“Oh, I’ve noticed that.” Craig offered up another grisly smile. “As for my state of mind, I would say . . . it has improved.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said.

“I’ve decided to try to move forward. To take control of my life rather than sit back and let it control me.”

“That is very good to hear.”

“I need to channel my energies, my . . . urges in a productive way,” Craig said.

Beverly’s smile faded. “Just what do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Which part?”

“Well,” she said hesitantly, “the urges part.”

“Oh, well—I hope you don’t mind my being totally honest with you. I mean, you are my counselor and all.”

“No, please, honesty is the best way to go.”

“Well,” and he leaned forward, almost conspiratorially, and whispered, “even though I no longer have the appliances, I’ve still got the owners’ manuals, if you get what I’m saying.”

Beverly swallowed. “I believe I do.”

“So when I feel . . . aroused, in my mind, and I don’t get a corresponding physical response, there’s a kind of ache. Do you know what I mean? Like, you know when they talk about a phantom limb? How if your arm gets blown off in battle, you still feel the pain.” He leaned in even closer. “I think what I have is a phantom hard-on.”

Beverly leaned back in her chair.

“I don’t really know about that,” she said. “That’s something you’d have to discuss with your physical therapist.”

Craig looked crestfallen. “Oh, I thought you were here to help me with that kind of thing, because, you know, it very much affects my self-esteem and all.”

“There are . . . limits, Craig, to what I can help you with. What I am here to do is help you adjust to this new life you have, to help you understand that despite what has happened to you, this can be a new beginning.”

He nodded as though he understood completely. “It’s like a smile is just a frown turned upside down, right?”

Beverly Sinclair’s jaw tightened. “You know, Craig, all I’ve ever sincerely wanted to do is help you. I know you’re mocking me, but my intentions have always been genuine. You may not believe it, but I do care. I care about all my clients as if they were part of my family.”

“That’s nice,” Craig said. “So, if you think of me as part of your extended family, maybe I could come by some time. I could meet your daughter.”

Beverly’s face froze.

“I think you mentioned her in passing once,” Craig said. “She’s fourteen, I think you said. And her name is Leanne? Do I have that right?”

Beverly said nothing.

“Maybe I should drop by,” he said. “When I’m out driving at night.”

Beverly found her voice. “You don’t know where I live.”