“Yeah, well, he just might have been wrong on that count too.”

“Be that as it may, it really is not my point, Rowan.”

“I’m listening.”

“He is concerned.”

“Yeah, well no offense, Helen, but I’ve got other things on my mind right now, so if he’s looking for absolution tell him to try a confessional.”

“He is not concerned about forgiveness. He is worried about you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Rowan,” Helen’s voice took on a stern quality I wasn’t used to hearing when speaking with her. “Stop this. I know that you have a dire situation with which to cope. And, after our talk yesterday I think that I, better than anyone, know the stress you have been facing lately.

“I want you to understand that I am certainly not begging sympathy for my brother. However, as both a therapist and as your friend, I am telling you that you simply must let go of some of this anger.”

“I can’t, Helen. It’s all that’s keeping me afloat right now.”

“In the short run, I would say that is a good thing. However, I know you, Rowan. You will not let this subside, and you will continue feeding it. If you do that, then it is no longer a good thing. It becomes unhealthy.”

“Well, we all have our addictions, don’t we?” I replied, making a veiled reference to her chain smoking. “I guess this one will be mine for the time being.”

I was sorry I made the stab as soon as it came out of my mouth, but what was done was done. I’m certain she caught my meaning, she was too smart and far too quick not to. Still, she graciously ignored it. I suppose she was used to people lashing out when under stress.

“If so, then I suspect you will again be needing my services when you finally sink,” she told me in an almost purely clinical voice. “Because trust me, you are going to be hitting the bottom very fast and very hard. I am serious, Rowan. Very hard.”