Chapter Two:
CLIENTELE
Ben Harmon was pulling a fast one. Truly, he was. As far as his wife and daughter were concerned, he was the biggest hero they'd ever known. Who else would buy them their dream house, complete with one of the largest yards you could find in Los Angeles, and do it with a smile, no less?
But the big twist was that he bought the house with only his own gains in mind. Sure, Vivien was enthusiastic about all the space and decorating opportunities, and Violet...well, she was hard to read even for someone in his profession, but she at least liked her new bedroom. That was a big improvement from the months of her not speaking to him or eating at the dinner table with the family. He couldn't remember the last time the three of them sat down and actually had a civilized meal. But there they were the first night in the new house, sitting in the dining room, surrounded by boxes with sharpie all over, having conversation as if nothing had ever happened.
What were all the selfish reasons he'd bought the house?
The first one was simple. A house of this size carried a lot of equity. He'd paid 95k for the place, but he could easily double, maybe even triple that amount when the place sold in two years or so. He'd completely resigned to the fact that people weren't exactly lining up for psych appointments lately. Within the past six months he'd seen three regular patients, and that barely paid all his bills. He found himself doing odd jobs here and there just to even out their savings account and put the type of food that Vivien required on the table, or TV trays. However they ate their meals that evening.
Secondly, he could save money by having his practice in the house itself. Renting an office in the city would cost an arm and a leg, and perhaps a few other choice appendages. Vivien thought the move was his way of spending more time with the family, and Ben was glad it was turning out that way. But he was really working from home to put a little more money in his pocket. He wasn't sure what he was going to spend the extra on, but when the time came, it was going to be a great purchase. Something he could really enjoy.
All these things floated through his mind as he put the finishing touches on his new office. The room was on the first floor near the back of the house. Vivien helped him choose the space, and he was pleased with it. His desk fit perfectly in the corner, and there was plenty of room for the two couches. One was his. In between was a nice coffee table where he could rest his notes and digital recorder, and on the other side was a nice leather lounge for his patients. Unfortunately he hadn't broken even on the purchase of the furniture yet. Those were part of his pre-move purchase when he was still renting that horrible little room above the pizza place.
Now the easy part was over. Everything was in place. The hard part would be finding the clientele. Hopefully with all the acting failures in this city he would be living like a king soon enough. He just had to get his name out there first.
Suddenly he felt a cold breeze against the back of his neck. It sent an involuntary shiver up his spine and he turned around. Was the window open or something? He walked over to the large windows peeking from behind long drapes and was surprised to see that they were all shut and locked tight.
Odd. Where did the breeze come from? He didn't have a fan in here either...
The doorbell rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Guess that's what happens when you creep yourself out like that, he thought.
The doorbell rang again.
He walked to the office doorway.
"Viv?" he called down the hallway. There was no answer. He tried again. "Viv, there's someone at the door!"
Silence.
"Vivien!"
There was absolutely no noise from anywhere. He thought Vivien was tinkering around the house, but maybe she went outside or something. Violet was at school, of course, but Vivien didn't have a job. Her job was to fix up the house, and apparently she was taking a break from the interior.
He hurried down the hallway, wiping the sweat from his brow, and opened the heavy front door.
Standing on his front porch was an older woman with short, curly hair wearing an outfit that would be at home in the '70s. All purple, a modest skirt with accompanying jacket and blouse. She gave off a vibe of the "old crowd" and her makeup was desperately trying to hide the crow's feet and smile lines scattered across her face. She smiled at him.
"Dr. Ben Harmon?"
He nodded.
"Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"
"I certainly hope so," the woman brought a hand up to her chest in a Southern expression and took a step towards him. "Forgive me, I'm Constance Langdon. I heard about you from your ad online. I live just across the hedge." She pointed to the home next door.
"Is that right? Well, it's very nice to meet you, but I don't really have time for small talk. I'm actually preparing my new office -"
"Oh, that's why I've come," Constance said, reaching out and touching his arm lightly. "I've heard that you're the best around, and I will be quite honest with you, I am at the end of my rope. Truly."
Ben blinked. "You're in need of my services?"
"Indeed. Well, not me personally. I'm here for my son, Tate."
"Tate," Ben nodded, trying to keep a mental note. It would be good to impress, especially if this was going to be his first customer. They liked it when you remembered the small details. He didn't have a notebook on him, so that would be a little trickier than normal. "What's troubling him, if I can be up front? Normally I wait for paperwork to be filled out before I ask, but I'm just curious." That was another hook. People liked it when you acted interested. If he played his cards right he'd have this woman signing a contract and word of mouth spreading like wildfire.
"Sweet boy, my Tate. He's my little angel, really. He's just...heading in the wrong direction, I think, is the way I'd put it."
Constance looked very pained, as if she were thinking of some memory where her son lashed out. Ben saw this look often. She was the unappreciated mother. Either that or an overly meddling mother. If he had to guess he would say she was the latter.
"I guess you would say he's full of angst. Perhaps even some disdain for other children his age." Her fingers were fanned out across the nape of her neck and he spotted a large ring that glinted in the sunlight. "Do you mind if I come inside?"
"Oh, yes," Ben stepped aside. "Of course. Make yourself at home."
"That won't be hard," Constance walked into the house and started immediately in the direction of the dining room. "I lived here many years ago. This was my passion project. Now I guess it's yours."
Ben got two glasses and filled them with iced tea from the fridge. Constance took a seat at the table and he sat opposite her.
"I really don't know what you need me to tell you, without paperwork made up," Constance said. "To be quite honest, this is the first time I've ever approached someone of your...profession. Up until now I considered my efforts at parenting to be sufficient. My children had a beautiful home and anything they wanted. What more could they ask for? My love? They certainly never had to ask for that. I am very loving."
She paused, brought the glass up to her mouth, but didn't take a sip. Just held it there, looking off somewhere.
"Is Tate your only child?" Ben asked.
"Oh no. I have another at home, Addy. She's a little challenged, but she's powering through it, thank God. I teach her from home. It saves her from the torment of other children her age. Tate is the middle child, and I have an older boy besides. So, he can't say he hasn't had examples to follow. There was certainly plenty of time for him to learn from his brother. He just chose not to, I suppose. Are most teenagers like that?"
"What, you mean rebels?"
Constance nodded.
"Well, they all go through that streak," he said. "If they don't, then you're an incredibly lucky parent."
"That's what I thought." She leaned over the table slightly and made direct eye contact with him. "Would you agree to take his case?"
Ben was caught off guard. This woman had to be the most up-front person he'd met in his profession. Normally people would keep things to themselves, which totally defeated the purpose of having a shrink. But hey, he wasn't going to complain. As long as she could pay, he'd do what he could. Give it his best shot.
"I'd have to meet your son first," he answered. "Since he'd be the actual patient. It's all up to him. If he's comfortable with me, then I'll certainly give it a shot. I don't promise anything, but I've rarely seen someone get worse after I treat them."
"That is such a comfort, Dr. Harmon. You don't know how much I appreciate it."
"There is the subject of payment," he started to say, but Constance cut him off with a wave of her hand.
"Don't worry about that. I have plenty of money. Whatever it costs, nothing's too much for my angel. He needs to get better again, Dr. Harmon. He hasn't been the same, if you get my meaning. It's like he's a totally different person. You have to change him back. You must, do you understand?"
Ben swallowed and got to his feet along with Constance.
"Like I said, I'll do my best."
"Good. Thank-you, Dr. Harmon."
He led her out to the front porch. She turned to him.
"I'll send Tate over tomorrow at some point during the day. You'll be available, I assume?"
He nodded.
"Send him over whenever. I'll be prepared."
"Excellent. I can't thank you enough, Dr. Harmon. It's been a long road with this one. You think you know what to do as the parent, but then you face the cold reality that you're just as scared of the world as your kids are. It will be nice to know that I'm not facing this daunting task on my own anymore."
Ben wasn't sure what to say, so he simply nodded.
"Anyway, good afternoon, Dr. Harmon."
And with that, Constance hurried down the stone steps and was off beyond the hedges.
Ben just stood there with the door open for a minute or two, trying to process what had just happened. The entire exchange took no more than ten minutes, yet in that amount of time Constance had managed to invite herself in, have tea, and seal a deal (so to speak). The woman was talented, Ben would give her that. It wouldn't hurt to give her son a shot. Didn't every teenager deserve that kind of chance? He liked to think so.
With a half-smile on his face he closed the door behind him and went back to organizing his office.
