Claire stops at the reception desk at Long Meadow Rehabilitation Center.
"I'm here to see my son, Daniel."
"He's expecting you, Mrs. Meade. You can go back now."
"Thank you," Claire's lips curl into a smile.
She finds Daniel in his room playing a video game. He pauses it when she comes into the room. She takes a seat in an armchair.
"How are you doing?"
"Good."
"Really?"
His eyes meet hers, "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I got a call yesterday."
"Oh..."
"You threw a tray at one of the other residents?"
"It was a misunderstanding."
"You hit him so hard that you gave him a concussion, and now you have to eat all of you meals here in your room."
"He agreed to it."
"He agreed to it?"
"I want to eat in here. I don't like being out there with everyone else."
"Fine. How is therapy going?"
"It's going great."
"If it's going great, then why are you still in here?"
"I've got a lot of issues to work on."
"Really?"
"Yes," he replies.
"Doctor Peterson disagrees."
"You talked to my doctor?"
"Yes. He told me that you've come a far way, but some things you simply refuse to talk about."
"That's not true."
"So why would he tell me that?"
"He asks me completely irrelevant questions."
"Like what?"
"I don't know," he shrugs.
"You refuse to talk about the reason you're here."
"No I don't. We talk about my issues with alcohol all the time."
"That's not why you're here, and you know it."
"Really? I thought that you made me come here because of my alcohol problem."
"I made you come here because I want you to get better."
"I'm not sick."
"Really? So why is it that you refuse to talk about her."
"About who?"
"Wilhelmina."
He looks out the window, and doesn't reply.
"You flinch when anyone mentions her."
"Because I hate her."
"That's why you refuse to talk about your feelings toward her in therapy?"
"It's completely irrelevant to the alcohol thing."
"No, it's the reason for the alcohol."
"NO, it's not. How do you know so much about me? You're not me, please stop telling me what I'm feeling."
"I'm your mother. I know you better than you know yourself."
"Whatever."
"You're going to have to talk about it at some point."
"About what? There's nothing to talk about. I hate Wilhelmina, end of story."
"If it were that simple you'd be out by now."
"Maybe I don't want to get out."
"Yes you do," she argues.
"Mom... please just leave me alone."
"You have to deal with this at some point."
"Why?"
"Because you're going to get out of here. When you come back to Mode you're going to have to deal with Wilhelmina."
"I'm not coming back to Mode."
"What do you mean you're not coming back to Mode?"
"I'm not coming back."
"Since when?"
"Since I decided that I want to go out west."
"What for?"
"For me."
"Whatever Daniel. I'm tired of trying to talk to you, because it's less effective than talking to a rock."
Claire leaves, and Daniel goes to therapy. He sits in the leather chair, silently. He stares at the floor.
"Something you want to talk about?" Dr. Peterson asks.
"Yeah," he nods.
"What would you like to talk about?"
"Why I'm here," he answers as he stares at the floor.
"Why are you here?"
"Because I couldn't take it anymore."
"Take what?"
"Knowing that she hates me."
"Who?"
"Her," he answers.
"Who is she?"
"Wilhelmina."
"Why does that bother you so much?"
"She left."
"Why?"
"She couldn't stand to be around me anymore."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because it's true. I was stupid."
"Stupid? Why do you say that?"
"I made the mistake of falling for her, and she crushed me."
"You love her?"
He simply nods.
"Why is that so hard for you to admit?" Dr. Peterson probes.
"Because I've spent a good majority of my life hating her."
"Why?"
"I don't know. That's the problem. The things I love about her, are the things that infuriate me the most about her."
"So you feel conflicted?"
"To say the least."