Dawn of Eve, MJ Howson [lightweight ebook reader TXT] 📗

“That’s a lovely piece of jewelry.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m going to record our session again if that’s okay.”

“Sure.”

Dr. Cole hit the record button and then said, “This is session number eight with Dawn Easton. Today’s date is Friday, September thirteenth, twenty nineteen.” He settled back in his chair and began flipping through his notes, adjusting his glasses as he reviewed the information from their last session. Dr. Cole looked up again at Dawn and was struck by how confident she appeared. Most of the time, she’d be slumped in the chair with her head hanging low. Now, she had what he could only describe as perfect posture, as well as a smile across her face.

“How was your week?” Dr. Cole asked.

“It’s . . . it’s been amazing. Truly.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I must confess, you seem to be the most upbeat I’ve ever seen you.”

“Thanks.” Dawn looked around the office, her gaze lingering now and then on the dust-covered cluttered shelves and furniture. She smiled and said, “I had my doubts about you. When I first started.”

“I remember. I told you trust takes time. So, what’s going on that’s got you so radiant?”

“I followed your advice.” Dawn paused and then started to laugh. “I literally followed it.”

Dr. Cole frowned and adjusted his glasses. He flipped back through last week’s session. “What . . . what recommendation was that? Picking three memories of your mother from your childhood?”

“No. The cat.”

“Cat?”

“Remember you told me to get a pet. Something to comfort me.”

“Oh.” Dr. Cole briefly closed his eyes, nodded, and smiled. “I’m surprised you did.”

“I didn’t.” Dawn leaned forward and held her hands out in front of her as she got ready to describe the setting. “Okay, so I’m walking down the High Line, and this cat comes up to me. I immediately think of you. The cat ran off, and then I walked to the Village. Another cat comes up to me. I’m thinking, this can’t be a coincidence, right? So, I follow it, and it leads me to this store.”

“Okay.” Dr. Cole appreciated the enthusiasm coming from Dawn but was completely lost as to where her story was headed.

“The cat ran inside, and I followed it.” Dawn sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “And that’s when I met Eve.”

“Eve?” Dr. Cole stroked his stubbly beard. “The cat was named Eve?”

“Not a cat. A doll.”

Dr. Cole didn’t respond. He scanned through his notes and tapped his finger against the paper in front of him. “Eve was the name you’d picked for your unborn daughter.”

“Yes. It was also my mother’s name. Sort of.”

“And this . . . this doll that you found, did you–”

“I bought her! We bonded immediately.”

“I see.” Dr. Cole smiled at Dawn’s obvious joy. “Now, Dawn, why did you name the doll the same name you planned–”

“Oh, I didn’t. You sound like Jacob. That was the doll’s name. It was fate.” Dawn waited for Dr. Cole to say something. He sat there, just watching her. After several seconds of silence, she continued. “I keep her in the nursery. She keeps me company while I’m cooking or even just relaxing reading the news. She’s . . . she’s taken away my loneliness.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. You do seem much happier.”

“I know it’s barely been a week, but this proves I’m meant to be a mother. Not just any mother. A great mother.”

“Slow down, Dawn.” Dr. Cole pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. “A doll isn’t the same as having a baby. Neither is a cat, for that matter. Although–”

“I know I’d make a good mother, Dr. Cole.”

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t.” Dr. Cole clasped his hands together and leaned forward. He could see the happiness and excitement fading from Dawn’s eyes and wanted to be delicate with the situation. “Why did you come to see me?”

“Because Jacob told me to.” Dawn folded her arms, taking on a defensive position. She turned her head and glared out the window. She sighed and said, “And to get better.”

“Dawn, your fifth miscarriage sent you into a severe depression.” Dr. Cole waited for Dawn to look at him, but she sat there tense and angry, staring at the window. “Did it not?”

“It did.” Dawn bit her upper lip and looked at the doctor. “But Eve’s become so special to me.”

“I’m not trying to diminish the impact the doll’s had on you. In fact, there are many helpful programs where an expectant mother can use a special doll to prepare for the real thing. But your focus, Dawn, is on recovery. What . . . what if there’s a sixth miscarriage? Or a seventh?”

“Don’t say that!” Dawn flung her hands to her face and began to cry.

Dr. Cole gently pushed a box of tissues to the edge of his desk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

As Dawn collected some tissues and dried her tears, Dr. Cole went back to reviewing his notes. Suddenly, a phone in his drawer began to vibrate, setting up a resonance in the wooden Trust plaque on his desk. He looked up at Dawn to see her staring at him. He frowned and said, “My apologies.” Dr. Cole opened the drawer to see a stream of notifications on his red phone. He closed the drawer and sighed.

“Let’s . . . let’s dial things back a bit, okay?” Dr. Cole asked.

Dawn looked up, her cheeks finally dry, and said, “Sure.”

“When your last session ended, I asked you to think back to some happy childhood memories,” Dr. Cole said. “Special times with your mother. Did you come up with three or four, like I asked?”

“No. I’m sorry. I got Eve the next day. She’s been my focus.”

“Okay. I understand. We can do that next time.” Dr. Cole smiled, doing his best to hide his disappointment. Dawn’s continued avoidance of her mother frustrated him, but he remained calm. “I’d like you to tell me what life was like after your dad died.”

“After?” Dawn sighed and stared at