CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN Hunter

" A nd what did you decide to make for your meal choice?" she asked.

I glanced at the clock on my new microwave. Amazon delivered it the day before. I still had no idea how a company could ship an eighty-nine-dollar kitchen appliance all the way to Plentywood for that price.

"Jill suggested her famous bean casserole. It's his favorite dish," I answered, having noticed the time and that Bonnie and I were close to wrapping up another session. My tenth in two weeks.

"Jill is Mark's sister, correct?" she asked, having learned my family-and-friend tree rather quickly. I'm sure she kept notes as well.

"Yes," I replied. "She's like having a sister of my own, too."

"Have you told her that, Hunter?"

I hesitated to answer. Had I? "I think so," I said. "Maybe."

"I bet Jill would like to hear you tell her that. Confirm what she means to you. Can you do that?" she asked. I didn't answer straight away. "I bet you can," Bonnie answered for me.

"Still a hardass, I see," I muttered.

"Not a hardass, Hunter. I prefer cheerleader," she corrected. "Someone who wants the best for you and knows you have it in you. Sort of how Jill sounds when you speak about her."

"I'll try."

"That's all we can do, right?" she mused. "Now, how did lunch go with your father?"

"You don't forget shit, lady, do you?"

"That's why you're paying me. So, did you tell him you remembered your childhood? Did you tell him a lot of it sucked?"

I had done just that and hearing her remind me of my homework cracked me up. "You must have kids," I said.

"This is about you, Hunter," she stated, as usual, revealing nothing personal about herself. "How'd your father take it?"

"Like the fucker he is," I said, chuckling. "But he did acknowledge his treatment of me and Mom."

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "I didn't expect him to do that. Acknowledgement is hard for an abuser."

"So you're sticking to the fact that you think he's an abuser?"

"He is an abuser, Hunter. That's why your mother left, remember?" she asked. "And also remember that you do not have to forgive or forget his behavior. It is perfectly okay for you to disown him, and it is perfectly okay for you to forge something new. But let me caution you. Something new means a relationship that is different from your old one."

"He apologized too."

Bonnie was silent for a moment, but I heard her pen scribbling notes while I waited. "And then what did you say?"

"I said nothing," I admitted. "I was caught off guard."

She paused again. "That is fine. But do me a favor. Acknowledge his apology and then let him know whether you can accept it. He is waiting to hear your decision, Hunter. Do not make him suffer unfairly while he does."

"He never gave a shit about how I felt as a kid," I angrily reminded her.

"True. You're right. But you're an adult now. You get to make these decisions. With or without his permission."

"Okay," I mumbled.

"Just a call or a stop by. That's all you need to do. Let him know where you stand, Hunter. As an adult today. Not the child you were. And discuss where you'd like to go from here."

"Got it."

"I appreciate your effort, Hunter," she said for the hundredth time in two weeks. "You're working hard and your progress shows. I am so proud of you."

I was getting attached to the stranger on the phone. And I hated to admit that she seemed like a mother figure to me in such a short time. But my mind also knew she was trained to be who she was. Her careful suggestions and caring ways helped me to understand ways to accept things that happened to me. I realized I was not alone.

"Five minutes," she announced. "Anything else for today?"

"I'm going to ask him tonight," I said. "Like you said, I want him to know."

"Is this Ben we're speaking of now?" she clarified.

"Yes. I'm going to ask him for his help."

"Okay," she said, sounding cautious. "What if Ben refuses to help?"

"Then I'll add another fifty sessions with you," I quipped.

She rolled right over my curt response. "Because he could, Hunter. You do understand that he might not be prepared for this big of a change from you."

"He doesn't really know me, though. Not really," I said. "But I want him to."

"And what about Mark, Hunter? Where does Mark fit into this decision?" she inquired.

"He doesn't," I admitted. "This will be my decision. And," I began. "I'm hoping wherever he is that he's happy for me."

"The Mark you've described to me sounded like the sort of man who would be proud of you, Hunter. I know I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Bonnie. I mean it. Thank you for your time."

"Of course, young man," she replied. "We're not done with each other just yet, but I'm rooting for you."

"Same time Monday?" I asked.

"I wouldn't miss it," she said. "I look forward to hearing how Ben feels about this emerging person."

"Do you think he'll want to help me?" I asked, needing some encouragement to face Ben in less than an hour.

"What do you think he'll want to do, Hunter?" she asked, turning the tables on me once again. "That's what matters."

"I think he will," I confessed, realizing we were two minutes over. "I owe you two minutes, boss," I joked.

"I'll get you next week," she said. "And remember, Hunter. You can make choices, too."

"Goodnight, Bonnie."

I clicked off the call and stood up. The smell from the kitchen alerted my stomach that I hadn't eaten since a bowl of Frosted Flakes that morning. Bella gave me her best ‘ You didn't feed me, either ,' glare.

"Sorry, girl," I said, immediately receiving a wagging tail and forgiveness.

I walked through my house, checking on everything and wondering if my choices looked good. I left the lights on in every room because it made things seem brighter. A goofy candle that Jill had given me burned on the kitchen counter. She'd been correct. Vanilla did smell nice in a house.

A vehicle door slammed shut from the driveway. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, glancing at a mirror I'd relocated to the living room. I needed a haircut. My usually buzzed head had a quarter inch too much hair. I ran my hand over my head and smiled at myself.

"He could say yes," I said, talking to the man in the mirror.