Ace Jones: Mad Fat Adventures in Therapy Read Free Page B

wooden anvil looking thing falls on my head and kills me graveyard dead. Even though it’s relatively cool in the waiting area, I start to sweat. I stand up and walk to the closest window.
    â€œDo you think it’s going to snow?” I ask Aurelia.
    â€œI hope so,” she says. She’s using the eraser end of her pencil now.
    â€œThis house is so quiet,” I say.
    â€œYes,” she replies. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
    â€œIt is.” If I could get my mind as calm and peaceful as this lovely old house, I’d be in good shape. I’m glad I came here today. Maybe I need to start buying pencils. Wooden pencils with which to write on recycled paper. I could erase things so easily. Why can’t my house be this quiet?
    â€œGraciela?” I turn to see Rosemary Tallis, who has appeared like a vision on the opposite side of Aurelia’s block desk-thing. Rosemary is wearing a long-sleeved shirt embellished with fabric flowers. Her skirt is long and flowing, like her hair. I smile and nod. “Please come on back.” Aurelia gives me a little wave and I follow Rosemary down a short hallway.
    There are lit candles all over Rosemary’s office, and the curtains on the windows appear to be made from the same gauzy fabric as her shirt. The walls are a soft shade of yellow, and there is a collage of empty frames between the windows. She motions to the plush sofa. I lie down and look up at the ornate ceiling tiles. I could sleep here for days.
    After some small talk, Rosemary asks, “Is this your first visit to a therapist?”
    â€œNo,” I sigh. “When I was younger, I saw a lady for about a year.”
Oh please let’s not rehash my childhood.
    â€œDo you feel the issues you saw her about were resolved?”
    â€œI do,” I say. “Fully.”
    â€œOkay,” she says. She crosses her legs and picks up a manila folder. She flips it open and starts to write. I can’t help but notice that she too is using a wooden pencil with an eraser. I want to ask what she’s writing. Actually, I’d like to see it. “So what brings you here today?” she asks. I wonder if I should tell her about the gift certificate, but I have a feeling she already knows. Aurelia made no mention of fees or payment. She didn’t even ask to see my ID. When I don’t respond, Rosemary says, “Do you mind if I call you Ace?”
    â€œNot at all,” I say. I wonder how much about me she already knows from Chloe.
    â€œWhat’s on your mind today, Ace?”
    I don’t even know where to start. I stare at the ceiling tiles, waiting for her to say something else but she doesn’t. “I’m not very happy right now,” I say finally.
    â€œGo on,” she says.
    â€œI’m teetering on miserable.” That’s the understatement of the year. I’m drowning in the misery tank. “And every day it gets a little worse.” I look at her and she nods. We stare at each other for a minute. Oh, what the hell? I might as well tell her the whole story. Chloe is probably paying good money for this and it might actually make me feel better. God knows I’m tired of feeling bad all the time. “I’m not one to think life should be all cotton candy and lollipops, but I just can’t seem to see the brighter side of things anymore. I made some bad decisions—well, not bad, necessarily. I mean, nothing that I had to go to jail for. Okay, I’ve been to jail, but it wasn’t a bad decision and I almost went to jail last week, but the lady I punched in the face didn’t show up for court so they let me go.” Wow. I’m horrible at this. “That’s not really as bad as it sounds.” Or maybe it is.
    â€œYou punched someone in the face?” Rosemary is writing again.
    â€œUh, yeah.”
    â€œWhy?” She crosses her legs in the opposite direction. Rosemary is a very pretty