Chapter 13. The admission of guilt
Sarah looked up at the front façade of the building and shivered. It was rather like a castle, sitting in the center of the much lower buildings and houses that had store fronts. Sarah waved as Karen pulled away, taking Toby back home. The town was an odd assortment of building styles. Mostly old world in fashion and then, she looked at the building she had to enter, this thing.
Gathering her courage, she pushed open the door to the lobby of the building. In the center was a long wide staircase, which rose and split into two different directions. Karen had offered to come in this time with her, but Sarah had turned down the offer. 'I have to do this alone.' She thought and giggled thinking how familiar that sounded as she ascended the first flight of stairs.
Sarah looked up at the mezzanine with its decorative rail work. The inside reminded her of a fortress even more than the front façade. She took a deep breath and went up the next flight to the third floor where the office she was to go to was. There were no other occupants in the building and it gave her a strange feeling. She turned, hearing a flapping sound, and thought she saw something dark scurry by on the other side of the mezzanine though the decorative banister. She could see light in the hall from under the door and knew that had to be Mayfaire's office. Moving down the hall she could smell the odor of fresh paint. On the door, in gold leaf was the name she didn't really want to see. J. Mayfaire, M.D., A.P.S.W. –Associate of Psychiatric Social Work. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
"Yes?" a woman in her late fifties or early sixties looked up from her desk. "May I help you?"
"I'm Sarah Williams. I have an appointment with Doctor Mayfaire at four." Sarah said quietly.
"Of course Miss Williams, please take a seat. The doctor will be a few moments." The woman motioned to the row of seats along the wall. She looked like someone's grandmother; anyone's grandmother really. Rather ordinary and plain, nothing frightening about her. "I'm Agnes. If you need anything, just ask." She returned to her typing.
Sarah took a seat, looked about the waiting room, ready to criticize and find fault. Looking about, she found she could not find fault with anything in the room. It was warm and comforting. The walls had a fresh coat of a warm coffee tone instead of sterile white. The seats were the usual fair. The lighting was subtle and the flooring was hardwood that had been polished to a gleaming shine. Even his magazines were not the usual garbage you found in most waiting rooms. There were current issues of fashion and art magazines here. She picked up the latest copy of Sotheby's and began leaving through it.
Agnes answered a buzz, and looked over at her. "The doctor is ready for you, Miss Williams." She pointed to the door behind her. "Go right in."
"Thank you." She dropped the magazine as she did it opened to a page with a gold and jeweled encrusted owl. Sarah shook her head and refused to give it any importance. Mayfaire was sitting behind the largest desk she'd ever seen. 'Now I wonder the significant of that.' She mused as she entered the office. "Doctor Mayfaire." She greeted him coldly.
"Sarah." He leaned back in the large leather executive chair. "Do sit down."
"Oh, no couch?" she quipped.
Mayfaire looked at her with hooded eyes for a moment, "Would you prefer a couch?"
'Yeah, with you on top of me,' she thought for a moment then gave herself a mental bitch slapping. "I'd prefer not to be here at all." She said to him.
"Such a pity," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Sit down, Sarah," he commanded.
Wanting to rebel, but seeing something in him that would not tolerate it, she sat; "So what now? You going to delve into my dark and sinister thoughts?" The moments the words had left her mouth she regretted it.
"Do you have dark and sinister thoughts?" He asked, jotting down a note on his yellow pad.
"Doesn't everybody?" She asked defensively.
"Some more than others," he answered guardedly.
Sarah looked about the inner private office. Her mother had once said there was much you could learn about a man from the office he kept. She doubted her mother would come up with much from this office. It was beautiful appointed to be sure, but very impersonal. There were no family pictures on the desk such as the ones that graced her father's desk at home in the den or at his offices. The art work on the walls was generic; nice, but again, nothing that would give a clue to the inner man. He sat behind the desk observing her surveillance of his domain, waiting for her to say something. She looked at him, sitting so smugly behind the desk, when her eye caught glimpse of something that startled her, a crystal orb. About seven inches in diameter sitting on an oak pedestal. Here her inspection of the office stopped, as she was riveted to the item on the desk.
Mayfaire interrupted her thoughts; "I doubt much can be ascertained by the office furnishings." He said in a voice that shattered her trance.
"I'm sorry," she blinked and pointed to the orb. "Where did you get that?"
Mayfaire looked at the orb, and a wistful smile crossed his lips. "A graduation present form my father. Waterford crystal, very fine crystal it is too." He stated coolly. "Yes, my father is lover of beautiful and unique items." Picking up the orb he twisted it in the light. "For instance, if you turn it this way and look into it…"
Sarah began to freak, her eyes widened fearfully.
"You can see the name of my alma mater and the graduation date," the doctor finished and holding the orb out to her asked in a tempting tone; "Do you want to look at it?"
"Nice office." She said at last backing away from the outstretched orb.
He nodded, then quirked a grin. "Not very revealing though, is it?" Sarah looked at him with a guilty expression on her pretty face. "Let's begin."
Sarah slouched in the chair; "Sure, what do you want to know?"
'I want to know you, little girl, the real you.' He thought while looking at her with no expression on his face. "Tell me about your life with your parents before the divorce."
"I was the adored child of two beautiful and talented people." Sarah said dramatically.
"Sarcasm does not make you look more mature." Mayfaire warned.
Sarah stood up and took off her coat, tossing it over the chair, and she paced. "It was wonderful," she said at last. "Mom was gorgeous and Daddy adored her. Hell, everybody adored her! They were the most popular couple at the country club. Everybody wanted them on their guest list. Daddy was this up and comer and Mom was the star of the local Little Theater group, The Village Players. They had it all; looks, brains, money, a great old Victorian that was being renovated," she paused before adding. "And me."
"Tell me about your home life." He said watching her move about the room. He had to admit, for a girl, she moved like a gazelle. Watching her was a most pleasant distraction.
"What can I say?" She shrugged sticking hands into the pockets of her blazer. "My room was magical. I had books and toys and costumes, everything a little girl could ask for."
"Did your mother spend much time with you?" He asked.
"I guess so." Sarah didn't sound too sure.
"What kinds of things did you do with your mother?"
Sarah turned her back on him, not wanting him to see the confusion in the green eyes. "Mother/daughter stuff…" she offered.
"Such as?"
"The usual," she said defensively again. "Shopping, teas… the mother/daughter kind the schools have." Sarah's hand went to her hair, "She used to brush my hair… when she wasn't doing a play."
"How often was she in rehearsal?"
The teen whispered before she could stop herself. "Too often." She quickly turned and smiled. "She was a very popular actress even before she went to New York."
"How old were you when she left?" He asked again, knowing but wanting to hear her speak of it.
"Ten." Her voice went flat, emotionless and listless. "I was ten." She walked to the window. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Alright, Sarah," he said softly. He would have liked to press on, but found her unwilling. "Tell me about your father."
"Daddy? He's… Daddy..." She leaned on the window sill. "He's smart, except he can't see what's in front of him. I mean, I knew Karen had a thing for him long before he seemed to pick up on it. He hired her just before… Mom left. Karen looked at him as if she could hang on every word coming out of his mouth." Sarah rolled her eyes. "He must have been so lonely when Mom left, or he would never have give Karen a second glance." She scoffed rudely. "They were magical together." Her voice changed when she spoke of her parents as a unit. "So beautiful and so loving; he could not keep his hands off her." Sarah giggled. "More than once I found their door locked to me, and I could hear them…such passion." She sighed.
Mayfaire wrote a note, "And what about with Karen?"
Sarah shrugged, "I don't see it." Her voice was rather odd. "How could he feel anything for her? She's like a white goat compared to my mother." Her mind went to the first time Karen had come to the house to stay after the quickie wedding. How she'd changed the bedroom and how Sarah had found her father's door barred to her. She remembered Karen's look of triumph when she announced she was with child. Then the look on her face when they brought Toby home from the hospital.
"And yet Karen gave him a son," he said as if knowing where her thoughts had gone.
Sarah moved away from the window, her hand had gone to her lips to check her words, not wanting to say what she feared she would blurt out. "Yes... She gave him a son…."
The pencil moved as if by its self. "How did that make you feel?"
Sarah grabbed her arms. "I didn't feel anything." She lied.
'Sarah, turn back!' a voice said in her mind.
"I didn't…" she said again, looking about wildly.
Mayfaire sat back watching, she was close, very close. Lowering the pencil to the desk he reached forward, his hand moved over the paperweight. At first he just stroked it absently, his fingers seemingly gliding over the smooth surface. Seeing him handle the orb seemed to put terror into the pretty green eyes. He was waiting for her to confront her inner truths all he had to do was let her find the way to let it all out.
"I …" she turned, looked at him as if he were the devil himself. Watching him handle the orb was too much; she could not go though this again. "No!" she moved to the door quicker than he'd thought a girl could move.
He heard Agnes ask the girl where she was going and he heard the steps going up, instead of down to freedom. He walked into the waiting room. "It's alright, Agnes," he quietly. "Miss Williams just needs a moment of composure. Why don't you go home now, I'll close up."
The woman looked toward the direction the girl had gone, "Well, if you're sure." She picked up her coat and purse. "Good night, Doctor Mayfaire. I'll see you on Monday."
"Good night," he said pleasantly. He waited a few moments and then moved to the stairs, following the sounds of a sobbing young woman. She was easy to trail. He found her on the roof, huddled next to a heating vent stack, sobbing wildly. The wind was whipping up and her hair was blown about. He wondered if she had any idea of what she looked like. She turned at his approached.
Eyes red with tears, she cried out. "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean it!"
"Didn't mean what?" He asked coming closer, keeping himself in check.
"I didn't mean it." She gulped wildly. "I didn't mean to say the words…"
"Say what words," he asked.
"I didn't mean to wish Toby away!" She covered her face with her hands. "I didn't mean it, Goblin King, I didn't mean it!"
Mayfaire gave her a baleful gaze. "Oh, didn't you?" Sarah looked up; she'd heard the words, the tone, and then seeing his face and the wind in his hair, Sarah fainted. Mayfaire knelt down, picked the girl up and looked at her. "Tisk, tisk, child, didn't anyone ever tell you what's said is said?" He murmured as he carried the unconscious young woman back down to his office. "Oh, Sarah," he sighed. "What am I to do with you?"