Ellen

Discreetly Ellen Burgess looked away as the young woman exited the office.  She was red-eyed and pale, and her hands twisted nervously.

“You are going to be alright,” Kevin Collins reassured the young woman.  “But you know that you can call me at any time to talk.  You have my number.”

“Thank you, Doctor Collins.” 

Even though Ellen was less than five feet from the young woman, she had to strain just to hear her reply.  Ellen’s heart went out to the young woman barely out of her teens.  She took comfort that whatever it was that troubled the young woman so would be rectified in time.  Of that Ellen had no doubt.  Her faith in Kevin Collins’ psychiatric skills was that strong.

“There are times,” Kevin mused, after his client left the office, “that I really believe holidays are a curse.”  He stepped back into his office. 

Doctor Ellen Burgess followed.  She’d suspected that tonight Kevin might be busier than usual counseling patients.  It was, after all, the day before Valentine’s day.  For those vulnerable people without someone special in their lives, or those who had been emotionally injured, it was not a particularly pleasant time of year.  “You will help her through,” Ellen vowed.

Kevin scoffed.  “I wasn’t talking about her.”  He noticed his friend’s quizzical tilt of the head.  “I suppose it’s a case of ‘Physician, heal thyself’.”

Ellen stared at Kevin for a long time.   “Yes.  With a little help from your friends.”  She walked over to the office door and turned the lock.  “The doctor is now out,” she murmured.  Ellen moved over to the bookshelf filled with medical tomes.  Standing on tiptoe, she reached up and turned on the small radio Kevin kept hidden behind some books.

The dulcet tones of Anita Baker softly filled the room.  Ellen held out her hand to her colleague and friend.  “Dance with me?”

“I would love to.”