mean, it wasn’t anything special. But my dad brought it to me one morning. I woke up, and he was there with a kitten peeking out of his jacket. He found it abandoned in a woodpile while he was out hunting and brought it home to me.”
“Have you had any pets since?”
Val shook her head. “God no. That was my first and only pet. I had Smokie for eight years. It was all I had once my dad…you know.”
Adam nodded. He was well aware of Valeriya’s father’s grisly suicide. It was, after all, the underlying reason she was in counseling in the first place.
“Smokie was hit by a car after my mom left the door open,” she said. “I never wanted a pet again after that.”
“Understandable,” Adam said. “But I believe that companionship is a good thing. I recommend that you at least think about it. Maybe there’s another kitten out there needs you.”
“I don’t know,” Val said. “I’m so busy at work, and I don’t know if I want to take care of a living creature. My apartment isn’t big enough for a dog and a cat…well, what if it reminds me of my dad?”
“You’ll always be reminded of your father,” Adam said. “That’s going to happen no matter what choices you make. It’s normal.”
Valeriya glanced at the clock. Finally. The top of the hour. “It’s time!” she said and placed her purse strap on her shoulder. She stood. “Thanks again.”
Adam stayed seated. “You’re in such a rush, Val,” he said.
No shit, Valeriya thought. I don’t want to be here.
“Just think about it,” Adam said. “Get yourself another kitten. It’s proven to reduce stress, and face it Val, you could use a reason to open up and care for someone, something else. It will take the focus off of yourself.”
Val was already three steps out the door.
“He wants you to get a cat?”
Valeriya stirred her coffee after adding another sugar. She and her assistant, Jennifer, stood in the small office kitchen, talking about the night before. Jennifer was a good listener, Val knew, and she was aware of the court-ordered counseling sessions she had been attending on a weekly basis, ever since the ‘incident.’
“He didn’t specify it had to be a cat,” Val said, sipping the mediocre brew. “He thinks I should take care of something other than…”
“Other than yourself,” Jennifer nodded. “Eh, maybe. Probably better than a man,” she chuckled.
Val rolled her eyes. “Definitely don’t need a man right now,” she agreed. “That’s the last thing I need to bring into the house.”
Jennifer laughed. “You could use him for kickboxing practice!”
Val smiled. She had tried all kinds of remedies and therapies for “fixing” the deep anger “issues” that boiled under her skin at times. Boxing, kickboxing, long distance running, meditation, cooking classes, volunteering at a soup kitchen. To date, all these things did was add additional skills she could use when unleashing hell upon an unsuspecting victim.
“I can’t do that,” Val said. “I deleted Tinder, Bumble, and I don’t even look at my social media anymore. I don’t want to meet anyone new,” she said. “And that includes a cat. Or a dog.”
“Who got a dog?”
The women turned to the open hallway, where Antonio Gonzalez, the IT manager, stopped in the doorway. “Hello, ladies,” he said as he unscrewed a cap to an expensive looking water bottle. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said.
Jennifer moved to the side so Antonio could reach the water cooler. “No one got a dog,” she said. “Yet.”
“I am not getting a dog,” Val said, slightly annoyed.
“No? You should get a dog,” Antonio said. “Everyone loves a dog!”
“She needs a pet,” Jennifer said. “Doctor said so.”
Val shot her a sharp look. “Thanks, Jen,” she said. “Are you going to tell Antonio which medications I am currently taking?”
Jenn shrugged. “Sorry Val,” she said. “But I think your shrink is on to something.”
Val’s eyes grew wide and angry. “Really?!”
“Hey, it’s all good,” Antonio said, watching the water fill his bottle. “We all got shrinks these days.”
“So true,” Jen agreed. “So true.”
“You think about getting one of those fluffy ponies?” he asked.
“Ew,” Jennifer said. “Gross. Who the fuck wants a horse inside of the house?”
Antonio frowned. “Not a horse, a fluffy pony.”
Valeriya sipped her coffee. She should be in her office making calls. She had things to take care of. She vaguely remembered reading an article in the WSJ about Hasbio stock shooting up just prior to the ‘fluffy pony’ announcement, but she hadn’t heard much else. “I don’t know much about pets,” she said. “I had a cat once.”
“Check it,” Antonio said. “Fluffies are amazing pets! Well, ‘pet’ is kind of a misnomer.”
“If it’s an animal in your house that you have to take care of, it’s a pet,” Jennifer said.,
“Sort of,” Antonio continued. “But a fluffy pony isn’t like a horse,” he said. “It’s not even like any animal you’ve ever known.”
“Do you have to feed it?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes.”
“Does it poop?”
“Well, yes.”
“Do you have to take care of it?”
“Of course…”
“And it costs money?”
“Fine, it’s a pet,” Antonio conceded. “But it’s not a real animal.”
Valeriya frowned. “Sounds like a real animal to me.”
“It’s better than an animal!” Antonio moved his hands as he spoke, clearly passionate about animals. “You gotta check it out! They talk.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Just what Val needs, a talking animal!” She smoothed her suit jacket and grabbed her cup. “I’m out.”
“Bye, Jen,” Val said. “I’ll stop by your desk and grab those contracts in a bit.”
After Jen was down the hallway far out of hearing range, Val turned back to Antonio. “What do you mean, ‘they talk?”