130 Monday Morning 3 (1/2)

”Let's focus on the trigger first.” Dr. Moore suggested. ”What did you see? What did you hear? Smell? Touch? Taste? The five senses can tell you a lot.”

I pursed my lips with hesitation.

Noah gave me a nod. ”Don't hold back.”

”I heard Mrs. Atkins.” I slowly started. ”She said, 'that's my son' in regards to Zeke's hit.”

”And why do you think that upset you?” Dr. Moore questioned.

”She-She-she sounded...proud.” I stuttered, trying not to choke up. I closed my eyes to try and stop the tears. ”No one will say that about me.”

The room got quiet. I could only hear their breathing. No laughter from Noah. No sighing from Mr. Atkins. No sounds of note-taking from Dr. Moore.

”Jake-” Noah started to speak, but was cutoff by Dr. Moore.

”How do you know someone won't say that about you?”

I slowly opened my eyes and focused on him. ”Because I'm not anyone's son. My mother use to say 'my boy' but with negative connotations. With undertones of disgust, hate, and indifference. My dad already left. I wasn't enough of 'his son' to even keep, let alone be proud of.”

”What makes you think that only birth parents have the right to call you 'my son'?” Mr. Atkins spoke up. ”Is it not the same, if I call you my son? I'm a foster parent, you're a foster son; so why can't you be my son?”

My jaw dropped and I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. I didn't know what to say.

”Yea Dad!” Noah put an arm around my shoulder and tugged me in. ”Tell him! I already tell people that we're brothers so why can't Mom and Dad call you their son? Will it bug you? Will it make you angry? C'mon. Use your words. Let's hear it.”

Unsure, I looked at Dr. Moore for help. This is obviously not how a psych appointment should go, right? He just sat there, pen in hand, ready to record whatever I might say. I turned my attention to my shoes and studied the carpet. ”I wouldn't be bugged by it. I just don't want you guys to do it because you feel like you have to.”

I felt Mr. Atkins get up and soon his shoes faced mine. Then they disappeared as he got on his knees. I looked up and we were eye level.