DISCLAIMERS/WARNING: This is Uber. There is violence and bad language and annoying people. It is a dark tale. No sex.

APOLOGY: Sorry for the long delay between updates. New computer system, new email, new job; all conspiring to keep me from finishing this story.

NEW EMAIL ADDRESS: p.phair@comcast.net

COUNTERTRANSFERENCE

by phair

Part 5

"Way to go, Mary!" The teenage cheered and clapped as best he could.

"Now, I owe her five," the stroke lady slurred.

"Everybody calm down," the therapist tried not to laugh. "Dr. O'Grady, did you get hurt?"

"What did you do that for?" O'Grady ignored the ridiculous question and turned on Mary.

"Cuz, we're all sick of you!" The haggard looking Asian man on oxygen gasped. "I flew here from Alabama for," the man took a deep breath, "the best care possible and you're acting," another long breath, "like it's punishment."

"J, J, J er K!" The stroke guy sputtered out finally.

"Come on, kid," Mary smiled gently at O'Grady, "we need to help each other out here or ... some of us won't make it home."

"And what would all of you like me to do?" O'Grady barked.

"How 'bout sittin' up straight?" The therapist began.

"Wipe the puss off," the guy on oxygen gasped, "your face."

"Try saying 'hello' once in a while," the kid glared at her.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," the guy in the corner joined in.

O'Grady felt the tears welling up in her eyes. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. She was sure it made the hideous scar running from her hair line to mid cheek even more obvious. Needing to do something, anything, she took a firm hold of her wheels and pushed forward. The room hushed as she inched toward Mary.

"Fine," O'Grady's voice cracked as she tried to hold back her tears and struggled to produce the requested smile, "it's my turn to toss the ball around." Mary snickered as she handed over the beach ball. "I suggest you should all prepare to duck!"

"Show us what you got, girl!" The man in the corner cheered her.

The psychiatrist was exhausted but pushed her wheelchair the last few feet to the doors of the locked unit. Before she could even try knocking, Jill opened the door for her.

"You can come in if you promise not to yell at me," the nurse deadpanned.

"Promise," O'Grady hesitated a moment, "and I'm sorry."

"Jesus, are you alright," the nurse grabbed her wrist and felt the pulse wildly racing under her finger tips.

"It's okay. I just came from therapy. More work than I'm use to. Should have taken a nap," the doctor wiped her sweaty brow, "but I want to see Devyn."

Jill was clearly unhappy. She considered her options.

"I'll bring you into Devyn's room but I need to call your attending."

"Fine," O'Grady slumped back in the chair and let the nurse push her to her destination.

When the psychiatrist was wheeled through the open door Devyn was laying on her bed reading. She was wearing tan scrub instead of the orange ones required previously. Her new therapist said something about having "suffered enough" but Devyn was sure O'Grady had something to do with the easing of the rules.

"Hey, doc, you're looking pale," Devyn was concerned.

"She just pushed too hard," Jill reassured. "Can you keep an eye on her while I give Dr. Lindgren a call?"

Devyn nodded happily as the nurse departed. She noticed the immediate frown form on O'Grady's face.

"No fun being a patient is it?"

"No," the doctor shook her head. "but I wanted to check on you. You know, make sure you got settled in, met your new therapist, that you..., hey, your cast is off."

"Time flies when you're institutionalized," Devyn grinned as she wiggled the fingers of her recently healed arm. "By the way, I think I need to thank you for getting me back here. The past two days here made up for the last two weeks in jail."

"It shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have let it...,"

"Well, you were a little busy trying to stay alive," Devyn raised a hand to stop the doctor in mid sentence. "Is it okay for me to ask how you're rehab is going?"

"They kicked my ass today," O'Grady whined and Devyn giggled. "Seriously, all the other patients ganged up on me. They called me a cry baby. One of them hit me in the head with a beach ball."

O'Grady pointed to the offended body part. Devyn had to hold her sides she was laughing so hard.

"Go on, laugh!"

"Sorry," Devyn tried to sober. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Try harder," the doctor wiped her sweaty brow with her sleeve. "I've spent most of the last year learning to be a better person and I can't let the…, this set me back." Devyn nodded her understanding of the unspoken event. "So, I'll smile and make pleasant conversation with staff and patients. In therapy, I'll do everything that little twerp therapist tells me to do without rolling my eyes."

"Will you visit the sick?" Devyn dared to ask.

"No," O'Grady saw the young woman's jaw tighten. "I'd rather have my lunches with a friend. If that's okay with you?"

"If you're buying then I'm eating," Devyn grinned.

O'Grady sat quietly in her wheelchair as Joseph folded her clothes into the suitcase. They gave the outward appearance of listening to the Professor. He paced back and forth as he spoke stopping only to emphasize his point. Just as he had done during his teaching years.

"So, taking all the available facts into consideration, it would not be prudent for you to return to the cottage. Even with your stay on the rehab unit, you still need assistance with your daily care never mind the demands of an unstaffed house. The estate's staff is more than able to meet your needs. There is only one choice in this matter. You must return home."

Joseph stiffened but continued to fold his daughter's clothes.

"We agree then, Professor," the psychiatrist smiled broadly. "I must return to my home. And, my home is at the beach."

Joseph winked at his daughter but kept his back toward his father-in-law. O'Grady did not acknowledge the encouragement. There was no need for both of them to fall out of favor with the Professor.

"You can't be serious," the old man flushed with frustration. "The cottage is...,"

"...my home. Professor, you need to understand that regardless of what you say, I'm going home. I'm going back to the beach house."

"I FORBID you from returning to a drafty, unkempt summer escape."

"Please," Joseph dropped the shirt he was folding and turned to face the Professor, "Fredrick, I am sad like you. Our girl vants to be on her own. You and me, vant to take her care," he frowned at his poor command of his 'native' tongue. "But, Kat Leen must live her life."

"I would have thought better of you, Mr. O'Grady," the Professor ignored the flattening of his granddaughter's smile, "but your history speaks for itself. You were never much of a father and now you prove yourself even less as a man."

"Stop it," O'Grady spat out the words.

"Stop? You want me to stop. You are embarking on a tragic path with the blessings of this..., imbecile...,"

"Professor," O'Grady bolted out of her wheelchair to tower over him, "you will not speak about my father like that. Not today or ever again in the future." The psychiatrist saw fear in the old eyes staring at her and softened the next sentence, "Grandfather, I appreciate your concern about my well being. You have been wonderful visiting me and sneaking me those greasy burgers from joint across the street," she placed her hands on his shoulders as much to steady her weak body as to calm him. "But, Joseph is my father. I can't let you talk to him like he doesn't matter."

"I raised you," the old man's face reddened. "Where was he? Where was your mother? I'll tell you; college, grad school, touring Europe. They dropped you on my doorstep at six months. I had to be both your father and mother while they saw the world."

O'Grady did not answer the claim. It was a half truth. The Professor funded his daughter and her husband in all their endeavors. It was good for the family reputation to have successful offspring. O'Grady was raised by nannies and then boarding school teachers. But, the analyst in her knew the Professor could not face the whole truth at the moment. His control of the family was slipping away. O'Grady needed to assure him he would not losing everything.

"I love you, grandfather," she hugged the old man.

Dr. Fredrick Vontz did something he had not done since infancy. The Professor cried.

Devyn practiced a smile. It felt stiff and fake. And it was both. Today Dr. O'Grady would visit her for the last time. The analyst was due to be discharged that very afternoon. Devyn would be released the following morning. She guessed they would never see each other again after they finished lunch. It had become a pleasant routine for the two of them. The psychiatrist made it clear they were not having "sessions" as Devyn was working with a staff therapist. The pair were just patients eating lunch together. Devyn ached at the thought of their quickly approaching last lunch. A knock on the door signaled the beginning of the end.

"Come in," Devyn faked her smile.

"I've got take out," O'Grady mumbled around the brown bag held in her teeth as she shouldered the door open and inched forward on crutches. "How 'bout a hand?"

"Depends on what's in the bag," Devyn held the door wide open.

"Greasy burgers, what else?"

"Your diet went all to Hell, you know that?"

The doctor grinned but caught the forced smile on Devyn's lips immediately.

"What's wrong?" O'Grady ventured as she started to set up their lunch.

"Nothing's wrong! What could be wrong?" Devyn defended. "In fact, things are looking up. You get to go home this afternoon and I get sprung tomorrow. We should be celebrating. How are you feeling anyway? Any big plans for your homecoming?"

"Don't change the subject," O'Grady waved her over to the table to eat. "Devyn, tell me what's wrong."

The young woman wrung her hands trying to think of how to begin. Or, if she should even try to say what she was thinking. It was going to sound so selfish.

"I'm gonna miss you," Devyn blurted out and sunk into the chair across form the doctor.

"Maybe not," O'Grady winked. "Eat your burger before it becomes a puddle of cold grease instead of warm grease. Then we'll talk."

Devyn grudgingly obliged. Her mind spinning while the doctor made conversation; fat content of burgers, returning to a strict diet after discharge, and such. Devyn gulped the last of her food in record time wanting to get to the promised "talk."

"So?" Devyn asked expectantly.

"That was fast," O'Grady compared her half eaten lunch to Devyn's empty plate. "Okay, I won't keep you in suspense any longer. Devyn, I live alone in this big house at the beach. My family has reservations about my returning there so soon after...," O'Grady trailed off unwilling to verbalize the assault.

"So, why not go live with them for a couple of months," Devyn frowned wondering what any of this had to do with her.

"Ha, that's what they want but I like my house. Sure is needs some fixing up but this would be the perfect time to do it. See, I'm taking a leave of absence to get myself together," O'Grady saw that none of this was making any sense to Devyn. "I want to hire you to stay with me."

"What?" Devyn almost choked.

"I know you trained as a home health aide and you need a place to stay and...,"

"...a job. I got my termination notice yesterday."

"You can fight that," O'Grady wanted Devyn clear on all her options. "You're an American with a Disability. They just can't fire you."

"The truth," Devyn gave a rueful grin, "it was a terrible job and I was bad at it. I'm surprised it didn't happen before I stopped coming in. Who knows, I might have done a better job for them by not showing up." Devyn needed more information about the doctor's offer, "What would I have to do for you?"

"Baby-sit," O'Grady sighed. "I can wash and dress myself but I haven't been cleared to walk alone for more than a few feet. My wheelchair is parked right outside your door. The damn occupational therapist won't let me cook on the stove yet because of my balance. My endurance sucks!" The doctor rubbed her forehead to hide her humiliation, "Basically, I have the same restrictions as a nine year old, the patience of a two year old, the strength of an eighty year old, all trapped in the body of a very pissed off thirty five year old."

Devyn could hold her giggle back no longer. O'Grady glared at her.

"Sorry, but have you thought about talking to a ...psychiatrist," Devyn burst into peels of laughter. "Really sorry, but if I tried such pathetic song and dance on you then you would have left me chained to that gurney."

Hesitantly, O'Grady smiled. The happy twinkle in Devyn's eyes finally forced a laugh. The psychiatrist had to hold her side at the sudden flash of pain.

"Ah, not as healed as I want to think, yet." O'Grady grimaced waiting for the pain to subside. "So, will you help me, Devyn?"

"If I do this then you can never be my doctor again, right?"

"I may never be anybody's doctor again. How can I help other people when I can't even find myself?"

Devyn winced at the thought. While time off could be healing for the doctor, leaving her profession completely would be a mistake. She was certain it would be an unbearable loss for both the physician and her patients.

"I'll help you if you promise to try to 'find' the doctor in you. That way I'll know the babysitting won't last forever," Devyn bartered.

"Agreed," the two shook on their deal.

The security guard strong armed Devyn into the hospital's lobby. He had been her official escort on many trips around the hospital and more often than not left bruises on her upper arm from his bony fingers. His grip loosened when he spotted the wheelchair bound O'Grady waiting just inside the front doors. He released his hold completely under the doctor's icy glare.

"I thought you went home yesterday," Devyn rubbed her arm unconsciously.

"Pulled a couple of strings," O'Grady turned from the cocky guard to smile at the Devyn, "to get one more night of room service. Besides, it saved Alby a second trip," she tossed a glance to the burly, starched suited chauffer behind her. "Alby, this is Devyn Tannon."

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Tannon," he tipped his graying head politely. "Can I help you with your things?"

"This is it," Devyn looked down her length at the donated t-shirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, "and their not even mine."

"Hey," O'Grady heard the embarrassment in the young woman's tone, "your landlord had to store your property. We'll call from the car to find out how to pick it up."

"Dr. O'Grady," Alby coughed slightly to interrupt, "the items from Ms. Tannon's apartment are at the cottage already. The Professor made arrangements last night for an early delivery. I'm sorry that everything is still boxed as I did not have enough time to do more than assemble the furniture."

O'Grady scowled. She shifted uncomfortably in her wheelchair before addressing Devyn.

"The Professor can be somewhat presumptuous when it comes to family matters. I'm sorry for this invasion of your privacy," O'Grady flushed a bit.

Devyn replayed the phrase 'family' in her mind. It had been so long since any family claimed her that Devyn was not entirely sure she wanted to be associated with one. She took a full heartbeat to decide she liked the idea of being part of a whole.

"Sorry? Sorry that my things are safe and waiting for me? Sorry that some teacher I don't even know took care of them? Don't be!"

"The Professor," O'Grady smirked at the thought of the Professor Emeritus being placed on the same level as a ordinary teacher, "is my grandfather. He can be very heavy handed at times. I'll have a chat with him about boundaries once we settle in. Now, shall we be on our way?"

O'Grady asked rhetorically as Alby took control of her chair. He lead the little band out of the hospital to the Rolls Royce waiting by curb. The doctor brushed off Alby's attempt to help her. Managing to grunt and curse her way into the back seat.

"Good luck, you're gonna need it."" the security guard slapped Devyn on the back more forcefully than necessary before retreating into the building.

Devyn ignored him. She barely felt the sting of the hit. She was too consumed with being outside. After sixty days as a prisoner held behind brick and mortar, Devyn was free. Air never smell so sweet. Birds never chirped as clear. The sun never shone so strong. Her revelry was interrupted by Alby motioning for her to enter the car.

"You commute this way everyday?" Devyn teased when she took her place next to the panting doctor.

"I'm not allowed to drive yet. It was either Alby or an ambulance," O'Grady rolled her eyes as much from embarrassment as the pain of moving her healing body. "The Professor even had my car towed to the estate to keep me from getting any ideas."

"Sounds like he loves you," Devyn felt a twinge of envy and needed to change the topic. "So, you're richer than just a doctor."

"You could say that," O'Grady chuckled easing her aching body into the seat. "My great-great grandfather was rich as a doctor and invested ruthlessly."

Devyn quirked an eyebrow at the odd word choice. O'Grady sighed heavily.

"Dynamite."

"Wasn't your, ah, … he a …"

"A psychiatrist, yep. I guess he really understood human nature." O'Grady shrugged, "I try to focus my attentions on the more positive aspects of his character."

The doctor ran her index finger absent mindedly around the bandage at her throat.

"Don't scratch," Devyn placed a cautious hand on the doctor's forearm. "You'll make things worse picking at it."

"Can't look much worse than it does already," O'Grady dropped her arm and looked out the window as Alby steered the car into traffic.

Devyn did not press for details. She had seen the doctor's agony surface from time to time. It was silent and simmering and kept tightly guarded by O'Grady. Devyn was certain the doctor would need to let break free once she was in a safe place.

The drive to the beach was a pleasant tour of small town New England. Where the present's progress came to a grinding impasse with an unyielding past. History was not confined to the pages of books in places they past on the way from Boston to the shore; cities and towns like Milton, Quincy, and Hingham. Buildings built in the sixteen and seventeen hundreds litter the streets like leaves in the fall. Monuments and placards carry the names that grew a nation; Adams, Lincoln, Kennedy, Bush.

As the concrete gave way to grass and trees, Devyn felt the weight of the last two months ease. The strain of being alone and sick seemed to drain with each mile taking her away from the hospital and closer to home. Home. It was not a question in her mind. It was a certainty. At the end of this trip, Devyn Tannon would be home.

"Here we are," O'Grady's voice broke the stillness.

Here, indeed. Devyn thought they were pulling off the main road and onto a side street. The 'street' turn out to be a driveway leading to a rambling two story house. It was an indulgent Tudor style that, in its day, must have shocked the conservative neighbors. Devyn found herself mesmerized by it as she followed O'Grady and Alby up a newly constructed ramp.

"Grandfather thought of everything," O'Grady grumbled about the addition that allowed her wheelchair easy access.

"Except furniture. How long have you been living here?" Devyn scanned the empty rooms in wonder.

"On and off for two years and full time since February. I have my bedroom stuff and an office on the second floor," O'Grady defended.

"Ah, Doctor, your grandfather insisted I move your bedroom downstairs."

Devyn saw the anger flash in O'Grady's eyes. She did not want the doctor to react without thinking and hurt Alby's feelings. The pair seemed to have a generally good relationship.

"I hate to interrupt," Devyn blurted out, "but I really need to use the …well, your bathroom."

"I have five," O'Grady took a deep breath, "unless my Grandfather moved them too. Al, could you show Devyn to the bathroom."

"Certainly, Dr. O'Grady. Ms. Tannon, why don't I show you your room? It has a full bath," Alby was grateful for a chance to put space between himself and the angry doctor.

Devyn followed Alby up the stairwell and down the hall in silence. He gave her a happy wink before leaving her to explore her room. She was not surprised to see her few belongings fit easily into the spacious room. It was the view of the ocean that took her breath away. The bowed window gave an unobstructed view of the Atlantic.

"I really am home," she whispered as much for herself as for the presence she felt behind her.

"And I thought the view from upstairs was impressive," Devyn found O'Grady in a grand central room staring out a wall of glass at the sea.

"This was the only change I made in the house. It was ridiculous to have two tiny windows in this room," O'Grady turned her chair to face the young woman.

"It could be said, it's also ridiculous to have a beautiful but empty house," Devyn sat on the hard wood floor across from the O'Grady. "So, tell me doc, why am I really here?"

"You get right to the point now a days. Your therapist is making really good progress with you."

"Yeah and now you change the subject when you want to avoid the issue." Devyn would not let the doctor off the hook, "Why did you really bring me here?"

"Your, you can, we both know…, oh Hell," the fluster doctor dragged her fingers through her hair. "Your gift! Okay, I want to know if you see anything, anyone."

Devyn studied O'Grady for a few minutes before answering.

"She doesn't want me to talk about her yet," Devyn conceded.

"I knew it," O'Grady looked around in a futile effort to see what only Devyn could. "I knew she was here all along."

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