*Trisha*

While visiting everyone at the hospital, I look around for who I really need to talk to. Julia is sleeping, and Nate just got his vitals checked, but  Jeremy is nowhere to be found. I've been dragging my feet, hoping he would show up, but I really want to get outta here soon to start dinner. 

"Am I boring you, princess?" Nate asks, full of sarcasm. I stopped listening to him a few minutes ago while listening to doctors in the hallway trying to see if one was the psychiatrist.

"Sorry. I was hoping  Dr. Donovan would be here. I wanted to talk to him for a minute before I headed out. Do you know when he usually comes back in to check on Julia?" 

Nate suddenly looks on edge, and Jonah looks up from writing in Nate's chart. But he doesn't look at me. His eyes are on Nate.

"What?" I shift my eyes from Nate to Jonah and back to Nate. "Nothing huge. I'm just not sleeping great since the accident and stuff. Thought maybe I could pick his brain on a few things." I explain, but Nate suddenly looks like he's gonna throw up. "I'm fine, Nate... nothing big if that's what you're thinking..."

"No.. um, yeah.." Nate stutters a little. Why the hell is he acting so weird on me? Because I think I may need to to a therapist? I mean. He talks to his all the time. Julia has one. It's normal for me to want to figure my shit out, too.  

"I'm not sure he specializes in sleep disorders." Jonah shrugs.

"He seems really smart. Like REALLY smart. I'm sure he could give me some tips. Plus," I pause. I really didn't want to get into this with them. "I was hoping to maybe set up a few appointments with him to talk about other things, too. Like getting over the accident....being nervous about driving... little stuff like that." I downplay it but now Jonah looks like he may fucking upchuck too. What is everyone's issue with me seeing a therapist?

"He doesn't usually check in until later in the day but I can let him know you were asking, ok?" Nate responds.

"Thank you. Ok, then I'm done with you fools." I joke, making Nate nervously laugh a little. He's so weird today. "After you, hotstuff." I turn and follow Paul out.  

While waiting for the elevator, I spot Jeremy rounding the corner.

"Hey." I stop him. "Just the person I was looking for." 

"Oh?" Jeremy raises an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"Do you have a minute? Nothing huge. I just wanted to ask for a few tips. For myself."

"Of course." He looks around. "Follow me, we'll find an empty room to talk in."

Paul and I follow Dr. Donovan down the hall and to the left where there is a small empty conference room.

"Want me to... or.." Paul isn't sure whether I want him inside the room while we talk or outside guarding the door. It's Jeremy. I trust him. I don't need Paul inside the room.

"Oh, you can wait outside. We'll be quick. I promise." I sit down on the small  leather sofa and Jeremy sits next to me. Once the door is closed we begin talking.

"Soo.. I know you're not technically my therapist. I actually don't currently have one at the moment. I probably should, huh?" I look up at Jeremy.

"Well, you came to the right guy. I could hook you up with one of my colleagues or, I'm still taking new patients if you want to set up an appointment."

"Yeah, maybe. The thing is, God, this is stupid. Nevermind." I second guess myself and stand up. Jeremy takes my hand and looks up at me from where he is sitting. He tugs my hand a little signaling for me to sit down. I do.

Jeremy gives me a warm smile to try to make me more comfortable and doesn't let go of my hand.

"Hey, you can tell me anything you need to. Even if I'm not technically your therapist. You know that, right? It still stays confidential." Jeremy squeezes my hand a little and nods.

"I just don't need Nate worrying about my shit. He has enough going on and his heart can't handle any more. But I think I'm struggling...since the car accident."

"Struggling. Ok. Describe what you mean, Trisha."

I huff, feeling a little embarrassed by this... and Jeremy can sense it. He rubs his thumb against mine while holding my hand to calm my nerves.

"I haven't been able to drive. Paul has been driving me. I tried a few times and...I don't know. I freaked out. And the other day someone cut me off and I froze. Right in the middle of the fucking intersection! I had a panic attack or something. I don't know. That's not normal, is it?"

"You all have been through a lot. It's gonna take time. For now, if you're comfortable having your bodyguard drive you, and he doesn't mind, then let him drive you. It may take awhile for you to heal from such a traumatic experience. But I don't want you to give up trying. Even if you go somewhere secluded and drive around side roads a few times before jumping right back in to a busy intersection."

I look down at his hand holding mine and close my eyes. "It's not just that... I'm having trouble sleeping at night. Seeing the accident play out in my head. I thought by now it would get better, but it hasn't."

"Again. Everything will take time. Would you like to set up a few real sessions with me to talk about things? We could meet here. Or at my office at the Avalon, though I know some people don't like going there for their appointments. Or, I suppose I could set up appointments at your house. Looks like I'm becoming a traveling therapist anyways, having to go to Julia's house when she gets discharged."

I open my eyes and look up at Jeremy. "You'd do that? You're right. The last place I want to go to is the fucking Avalon. Sorry." I shake my head at the f-bomb I just dropped. 

"Of course I would. I'm invested in my patients and only want what's easiest for them. I'd be happy to accommodate you in any way needed, Trisha. That is, if you decide you'd like me to be your therapist. If not, I can give you a few recommendations."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Really. I think this is long overdue. But don't tell Nate. It's just gonna worry him." 

"You got it. Here. Give me your phone. I'll put my personal cell phone number in for you. You can call or text me any time, ok?" He smiles at me and lets go of my hand so I can get my phone out of my purse. I hand it to him and he adds his number.

"There." He hands my phone back.

"Thanks."

Jeremy stands up and looks down at me sitting on the couch.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help." He nods and backs away a little so I can stand up. He walks me out and I suddenly feel relieved.  I'm finally moving in the right direction, getting the help I need for this. I feel good about it.

*****
One thing crossed off the list-  making a therapy appointment.  That's the easy one. The next one, not so easy. Next, I'm meeting with a lawyer to get some information and go over what WOULD happen if the police found Malcolm's next of kin. What would happen if they decided to press charges and if there is a deadline to do so.

Paul drives me across town to the well known office. Brooks & Porter Law Office.

"You can come into the room with me if you want. This shouldn't take long. I just wanna get an idea of what may happen once James wakes up." I  fix the collar on my blazer. "Do I look professional?" I ask while smoothing out my navy blue pencil skirt, tuck my eggshell colored blouse in and adjust my matching navy blazer.

"You really think he's going to wake up? And yes, you always look professional." Paul says while wearing his usual black on black on black attire.

"And you always look like a fucking bodyguard. You know there's other colors besides black."

"I AM a bodyguard and don't care about colors." He huffs and opens the large door to the firm for me.

"May I help you?" The Barbie doll of a receptionist asks behind the front desk without looking up from her computer screen while typing.

"Yes. I have an appointment with Dean Porter."

"Have a seat." She says without giving me the time of day to even make eye contact.

"Why are we here again? What if there is no next of kin? You're making yourself worry over things that may never happen." Paul says and I notice Barbie may not be giving me any attention but she sure as hell is undressing my bodyguard with her eyes. And he doesn't even notice. He never does.

" I just want to be ahead of the game, that's all."

The door opens and a tall, lean, man in his mid forties opens the door. He has dark eyes and salt and pepper hair that is styled perfectly. Ok, so he's hot. But does he have the brains?

"Miss Banks. Nice to meet you." Hottie flashes me a perfectly white smile that makes me want to drop everything and  pull him into  closet and  have my way with him.

Brains, Trisha, I need his brains not his body.

"You as well, this is my bodyguard, Paul." I nod.

"Bodyguard...?" Dean keeps his eyes on me while shaking Paul's hand.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. I'm Nate Hollan's Personal Assistant." I state, hoping that's all he needs to hear and drops the topic all together.

"Right, of course. Follow me."

Once in Dean Porter's immaculate office he nods for us to sit in the two leather chairs across from his desk. He pulls at his tie a little and sits down as well, folding his hands on his desk.

"So, what can I do for you, Miss Banks."

 I get right into it. I tell him I'm here advocating for a friend. A friend in a coma. I pull out  my copy of the police report from my folder, and ask what we could possibly be in for, moving forward.

Dean leans back in his chair while listening to me talk and takes it all in.

"Wow. Ok. I did hear about this on the news. I didn't realize all it entailed though. I'm glad you are ok and sorry to hear about your friend." He sits up and swivels his chair to the computer to the right of him. "Lets see.. this is a very tricky case, seeing as Mr. Gallo is unconscious." Dean types away and then starts reading from the computer as I patiently wait.

"Ok, well. The statute of limitations for filing charges or pursuing compensation for a car accident  that caused a death seems to vary by state. Here, the deadline for filing a wrongful death claim is two years but there are many exceptions, Miss Banks. It's important to be aware of these timelines, especially if the  family considers legal action." He turns and makes eye contact with me before  scrolling the computer more. 

Dean's eyes narrow at whatever he is reading and I suddenly start to feel nervous. He swallows hard before looking at me.

" This case... this case may not end the way you'd like it to. When a car accident results in a death, the driver may face criminal charges."

"Seriously?? He doesn't even have a record!" I blurt out, now feeling on edge. 

Dean takes a deep breath before continuing. 

"The criminal charges could consist of vehicular manslaughter or homicide by vehicle."

Oh my God.

 I can feel all the color drain from my face and have a feeling Paul feels the same way hearing this.

"These charges may be brought if the driver was at fault due to gross negligence such as.." He turns back to the computer and takes another deep breath. " reckless driving, speeding, violating traffic laws.. so on and so forth. The charge may be a misdemeanor or a felony charge depending on the circumstances."

"A felony charge... This was one mistake made because he was tired from working too many hours..." I rub my forehead  with my now clammy hands.

"Miss Banks. If the family pursues this, a felony conviction may result in a jail sentence of one year to life, as well as a permanent criminal record. If the driver loses the case, the victim's family may be able to file a wrongful death lawsuit and claim assets from the driver, such as their home or bank accounts."

 I bolt up out of my  seat and begin pacing while holding my forehead. Paul pinches the tension at the bridge of his nose hearing this.

"Oh my God! This can't be for real! It was ONE mistake."

"That cost someone their life." He reminds me.  This is NOT the news I wanted to hear.

"So.. you're telling me if Malcolm's family  presses charges, James could go to jail?!  For a felony?"

*****