“Controlling what you could.”

Linda nodded. “And I might not have gone away except . . . she called me beautiful.”

One eyebrow went up. “That word has always troubled you.”

“But this time it didn’t irritate me and so I went away.”

When Linda didn’t go on, Dr. Kirkland prompted softly with, “What was different this time?”

“It was as if this woman pressed a button. She’d hardly said the word and I was on the ceiling, watching.”

“So the word triggered the dissociation, you think? Not the situation, but the word?”

“Yeah. Marissa never said it. She said I was strong.” A tiny headache started behind Linda’s eyes but she had expected it. Her first two months of therapy had left her with blinding migraines that she felt were a by-product of trying so hard to “see” into her brain, so to speak. “After—in the airport—I felt remote for a long time. I didn’t like it. I wanted to feel the way I had with Marissa.”

“That’s important, you know that, right?”

Linda nodded.

“Important because you know you’re capable of feeling more than distant and remote. When we first met you told me being disconnected was the way you were made.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, I remember.” Dr. Kirkland smiled. “So what did you do about wanting to feel different?”

“I want to have a chance with Marissa. So I came home.”

“You didn’t go to her? Why do you think you chose to come here instead?”

“Because.” Linda rolled her eyes. “Because I knew I needed to talk to you some more. And I could sponge off my mother while I fixed the rest of it.”

“So you’ve seen your mother?”

“I went there from the airport. Burst into her office in front of some clients. I made a big stir because someone called security.” She chewed on her thumbnail as she recalled the flicker of emotions on her mother’s face. “I don’t even think she was angry.”

“Did you want her to be?”

“No. I don’t need anything from her . . .” Linda’s voice trailed away. “I mean . . . yes. I guess I did want her to be angry. I wanted to push her buttons for once. She pushes mine every day. But I thought I was past wanting emotion out of her. I didn’t get what I wanted, I guess.”

Dr. Kirkland made another note on the left before asking, “So how does it feel to be living in your old house?”

“Weird. Familiar, but weird. The rooms are all in the same place of course but she changed all the decorations—probably more than once. Marshall, her long-time escort, is still around, I guess. I still think he’s gay. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you still married?”

Neither eyebrow moved but Linda was certain Dr. Kirkland was dying to arch one of them. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think? We talked about boundaries.”