cliché musings

“This good luck charm of yours,” Dr. Nelson said, “what makes you think it works?”

Valerie clutched the gem in her hand, fingernails indenting the soft skin of her palm. Dr. Nelson sat across from her in a leather armchair, one leg over the other, notepad balanced on her lap.

“Everything’s so different,” Valerie said. She looked down, twisting the turquoise stone between her fingers. The black cord slipped over her hand, a tied knot resting on her knuckle and hanging over her fingers. It reminded her of the shape of a noose. She looked back at Dr. Nelson.

“The senior marketing director decided to retire. He’s only, like, 58, you know. It was so unexpected. I wanted to plan this office party for him on his last day. I asked around, just tried to find out what his favorite foods were, what kind of music he liked. And then Annie—fucking PR Annie, she was only an intern last year—she tells me his wife was threatening to leave him. He spends too much time at the office. She thinks he’s cheating.”

“Sounds like Annie likes to gossip,” Dr. Nelson said.

“I think, well, what does Annie know? Intern Annie. So I plan the party, but he doesn’t seem very happy. He’s just standing in the corner the whole night, and I’m wondering if I just messed everything up, and now I’ll never get a promotion even though he’s leaving, but he comes over, and you know what he tells me? You’re doing a great job. That he’s seen so much potential in me since my first day. He hopes I can take his place.”

“Do you not feel you’ve earned the praise?”

“He puts his hand on my shoulder,” Valerie continued. “He squeezes. He’s staring at me—he has these blue eyes, right, and usually he’s always smiling and so bright, but something about his eyes was dark. Right then. Like his pupils were just a bit too large. His hand was so heavy on my shoulder, like this encompassing warmth that was stripping off my skin, and if it stayed too long I wouldn’t be able to get away. But I couldn’t even look at it. I was just looking at his eyes. He said if I ever needed anything, he could help me out. And then he just left. Left the party entirely.”

“That’s a complicated situation. I can see why it would make you uncomfortable, but don’t let that discredit your qualifications and success. You are not defined by his motives. Have you reported his behavior?”

“Annie came over, right after. I guess she was watching. She’s got on this super low-cut top you know, like we can all see her bra peeking out. It’s like she always has to have the attention on her. And you know what she says to me? She says, oh, he was definitely cheating. And she just walks away. She kind of looks at me whenever I see her at the office now- always raising her eyebrows and whatever. I feel like it’s getting to me, like, whenever I close my eyes, I just see her face. Sometimes I picture her eyebrows lifting so high they escape from her forehead and fly away like hairy, blocky birds. And then I imagine her crying because she doesn’t have any eyebrows. And everyone just laughs at her, and then her eyebrows fly back and start flapping around her head. So she jumps and jumps, trying to grab them, but they just fly up even higher. Everyone’s still laughing.”

Dr. Nelson was silent. Quiet for a long time. The gem in Valerie’s hand started to burn, like metal left out too long in the sun.

Dr. Nelson tapped her pen against the notepad, bottom lip tucked in her mouth. “It seems like you’re struggling with an inability to control your situation. But I have to ask, just so I can understand where this fear is coming from: was your relationship with the marketing director… anything more than professional?”

“After my mom died, I thought it was over,” Valerie said. “Like, oh, she’s gone now. It’s sad, but I can stop worrying about her. I can put all of my focus on my job and my relationships and be free from her hand on my shoulder. There’s nothing more I can do for her. And then they bring me the charm. They said it was with her suicide note, she wanted me to have it, for good luck, I guess. And I’m thinking, wow, just another way to fuck me in the ass. I’m always going to have to carry it around, or she’s gonna come back from the dead and haunt me. I can just see her as this translucent shadow, waving her spider arms around, and she comes into my room at night, holding the charm. And then she’ll pry my mouth open while I’m sleeping and force me to swallow the charm. I can’t get rid of it then, can I? I’ll choke and choke on it, desperately attempting to get a breath of air, but the charm will block any oxygen from reaching my lungs. And then I’ll have to give up, just like her, because there’s no one to help. I’ll just close my eyes. I won’t even be able to take a last breath, no, that happened while I was asleep. I’ll die with no last breath to remember. And I’ll be a ghost, just like her, and she’ll have what she always wanted.”

Dr. Nelson stopped writing notes a while ago. “Do you think there’s a deeper rooted—?”

“And you know what? At work, they told me, as the assisting marketing director, you’re the only one who can fill his shoes. And I said, well, that’s very flattering, but I’m sure someone is better qualified. And they said, no, not at all, we want you to have the job. And now my salary is fifteen thousand higher a year. And I could fire Annie if I wanted to and stop seeing her eyebrows, but she’s kind of like the charm. If I get rid of it, will all these bad things start to happen?”

No one said a word after that. Valerie watched the doctor watch her, pen frozen over the notepad. An alarm blasted through the air, and Dr. Nelson shook, legs jumping as she reached over for her phone on the table.

“I think we’re out of time,” she said. “But I recommend we continue this conversation at our next appointment.”

“As long as I have the charm,” Valerie said, “I’ll definitely be back.”