"You know why. I told you he hurt me and Patty."

"There are many ways to hurt someone, Crystal. What did he do?"

Her right foot began twitching nervously. "I dunno, everything I guess."

"You do know. No copouts."

Crystal turned and glared at the therapist. "He hit us," she said angrily. "He thought being our father gave him the right to beat the shit out of us whenever he wanted. That enough?" She looked back at the diplomas, waiting for the reaction to her outburst.

"You tell me," Jenny said calmly. "Are your nightmares about him hitting you and your sister?"

"They're about a lot of things," she shrugged, her anger deflated somewhat by the gentle tone directed at her. "Sometimes." "What are they about most of the time?"

The foot moved faster. "Different things." Just say it, the little voice in her head screamed. Go ahead. Shock her ass and tell her how he used to crawl into your bed at night. Tell her what a dirty little girl you were. Crystal's breathing increased, the walls of the large office seeming far too confining. "I-I gotta go," she said suddenly, rising from her chair.

"Crystal, wait." Jenny stood as well, the clipboard casually tossed on the couch.

"No, I have to go."

"You can end a session any time you feel you have to but I don't want you to run off because you're afraid to face feelings that come up in here." She reached around Crystal and picked up the notebook. "Remember that whatever you say in this room, whatever you write about in this book, it stays here. No one is going to use it against you or judge you for it." Handing the notebook to Crystal, she added "Besides, I have a feeling you do enough self-judging as it is."

While the walls seemed to stop closing in, the young woman still found herself unable to look Jenny in the eye, choosing instead to stare at the black and white marbled cover of the composition book. "You think so, huh Doc?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jenny said softly. Crystal tried not to flinch when she felt the soft pressure of the therapist's hand on her shoulder. "We're going to work on that." Releasing her grasp, Jenny moved back a step. "All right, I can see the trapped rabbit look in your eyes. Read your meditations, write in your journal, and most important of all, do something nice for yourself each day."

Crystal rolled her eyes. Oh yeah, do something nice for myself each day. Keep living in the clouds, Doc. To Jenny she said "Yeah, okay Doc. I'll see you next week."

Screech! Crystal jammed both feet on her brake pedal to avoid rear-ending the truck in front of her. A second later she saw the reason for the sudden stop as a quickly moving delivery person darted between the slow moving traffic. "Oh I hate driving downtown," she said out loud. Screaming guitar chords answered back from the rear speakers. The Omni lacked air conditioning, a must in the late July heat, forcing her to leave the windows down in hopes of a passing breeze. Surrounded by multi-story buildings with mirrored windows, that hope was quickly fading.

Halfway up the next block she saw an open parking space, the first one in over ten minutes. Pulling a paper napkin from the pile wedged between the seat and emergency brake, Crystal wiped the perspiration from her face. "Ah damn." Surrounded by neatly cut grass was a bright yellow fire hydrant, revealing why the curb space was unoccupied. Deciding to take her chances, she jerked the wheel to the right and pulled the hatchback into the parking space. Stretching across the seat, she rolled the windows up to within an inch of the top, hoping the small opening would be enough to keep the interior from becoming a sauna while she was gone.

A large sign affixed to the chain link fencing surrounding the building proclaimed it to be another M. Swenson Construction project. Now the trick is to find Michael, she thought, opening the gate and stepping into the construction area. Piles of debris were everywhere, neatly organized according to material. She saw workers moving about, carrying burnt boards and twisted metal framing. He must be inside somewhere. "Hey lady, this is a hard hat area. You can't be running around in here."

She turned to see a tall man wearing a yellow safety helmet running towards her. "Lady, we're dumping things out the windows and off the roof. You shouldn't be in here."

"I'm looking for Michael Swenson."

"He's inside but you still can't run around without a hard hat." He pointed at the archway leading into the building. "Stand there for now. That way nothing falls on you. I'll be right back." He took off around the corner of the building, returning moments later with a safety helmet in his hand. "Here.

Michael's inside in the back office. Go straight down and take a right. You can't miss him."

"Thank you."

Michael was on the phone when she walked in. "Hold on just a minute, Peter, okay?" He held the phone to his chest. "Well hello there, Miss Sheridan. I'll be right with you." He put the phone back to his ear. "Peter? I'll call you back. Someone just came in. Okay good. Bye." Setting the phone back in its cradle, the large blonde man smiled and stepped around his desk. "And how are you today?"

"Fine thanks and please call me Crystal."

"So what brings you downtown?"

"You said at dinner last week that you were looking for help."

"Well yes but that's just for demolition work. You know, hard manual labor." He looked at her skeptically. "I don't think it's a job suited to you."

Crystal took the hard hat off, confident that nothing would fall on her head while in the office. "It's just hauling stuff out, right? Sheetrock and stuff? Laura said you've hired her before."

"Well, yes I have but this is a great deal of sweat work, Crystal. I don't know if you're suited for it." He pointed at the metal folding chair. "Please, have a seat." He leaned against the desk. "Why would you want to do something like this anyway and more importantly, what happened to your face?"

"Some drunk at the club," she said, answering the latter question first. "And I need the money. I can't work there looking like this."

Michael walked over to the file cabinet and picked up one of the clipboards resting atop it. "I suppose it's only fair to give you a chance," he said. "Fill these out and I need a copy of your social security card and license." He handed her the clipboard, which had several employment forms on it. "I hire by the day, pay by the week. Payday is Monday for the previous week. Ten dollars an hour, half-hour lunch and a ten minute break every hour. I'll issue you a set of gloves and a hat but you'll have to get your own boots. I'm afraid those sneakers just won't do around here."

"That's fine. I can get those today." She filled in the various lines of required information while they talked. "What hours?" "I open the gate at seven and close it at six." He pointed at the time clock affixed to the wall. "The last six digits of your social security number will be your code."

"Um" Crystal paused at question seven on the form. "What if I don't know the answer to every question?"

"Then leave it blank. It's just the highlighted areas that are required anyway," he said, reaching for the coffee pot. "Would you like some?" "Please and it is a highlighted area."

"Cream and sugar? Which part?"

"Both please and it's the part about who to contact in an emergency. Can't I just leave it blank?"

"Don't you have family around here?"

"No."

Michael shrugged. "I dunno. I just put down Peter. Why don't you put down Laura?" He opened the cube shaped mini-refrigerator and pulled out a pint of half-n-half. "I mean, I know you two aren't lovers or anything but you are friends, right? I'm sure if something happened to you she'd want to know about it." He handed her the mug. "Hope I didn't make it too sweet."

Crystal took a sip and shook her head. "No, it's fine. So when can I start?"

"As soon as you show up with work boots, steel toed. My insurance won't let you work without them." He looked at his watch. "It's almost noon. You have to be able to work a minimum of four hours each day so if you can be back here by two, you can work today. Otherwise it'll be tomorrow." He reach over and pulled a business card out of the dispenser. "Here," he said, writing something on the back of the card. "If you go out fifty six toward the airport, there's an outlet store near the old Miller's factory." He handed her the card. "This guy will give you a really good deal, just show him the card."

"Friend of yours?"

"Ex-lover actually but he gives discounts to people I send over." He glanced over at the clipboard. "Almost done?"

"Just about." She pulled her sport wallet out of her pocket. "Here's my license and there's the social security card."

"Good." Michael took the cards over to the copy machine in the corner. "I do expect at least a few days notice before you quit." "Oh, sure. I wouldn't just run out on you," she assured.

"Well, don't make promises until you've actually seen the work." He handed the cards back to her. "I can't count the number of men that have taken this job and quit within a day." He shook his head. "Guess some people are afraid of a little hard work. Well, I have to go check on a few things." He donned his hard hat and removed a walkie-talkie from the charger. "Enjoy your coffee and perhaps I'll see you this afternoon."

As Michael had promised, the manager of the outlet store gave Crystal a discount on the work boots. Coming out of the store with her purchase, she was surprised to hear her name being called. "Crystal, is that you?"

"Hey Steph, how's it going?"

"Oh the usual. Tom's being a jerk and the kids are little monsters but what else is new, eh?" The redhead pointed at the bulge in Crystal's shirt. "Got an extra cig?"