" i don’t have t'know everythin'. just what you’re comfortable tellin' me. "
❝but that’s not what rester said about therapists. he said you have to tell the doctor everything, or she won’t be able to treat you right.❞
and by rester, he meant FATHER–that is, the one who claimed to be his father, and the one he just couldn’t see as anything other than a father, whether he liked it or not. he knows he should know better than to trust a man whose only basis for suspecting that nate had autism was a quick glance at WebMD. he’d seen that search history, he’d seen all the google searches, he’d seen rester’s frantic emails to the war veterans he knew and all the same responses back: yeah, he DOES sound like a real tough case of posttraumatic stress–as though near were just another case to solve, and not a human–and well you could have fucking told me that before i came here, he thought bitterly, gritting his teeth at the memory. he’d seen him type–and there was no taking this back–what is wrong with my son. and yet rester always seemed right. rester always seemed kind. there was just something about rester, and something about nate, that made him always right when nate was wrong.
don’t doubt the kind man who looks out for your interests, he told himself. just like he never doubted wammy’s. do not bite the hand that feeds you, they had taught him; you should be lucky you have food at all. and so he did not bite the hand that paid the bills. common courtesy, really, not to question good intentions, no matter how far to hell they paved the road.
don’t doubt the kind man, ran his policy.
but do doubt the one who takes the cash.
❝isn’t that so, doctor?❞ he continued his challenge. ❝if i don’t tell you now, i’ll have to eventually. how do i know that that’s not what you want from me? because if that’s what it is, then we’re done. i’m out.❞
he gathered his bag over his shoulder, ready to walk out as soon as she confirmed his suspicions. she’ll say it, he thought. implying it, or telling me, or lying at first and revealing the truth later…one way or the other. SHE’LL SAY IT.
