Steve reached the lobby door to the therapist's office first and yanked at it. The door was locked. Sarah stopped scrolling through her phone and joined him to peer through the window at the lobby.

 

"What the hell," Sarah said to Steve like it was his fault.

 

Steve shrugged and noticed a Post-it note on the floor inside the door.

 

"Looks like he left a note," he said.

 

"UPS: Please leave package at Suite 323," Steve read out loud.

 

"What... the... hell?" Sarah said again and stared at Steve.

 

Like Steve's nail biting, Sarah's swearing had increased in recent months. She'd given up manners in general when it came to Steve but he'd kept silent about it, not wanting to make her any angrier around the kids.

 

"Well. I guess we could go see a movie or something?" Steve suggested, his shoulders raised in a preemptory apologetic shrug.

 

"He could have called. Why didn't he call? Doesn't he usually call if he has to cancel?" Sarah asked.

 

"I don't know, honey. Maybe he had an emergency."

 

Sarah looked at Steve, horrified.

 

"Do you mean - like - something happened to him?"

 

Sarah was so up and down lately and Steve had no idea how to read her anymore. He thought he knew what would piss her off, what wouldn't, what would make her laugh, what would make her storm out of the room. But over the past year, she'd become so unpredictable that negotiating her moods was its own full time job.

 

"Or. I don't know. A family emergency?" Steve tried to soften his earlier prediction.

 

"What does that even mean? You always hear people say it — ‘family emergency' — but it can mean anything. Like, I can't figure out how to get my internet working. Sorry. Family emergency. When was it - a month ago? One of the junior partners at the office claimed she had a family emergency. When she came back to work, we ignored the hickeys on her neck. It did look like she'd been crying for days, though. I remember I was really horny after my brother died. Like I just needed to feel alive and having sex was the only way...What?"

 

Steve was holding his breath while he listened to Sarah. Their conversations lately made him feel like he was clutching a raft at sea, waiting to hit land.   

 

"You know I've never thought about Harry's family," Sarah continued. "I suppose we know he's married because of the wedding ring. But I've never thought about whether he has kids. Or grandkids? He's old enough," Sarah paused and glanced up to the second floor at Harry's darkened window. "We just come in and dump all our crap and he nods and makes suggestions about how to do a better job of resolving things. Then we forget what he says until the next time we come in and dump the same crap."

 

Steve nodded. He was only partially listening, fascinated by her use of "we," as if her complaints were their complaints. He rarely said anything during their therapy sessions, mostly just added something when she turned to him with anger flashing in her eyes.

 

"Do you think he tells his wife about us? I wonder what his wife does for a living. He's been a therapist for a long time. I wonder if we're like all the other couples he works with. Does every couple dump the same crap on him?"

 

Steve leaned against the door and nodded silently. He felt like Harry when they were headed to some eureka moment about their relationship. Steve had been telling Sarah for a long time that every couple has problems. But she wanted to stay justifiably angry about their particular problems. And she sought validation from Harry that they were uniquely dysfunctional.

 

"I wonder what he does when he's not listening to people's crap. Like, does he golf? Do therapists golf? I could see him playing squash. Or racquetball. I can't picture him playing basketball, though. Can you?"

 

"I don't know, Sarah. I guess I've never thought about Harry's hobbies before. That's not really why we come here," Steve said then braced himself for her reaction.

 

Steve flinched slightly then relaxed as Sarah's laughter washed over him. He took her into his arms and she leaned in to kiss him.

 

They were interrupted by a splash of headlights from a car pulling into the lot. The driver paused behind their car then went to another space and parked. A man got out, went around to the passenger side, and opened the door for a woman. She stayed absorbed in her phone as she emerged from the car and headed toward them.

 

"Oh!" The woman said, nearly stumbling on a step.

 

They all stared at each other for a moment, trying to figure out if they knew each other from their kids soccer practices or school. Steve cleared his throat and reached for Sarah's elbow.

 

"Excuse us," he said and nodded at the man as he steered Sarah past them.

 

He opened the door for Sarah and waited for her to settle in. She reached to the other side and unlocked his door. When he got in, he was surprised to see her looking at him instead of at her phone. She stilled his hand as he began to start the car.

 

"Just a sec," she said and turned to watch the couple.

 

As the woman's voice rose, the man stared past her at Harry's darkened window.