The Good Listener

  The Good Listener

  B.M. Hardin

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright©2016

  Savvily Published LLC

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  This book is a work of fiction. All persons, events, places and locales are a product of the others imagination. The story is fictitious and any thoughts of similarities are merely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all of my loyal and dedicated readers! A special thanks to Mary Green and her input. Special thanks to my book group and readers “It’s A Book Thang”. Thank you all for your support and for following me on my writing journey. It is truly a blessing to have supporters like you in my corner. Thank you!

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I want to thank my Heavenly Father for my talents and my gifts and each and every story that he has placed in me. It is an honor and a privilege to be living my dream and walking in my purpose and for that I am forever thankful.

  Special acknowledgements: Pure Harmony Literary Services and Toi Harris for editing services.

  Also to all of my family, friends, critiques, supporters, readers and everyone else, thank you for believing in me and allowing me to share my gifts with you.

  Your support truly means the world to me!

  B.M. Hardin

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  Email:bmhardinbooks@gmail.com

  TEXT BMBOOKS to 22828 for Release updates!

  The Good Listener

  Chapter ONE

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because I’m going to kill someone.”

  “And what do you want me to do?”

  “Stop me.”

  A Few Weeks Earlier…

  “There’s never been a patient that I couldn’t fix. Every patient that has ever stepped foot in my office, after my sessions they left out renewed and refreshed. I fixed them. I healed them. I made them better.”

  “So you’ve never had a patient return for more help? You’ve never lost a patient?”

  “Of course not. Not one. Not ever.”

  “So, you’re saying that your sessions have always worked? After they see you, they are what some people would call “cured”?

  “Exactly.”

  “Impressive. So, we all want to know, what’s your secret?”

  I laughed.

  “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore now would it?” I smiled at the news reporter, and they signaled for her to wrap it up.

  “Well, there you have it. If you need someone to talk to, or in her words, someone to “manipulate your mind”, Dr. Hannah Lewis is the person that you need to go and see. Thank you so much for joining us today.”

  I smiled as they headed for commercial and I headed off of the platform. They took the microphone off of my chest and then led me back to retrieve my personal belongings. I scanned the atmosphere to see if my husband had shown up, but he was nowhere in sight.

  He promised to be there this time, but he’d promised the last time too.

  Finally, able to make it out of the building, I headed for my car, but someone called my name.

  “Hannah! Hannah!”

  I looked around to see where the shout had come from, but I only caught a glimpse of the door of the news station closing. Maybe they changed their mind.

  Following my routine, and a tradition started by my best friend, I headed to get my celebratory dessert; a banana split with extra cherries on the top.

  I phoned my husband, and when he didn’t answer, I headed to enjoy my reward alone. Afterwards, and avoiding the urge to go back to the office to finish up a few things, I headed to the place that I called home.

  “What happened to you coming to my interview today?”

  Joel didn’t respond.

  “I was looking for you. You said that you were going to be there. That was the third TV appearance that you have missed.”

  “I got busy. You didn’t need me there anyway. You did just fine. I watched it.”

  “I did need you there Joel.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. Any regular husband would have been there especially since you don’t…”

  “Since I don’t?” Joel interrupted my sentence.

  “Never mind.”

  “No. You were going to say since I don’t have a job, I should have been there.”

  “You said it. Not me. It just would have been nice to have you there, smiling and waiting for me to get finished. I would love to be able to share my accomplishments and my proud moments with my spouse. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I was busy doing job applications Hannah, sorry. But finding a job is more important than coming to watch you be interviewed on TV don’t you think?”

  “Maybe to you. But not to me.”

  “That’s what you say, but we both know that you don’t mean that. We both know that I need a job.”

  “But I do mean it. The problem is that you don’t believe it. Why is that Joel? Why don’t you believe that I care more about you than I care about you having a job? What makes you think that? How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “I’m not one of your patients Hannah,” Joel growled.

  “I never said that you were. But you are my husband, and I should be able to have a simple conversation with you without it turning into something that it’s not. And all I’m saying is that my husband should have been there today.”

  And with that comment, Joel walked away signaling that the conversation was over.

  But that was fine by me since I’d gotten the last word.

  For the rest of the evening, neither of us bothered to speak to each other again, but that had become the normal lately.

  It wasn’t until it was time for bed that we even bothered to share the same space again.

  After laying for a while in complete silence, I decided to make amends.

  It was just ridiculous to go to bed mad at each other for the third time this week.

  There at least had to be one adult in the room.

  “Joel, are you asleep?” I whispered and moved closer to him.

  I inhaled the scent of his skin.

  It was shameful that this was the closest that I’d been to him in what seemed like such a long time.

  He didn’t respond, so I started to rub his back.

  “Joel? Wake up.”

  Finally, he groaned, swatted at my hand and moved away from me.

  Like an unexpected earthquake, misery and heartache seemed to make my heart tremble with despair as I swallowed the lump that was stuck in my throat.

  How did we get here?

  What happened to my happy marriage?

  I couldn’t even remember the last time that he’d bothered to touch me.

  And to be honest, because of his behavior lately, I didn’t exactly want him to.

  But it would have been nice if he at least pretended to still be interested.

  As his snores filled the air, I rolled out of bed, snatched the covers off of him and threw the cover to the floor.

  He still didn’t wake up, so I grabbed an extra blanket and made my way to my favorite couch in the living room.

  If I were lucky, maybe he wouldn’t wake up in the morning either.

  Okay, so I didn’t really mean that.

  But our marriage seemed to have died a long time ago, so he might as well get buried with it.

  My degrees taught me what to say to my patients, but I hadn't considered what it would be like if I had to use the
m on myself.

  If one of my patients were going through this same situation at home, I would have told them that it was time to make other arrangements.

  Not necessarily a divorce; but maybe I would suggest marital counseling, and if that didn’t work, I would then suggest space. Sometimes a person has to be forced to live with your absence to be able to appreciate your presence.

  Obviously, I should be taking my own advice.

  Joel would never agree to go to marital counseling with me; he already hated when I tried to get inside of his mind so surely he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do the same.

  But maybe a little space was just what we needed.

  After being consumed with my thoughts for a while, just as I closed my eyes, the alarm wailed, and I jumped to my feet.

  I figured that the neighborhood cat had probably set off the motion detectors around the house again. It had been Joel’s idea to get such an expensive, unnecessary security package and I was sick of it already. Not to mention that he hadn't even completely set it up entirely; good, that would make it easier for him to take all down.

  In a hurry, I entered our code to silence the loud noise, and looked out of the window, just to be sure.

  There was nothing to see, so I headed back towards the couch.

  I looked up and saw Joel standing in the hallway, but as I pulled the blanket up towards my neck, he didn’t say a word.

  He didn’t ask any questions nor did he suggest that I come back to join him in our bed.

  He simply turned his back to me.

  And soon I drifted off into a miserable, deep sleep.

  ~***~

  “Can you go to the grocery store later? The refrigerator is empty. I was going to go once I was off, but I need to work over for a while. I’m sure that I won’t feel like going by the time that I leave. Oh, and we have two loads of laundry that need to be done. Could you make sure that they are washed and dried? I’ll fold them tonight. Also…”

  Joel hung up in my face before I could finish my sentence.

  What did I say?

  Throwing my cell phone in my purse, I didn’t bother to call him back.

  It would only lead to an argument, and I was not going to let him ruin my day.

  The knock on the door signaled that my next patient was ready.

  And for the next few hours, my husband and our personal problems were the last things on my mind.

  Literally.

  Later on that evening, I glanced at the clock and decided that I’d better head home.

  I’d only planned to stay for an hour or so after closing, but time had gotten away from me.

  Though my husband hadn't called to rush me home, I knew that he was going to have plenty to say once I got there, so I grabbed my things and rushed out of the office in a hurry.

  After locking the door, I stood for just a second to enjoy the cool late breeze.

  It was my favorite time of year, and I wished that I was somewhere, relaxing on a beach with a margarita, doing absolutely nothing.

  But I was up to my neck with patients, and taking some time off with my current workload, just wasn’t realistic.

  As I walked towards my car, something came over me.

  A feeling; and it wasn’t a good one.

  I glanced behind me, but no one was there.

  I got the feeling that someone was watching me.

  I couldn’t explain it, but I knew that I was right.

  I looked around the parking lot, but it was deserted.

  A few cars were scattered here and there, but no one appeared to be in them.

  It was almost eight o’clock in the evening, and all of my other colleagues had gone home for the day hours ago, and most of the other businesses were already closed too.

  But I wasn’t alone.

  I was sure of it.

  Finally, inside of my car, I started the engine and cracked the window just a tab so that I could light a smoke to calm my nerves.

  Just as I reached for my lighter, my phone began to ring.

  Startled, and surprised to see that it was Joel, I answered it.

  “When will you be home?”

  I struggled to catch my breath.

  “I’m on my way.”

  He hung up again without even saying goodbye.

  Throwing down my phone and hurriedly placed the cigarette in between my lips.

  Joel was the main reason that I’d started smoking, I thought as I took the first puff.

  It wasn’t my job.

  It wasn’t my patients or the fact that some days I was overworked and overwhelmed.

  It was him.

  My unsupportive, unemployed, panties always in a bunch, husband.

  The nicotine instantly made me feel relaxed, and just as I pulled off and turned my wheel to head towards the parking lot’s exit, out of nowhere a tall figure, dressed in black, appeared from behind the office building and stole my focus.

  I couldn’t exactly see a face or anything, not that I was trying to until I was sure that I was safe.

  I sped out of the parking lot, and headed towards the stop light and only then did I glance back in my rearview mirror.

  The figure just stood there.

  Being that it was pretty dark, I could only see the frame of their body, but they seemed to have their head down as though they were looking at the ground.

  I’d known that I wasn’t alone.

  I didn’t know who it was, but I knew that someone had been there.

  My gut was always right.

  I watched them until I turned on the next street and they were out of sight.

  I was going to need another cigarette.

  “I cooked dinner for you, but it’s cold since you didn’t come home,” Joel mumbled as soon as I walked through the door.

  “I’m sorry. I told you that I was going to be working late. I wish you would have told me. I wouldn’t have stayed so late.”

  “Well, that would have defeated the purpose of it being a surprise don’t you think?”

  I forced my face not to display my frustration.

  Did he have to be an asshole all the time?

  I sat down at the table as he warmed up a plate for me.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “I got a job today,” he said bluntly.

  Oh, thank goodness!

  I didn’t even try to hide my enthusiasm.

  “That’s such good news! Where?”

  “It’s an entry level position at an advertising firm. It doesn’t pay as much as I was making, not even half, but it’s a start. It’s something.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “They want me to start immediately. Tomorrow.”

  He didn’t sound all that excited about it, but I was ecstatic.

  I wanted my husband back, the man that I’d married almost ten years ago; the man that he was before he lost his job.

  Before he became unemployed we were happy; at least majority of the time.

  For the most part, life was great.

  But since the year plus of being unemployed, things between us had been horrible.

  At first, he was hopeful, but when a few months of looking for work, turned into over a year, his whole attitude changed; especially, towards me.

  Somehow I had turned into the enemy.

  “You will do great. Everything will fall into place.”

  “Maybe,” Joel commented, sitting the plate of food in front of me.

  Instead of continuing the conversation, we talked awkwardly about miscellaneous things as though we were on a bad first date.

  I never understood why Joel was so angry.

  It wasn’t as though we were struggling.

  Financially we were just fine.

  I made more than enough money to carry the load of bills and our expenses all on my own.

  And I had been doing just that without one single complaint and with no questions asked.

  But Joel made me feel as though I was doing so
mething wrong.

  Maybe he just wanted to be able to look in the mirror and see a big, strong, husband and provider.

  But this wasn’t the stone ages.

  Women could do it too, and quite frankly, I had been doing one heck of a great job.

  Get over it already!

  But finally, there was some light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel.

  He finally found a job, and though he wasn’t saying much, I could tell that the good news had already started to make him feel a little better about himself.

  His body language told me that he was letting go of stress, bit by bit, moment by moment, and I couldn’t do a thing but smile.

  I also noticed that he’d gone to the store, and not only had he washed and dried the laundry, but he’d folded all of the clothing too.

  Things were looking better already.

  The next morning, we both got dressed for work, together, just like we used to.

  I cooked a quick breakfast, and heading out before him, I took a chance and went in for a kiss.

  And for the first time, in months, my husband actually kissed me back.

  Walking out of the front door, I greeted the morning sun with a smile.

  Immediately I became relaxed.

  I felt as though a hundred-pound weight had instantly been lifted off of my shoulders.

  Finally, I was able to breathe. I smiled as I drove towards the office, knowing that the best part of my day was about to begin.

  I was a therapist, a psychologist to be exact. And to me, there was nothing better, more fulfilling than helping people in their times of despair.

  I’d somewhat followed in my mother’s footsteps, and it was the best decision that I’d ever made. I remember her coming in from work, smiling and always full of so much joy.

  She worked long hours, but I never heard her complain, not even once.

  I admired her for her hard work and dedication to helping others, and it wasn’t long before I figured out that helping other people gave me the same satisfaction.

  But unlike my mother, I didn’t pursue marriage counseling or couple’s therapy. I preferred the one on one interaction. I would help a husband or a wife individually, but I craved a special connection with each and every one of my patients.