Page 32 of Bean
She gave me a sweet smile. “The man was eighty-nine and died doing what he loved most: fishing. My mother found him in his fishing chair by the creek behind their house. What a way to go.”
It sure was.
“I’m sure we’d all sign up for that, given the chance,” Nash said. “But it’s still hard to lose a parent.”
“It’s part of life, but yes, it’s not easy. Anyway, let’s talk a little more about your headaches, Bean. Do you remember if you feel them coming?”
“With those severe migraines, I do. I’ll always have a light headache when I wake up, which I note during my self-scan. The other ones, I don’t remember.”
“Sergeant Brockway, any insights you can offer there?”
Nash nodded. “It seems to me he’s grown more sensitive to light. Whenever he’s outside for a prolonged period, he gets headaches, even when wearing sunglasses.”
Let me tell you, it’s the strangest sensation to have someone else remember things about you that you don’t. I had no clue what he was talking about. Absolutely none. But I didn’t doubt he was right. Nash was rarely wrong, and he missed little.
Dr. Hanley made a note on her computer. “You may want to look into wrap-around sunglasses,” she told me. “They’re not stylish, but they could prevent issues.”
I dutifully wrote it down—not that Nash wouldn’t remind me if needed. “I gave up on caring about outward appearances a long time ago,” I said with a shrug. “If it prevents headaches, I’m in.”
“Anything else, Sergeant?”
“I’ve noticed that his reboots, for lack of a better term, are more frequent. He’ll be disoriented for a few seconds and need to restart his brain as he describes it.”
That actually sounded familiar. I’d had one the other day, hadn’t I? When I’d been with…
Rhymes with Derek.
Jarek.
I’d had one with Jarek. Of course my brain would recall that, but not the man’s actual face.
“Sound familiar, Bean?”
“It does. I know I’ve had a few recently.” I checked my book. “I’ve written four down, but I think there may have been more.”
She leaned back in her chair. “You started a new job, correct?”
“Yes. I’m a cook at Eddie’s, a bar. I love it.”
“It’s not too strenuous?”
“The owner knows about my disability and my limitations, and I have permission to step away if needed. He’s been willing to offer any accommodations I need.”
She gave me a warm smile. “Sounds like you picked a good one, Bean. Employers like that are rare.”
“Zayd’s a great guy,” Nash said. “I met him in person, and I was in awe of what he’s willing to do to offer employment to veterans and people with disabilities. It’s impressive and, as you said, rare.”
“It is, unfortunately.” She checked her notes. “Have you had any impulses to self-harm?”
I shook my head. “That’s been improving, and the visualization stuff is working well now that I actually remember it.”
She wrote a few things down. “Before we go over your scans, are there any other changes you’d like me to know?”
I’d debated this up and down, but in the end, my need for the best treatment possible outweighed any potential embarrassment. “I’m sexually active again.”
Her face was completely neutral. “That’s great progress, Bean. You’re not experiencing any issues during sexual activities?”
Oh, I had not seen that one coming. I flipped through my notebook, checking if I’d made any notes after my second encounter with Jarek. Hmm, I hadn’t written anything down, so that was probably a no, then? I was certain I would have, had something happened that was significant enough to mention to Dr. Hanley. “I don’t think so. Is there anything I shouldn’t do?”