A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter and Bam's story to XxBrieLikesCookiesXx. She shared something with me that was so sad and she is so strong to have gone through what she did and is still going through. It is also her birthday, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIE! Wish her a happy birthday on her profile, guys!

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          Fifteen

          With my new white dress smoothed over, I head towards the room I was called into. No parents hover in the foyer of the office because I asked them to pick me up after, so I breathe a sigh of relief. As I walk through an unfamiliar door I pick a red strand off from my side. It’s from the old quilt I had at the end of my bed last night, the one I pulled out all of the strands in the wee hours until it was merely threads.

            “Welcome, Alabama,” a man with thin, shiny glasses says. He holds the door open with his hand extending from his crisp, white dress shirt. When he turns around he’s all smiles, but I can’t stop staring at his receding blond hair.

            “Bam,” I correct.

            “Sorry,” he says, gesturing for me to sit down on an over-stuffed couch. “Welcome, Bam.”

            I sit down on the blue fabric and bounce a little. I run my fingers over both sides of me until Dr. Kenneth Walter sits on a comfy looking Lazy Boy directly across from me. He has a clipboard in his lap and a pen in his hand, but he doesn’t write anything down as he looks over some scattered writing on the page I can barely see.

             “Now, how are you doing, Bam?”

            “Fine.” My voice is monotone.

            “That’s good to hear.” He doesn’t sound like he believes me and when he looks up, his eyes look anything but trusting. “Your parents have expressed some concerns about you and how you’re dealing with things. Would you like to talk about what’s happened in the last few months?”

            “No.” I turn towards the window and stare out at the sky. It’s blue and bright, but towards my side – the right, a storm is blowing in. I felt the light wind as I got out of my mother’s car only a short time ago.

            “The last few days then?” Dr. Walter asks.

            I shake my head.

            The man doesn’t sound discouraged, just disappointed. He writes some things down while I look out the window. For a while his pen scrawls, no words leaving his lips. At first this is peaceful, kind of relaxing rather than talking about my life. But as several minutes go by and the ticking of a clock on the wall with no numbers starts to make up the only sound, I grow restless. I want to know what he’s writing on his clipboard. More importantly, I want him to stop writing about me altogether.

            “I don’t want to be here,” I announce.

            Dr. Walter looks up, his eyes suddenly interested. His pen pauses on the clipboard before he sits up a bit. Then, when I show no sign of saying anything until he does, he sets his pen down and leans back in his chair. Clasping his hands together, he lets the small sound they make together break the silence.

            “And why is that, Bam?”

            “Because I think I’m fine.”

            He raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

            “My parents made me came without asking whether I wanted to come or not,” I state.

            “Your parents do not believe you’re fine, Ms. Reed.”

            “They also do not believe that I should be upset about the sudden death of somebody I loved a few months after their passing.” I’m tempted to rise to my feet but I don’t budge just yet. “They think I should be happy and skipping and smelling flowers as if I never really met Cade at all.”

            Dr. Walter reaches for his pen. When I see his arm move I narrow my eyes and he sets his hand down on the clipboard, inches away from his pen.

            “I’d like this appointment to be over, now.”

            His hand twitches. “Your parents are paying for this. They want you to be happy, Alabama. Why don’t we talk about why you aren’t and then I’ll talk to your parents about discontinuing your sessions if you still aren’t satisfied.”

            “I’m not happy because I’m here.”

            “You are not happy because you do not like your life,” he states.

            My mouth hangs open, unsure of what kind of words should come out of it. I’m stunned at what he just said to me; shocked at what my parents must be feeding him. Narrowing my eyes, I rise to my feet and do up the buttons of my red, spring jacket.

            “This appointment is over,” I say as I reach the third button from the top. “You can tell my parents I left. You can tell them I’m unhappy, that I refuse this treatment. I don’t care. Do whatever you want, I’m done.”

            I walk towards the door as Dr. Walter stays in his chair. As I reach the door handle, I pause at the sound of his voice despite how badly I want to get away from it.

            “I can call the police to escort you to the hospital if I believe you are in danger, Ms. Reed.”

            My hand lingers on the door handle. “In danger of what?”

            “In danger of yourself.”

            After being in the hospital for appointments because of Cade and recently for my accident with the truck, the last place I want to end up is in the hospital for false acclaims of my safety. Even if I’m no danger whatsoever to myself, my parents have told Dr. Walter things that I do not know. And if he sent me to the hospital, I’d be placed on seventy-two hour surveillance until they realized I am perfectly safe.

            I sit back down on the couch and tell the therapist everything he wants to hear.

            “When is your next appointment?”

            I lean my head on my arm against the window and watch the rain pelt the glass. Drops race each other towards the end of the car, only getting a short distance before they fly off completely.

            “Next Thursday.”

            Mom smiles. “That’s great! Did you enjoy it?”

            I don’t say anything.

            “We have to pick up your dad at the docks. Since the unexpected downpour came, they can’t go out today with the weather. Something to do with ruining the equipment.”

            “Cool.” I’m pissed and uninterested.

            “I want to get home quick to write that book of mine. Ever since we came here I’ve had so much inspiration. I really like it here, Bam. Don’t you?”

            I still don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk to her after the hell appointment I just went through. It was as if every Band-Aid that                              was put on since Cade’s passing was ripped off one after the other before each wound started bleeding again. I feel worse now than I did when I first came to Mermaid. Now I want to leave just to get away from Dr. Walter.

            When we get home I don’t want to go upstairs to my mess of the quilt I made so I lie on my back on the antique couch in the living room, staring up at the ceiling. My left arm hangs up off the couch and my other over my head onto the arm rest. I feel like some old kind of painting where you have to sit for hours for the artist to really capture you.

            “Mom’s busy,” Dad says. I can’t see him but his voice sounds like it’s from somewhere behind me. “Want to do something?”

            I let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Not really.”

            I think my father moves into my view on the back of the couch just so I can see his frown turn into a small smile. “Come on, Bam. Let’s do something! Anywhere you want to go, want to buy, want to see?”

            “It’s raining,” I state.

            Dad grins. “Not anymore.”

            Slowly, I lean up onto my elbows and look straight out the back sliding door. Sure enough it’s sunny and the only droplets falling are from the eaves trough on the roof. Letting out another large breath, I flop back onto the couch in the exact same position, though possibly slightly more dramatic.

            “Fantastic.”

            Despite the recent event where my father ditched me, we end up going for a walk towards downtown. I bring my camera even though I’m not in the mood for taking pictures and for the first little while we walk in silence. Knowing better, Dad never asks about my appointment. Mom told him it went well according to Dr. Walter when Dad opened the door to the car, but other than that, he hasn’t brought it up. To that, I’m thankful.

            “I’m thinking we should throw an end of the summer party,” Dad says as the sun shines brightly through the clouds. He tilts his head up to look and then takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes.

            “End of the summer?” I’m confused. “We’re close to the end already?”

            Dad nods and looks down at me. He’s smiling, but he looks wistful; sad. “It flies by every year. We only have a few weeks left.”

            I feel a lump rise in my throat. I hadn’t thought seriously about going back home much, and as much as I want to get away from my therapist, going home seems tougher than I thought it would be when I came here. All my memories are there, all my things untouched, sitting strewn around my room exactly how I had left them. The cemetery is there – Cade is still there, six feet under.

            “What’s going to happen to the cottage when we leave?” I wonder.

            Dad shrugs. “We rented it from an elderly couple who can’t come up anymore. They hire people to take care of it and rent it out to people who want a vacation. They said they want to try selling it again. Before it never sold.”

            I frown. “I don’t like the idea of somebody else living there.”

            Dad’s lips turn down like mine. “Strangely, neither do I. Maybe we’ll have to think of getting a cottage sometime in the future.”

            I think about leaving Hadley and trying to stay in contact with her. Everyone kids themselves into trying to keep friends when they go back home, but they always lose touch. I don’t want to lose touch with Hadley, but it seems inevitable. I can’t even begin to think about Evan. After yesterday, I don’t even want to address the idea.

            “So about this party…” I want to change the subject to something more casual, something on a happier note. “Who are you inviting?”

            “Max, Emile, some other people I work with. I’ve made a few friends here around Mermaid so they’ll be there too. Your mother has some also. You can invite Hadley and Evan along with their families if you want. I’m sure we’ll get along great.” Dad grins and I strain a smile when he meets my gaze.

            I do not want to talk about Evan.

            As we reach the downtown strip of pastel coloured stores and attraction, Dad’s cell phone rings. After I started to receive condolence and sympathy messages and phone calls from people I barely knew, I got rid of my phone for good. The sound of my Dad’s doorbell chime makes me cringe.

            “Hello?”

            We walk a few steps as I watch my father the whole time. I’ve always wanted to know who anyone was on the phone with, not that it mattered. I liked guessing by the tone of my parent’s voices to see who they were talking to.

            Dad stops abruptly.

            “Y-yes, I can. May I ask what this is about?”

            My father pales a little but still has colour on his face. He takes a deep breath, looks down at my briefly, and then stares straight ahead. Something is up.

            “I’ll be right there, I guess.”

            He hangs up and shoves his cell phone in his pocket. He stays silent for a few moments, still not looking at me while he thinks. Wind blows hair onto my mouth and I tug it away. When I lower my hand, Dad finally speaks.

            “Can you head back home by yourself? I have to go help out for work.”

            He doesn’t look at me so I know he’s lying. I stare up at him with scrutinizing eyes. I want him to know I know he’s not telling the truth.

            “Don’t you need to get your car?” I ask.

            Dad looks down at me, puts his hands in his pockets. “No, I’m meeting them in town. Why don’t you go home, Bam. I’m sure your mother wants to get dinner started soon.”

             He tells me to leave instead of asking. This small change makes me worried. My dad’s always been very honest and nice, never ordering anyone around or abusing his power as a parent or a boss. But now he’s acting completely out of character. What’s going on?

            “Okay.”

            Dad kisses my hair before rushing off in the opposite direction, towards the stores. I stand still for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. I don’t want to go home wondering, and worry my mother with her husband acting strange. But I don’t want to walk around, either. I might see Evan.

            I end up heading towards Hadley’s house.

            I walk along all of the shops towards the white cottage at the end of the road. As I pass I can’t help but look inside each of the windows, some of which I can only see m reflection. When I reach the fish and chip bar my dad went inside, my plan is to turn away and give him his privacy. He must have a good, yet strange reason for being weird. But when I reach the glass I have to turn to the left to see.

            And what I see, makes me stop completely.

            I press my hands against the window to look inside, away from the glare of the sun. My father sits on one of the high stools at the table with another woman. If I didn’t recognize her from work or anywhere else, I would be worried, upset, horrified. But it’s not just any other woman.

            It’s Cade’s mother.