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week.
    “Morgan, we’ve been doing great. Why do we need to
keep doing this?”
    “Because you promised.”
    Drew groaned, whined, and did all but throw himself
on the floor in a tantrum, but I won and he went. I think I was more interested
in finding out who Drew was, more than fixing anything. He’d never talked about
his family, his mother, grandparents, where he grew up, school friends,
nothing. I guess I’ve always pictured Drew as an adult. I’d never even seen a
picture of him as a little boy, or his mother. He got rid of everything in her
room years before. I just didn’t understand why.
    “I was beginning to think you guys had the perfect
life now,” Deidra spouted, opening the door to her office for us.
    “We do,” Drew retorted. I gave him a look. He didn’t
want to do this. He wasn’t the least bit interested in digging up old bones. I
wanted him to do this. I needed him to do this.
    “Let’s start with your earliest memory, Drew. Say
around three or four. Do you remember where you lived at that age?” Deidra
began.
    “Yes, I lived in an apartment over Baker’s Drugstore
on Freeport.”
    “So you’ve always been a Vegas native?”
    “No. You asked me to remember where I lived when I
was three or four. I was born in Idaho Falls.” My head instantly turned in his
direction. I never knew that. I thought he always lived here in Vegas.
    “How old were you when you came to Vegas?”
    “Three.”
    Deidra had to continue to ask the questions. Drew
wasn’t volunteering anything on his own.
    “Where is your father?”
    Drew shrugged. “Never met the man, well, not that I
remember anyway. I guess he’s still in Idaho.”
    “Were your parents married?”
    “No.”
    “Why did you move to Vegas?”
    “Because I was three years old. I didn’t have a lot
of say in the matter.”
    “Okay, why did your mother move to Vegas?”
    “She had a fight with my grandparents. She took me
and left.”
    “Do you know what the fight was about?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Do you think it matters?”
    “Is this really necessary? What does me being three
have to do with Morgan and me?”
    “We discussed this when Morgan talked, remember? We
can skip to the symptom if you want. I don’t care. It’s your money, you’re
paying me. Here, why don’t I just write you a prescription, a magic pill that’ll
just make everything perfect? Is that what you want, Drew?” Deidra asked,
moving from her customary chair to behind her desk. I held my breath, waiting
for Drew to drag me out of her office, never to see her again.
    “Drew, please,” I softly pleaded, placing my hand on
his forearm. I didn’t like the look. I knew the look. He was pissed.
    “Fine, you want to know
how I grew up? You think this shit is going to cure the problem? What
the fuck is the problem anyway?” Drew asked, standing and raising his voice.
    Neither Deidra nor I spoke.
    “You want the fucked up details? Is that what you
want?” he yelled, looking right at Deidra.
    “Nothing you say could surprise me,” she confessed,
nodding for him to continue with raised eyebrows.
    “We moved here to get away from my grandfather.”
    “What do you mean?” Deidra coaxed. Drew turned to
look out the window, lowering his voice.
    “My grandfather was my mother’s stepdad. When my
grandmother went off the deep end, ending up in a psych ward, she was made to
take her place. She was thirteen.”
    I gasped.
    “Drew is your mother’s stepdad, your father?” Deidra
tentatively asked.
    “Yes.”
    I audibly gasped that time. I couldn’t help it.
Deidra gave me a look, wanting me to keep it together trying to keep him
talking. I didn’t know what to think. Drew kept this bottled up inside him all
these years. His step grandfather was also his father. Holy fuck!
    “How old was your mother when she got pregnant with
you?”
    “Fifteen. My mother was a little sick as well. I
mean, who wouldn’t be after that, right?” Drew asked as he continued.