Goodbye Reckless

"So Amina how are we feeling today?"

"Same as every Saturday Marsha."

It had become a regular routine between my therapist and me to just waste time away from having to actually do what was assigned to do.

My father had been insisting that I attend therapy sessions with Marsha Brown since I was 14. She possibly knew more about me than even my father did, who had always insisted that they many wives and divorces were stressful for me and had lead to sever physiological scares.

This was as far removed from the truth as it was possible.

I had over the years of my fathers various liaisons adopted an air of indifference. As long as the new flame wasn't a gold-digger or a total cow, towards any of my siblings or me, then I saw no problem in my father marrying her.

However he refused to see my side in things, something that has become an annoying idiosyncrasy rooted firmly inside him.

So an hour later Marsha and I had finished, we had discussed the weather, my vocation, her new shoes and where the best place in town for Italian Deli was, so at present I was making my way to meet Andy.

I had deposited the twins back at home, my father's spacious penthouse, with the nanny and now a sense of freedom enveloped me from head to foot and a sense of lightness took over.

I made it to the Ice Cream factory where Andy was already standing outside, waiting patiently spinning his sidekick between his fingers.

He looked up and then saw me, a smile spreading out across his face.

"Crazy shoes again." He said with a grin and pointed at my newly acquired yellow soft suede four inch Marc Jacobs heels.

To my utter shame I was still in my work clothes from the catwalk; black leggings and a black t-shirt dress, the only spots of colour were the shoes and a long rainbow coloured beaded necklace that I had thrown on just before I left home. However Andy did not seem to pick up on this and instead held the door of the Ice Cream factory open for me and waited for me to walk inside.

We sat down at a table close to the window and Andy ordered the ice cream for us, promising that this was the best kind of therapy there was.

Ten minutes later the biggest chocolate sundae I had ever seen was placed in front of me.

"See?" Andy said with a grin and began devouring his with zest, and in between mouthfuls he grew curious about my therapy sessions.

"So why therapy then? If you don't mind me asking," Andy said after having completely destroyed his sundae in record timing. How he stayed so skinny was a mystery to me.

"My dad's been married five times and divorced four times, it's an open secret," I added once I saw the expression on Andy's face.

I had given up long ago pretending that my father never had relationship problems, I found it far easier to be honest with people on that topic. It meant that there was less explaining to do later on.

"So he thinks that due to all these divorces I have physiological scares hence why the therapist," I said with a grin.

"That sure is something. Five times? You dad must be quite the looker." Andy said with a grin.

"Or very rich," I replied with a smile.

"That too."

The afternoon wore on gently and pleasantly. It was over far too soon.

I rarely had contact with honest and open people. The people I worked with always had the presumptuous 'mightier than thou' air about then and this inborn arrogance that made them strut and turn their noses up at anything less than up to their standards.

Andy was far from this, he was open and blunt but in a funny and endearing way. He was like a breeze of fresh air in my stale life.