Hold Us Close (Keep Me Still) by Caisey Quinn

mostly it stays calm, pushing and pulling with the current. Closing my eyes, I imagine that I can hear it. An image of Layla splashing me in the water and laughing on one of our many trips to the beach washes over me. It’s been so damn long since I’ve seen her truly happy. Since I’ve made her laugh.
    I just want to make her happy. I’ll do anything. Everything.
    I open my eyes and look around the small room. God I hope this works.

    A s my first session with Dr. Sanderson is ending, I make the request I’ve been wanting to make since I walked through the door to her office. “Can I ask you something? Something kind of off-topic?”
    “Sure, I guess so.”
    I pull the folded envelope from my back pocket. “Do you know a Dr. Clayton Kirkowitz? He’s a neurosurgeon.”
    Dr. Sanderson nods. “I’ve heard of him. All good things. Why?”
    “Um, I have something for him.” My hands are shaking, rattling the envelope that holds the words that poured straight from my soul onto paper. “I was wondering if you could pass it along.”
    The doctor looks apprehensive as she takes it. “It’s not a death threat or anything, is it?”
    I can’t help but smile. Shaking my head, I raise an eyebrow at her. “Do I really come off as that out of control?”
    Relief hits me when she smiles back. “Permission to read what’s in here to be sure?”
    I swallow hard and nod. “Sure.”
    “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
    “That’s all I can ask.”

    B ecause apparently these types of places enjoy torturing their patients, every Sunday is Family Day. Odds are most of us are in here because of our families. So yeah, let’s please take a day to celebrate that.
    I don’t tell Layla about it because she doesn’t need the stress of a trip here. Her medical condition and pregnancy are enough to deal with. And because she’s the only person I actually consider my family, I’m shocked on my second to last Sunday when there’s a knock at my door.
    “You have a visitor, O’Brien,” a male voice calls out from the other side.
    Shaking my head, because I should’ve known she’d find out and show up, I pull the door open. “You didn’t have to—”
    “Landen,” my mom greets me. “I know you weren’t expecting me.”
    I clear my throat and stare at her. Her dark hair is cut shorter than I ever remember her wearing it, and there are flecks of gray in it. “No. No, I wasn’t.” My lungs seem to want to breathe a little harder and my heart pounds into my ribs with a vengeance. “What are you doing here?”
    “It’s Family Day,” she says, as if that makes everything perfectly okay.
    “Right. But since our family was pretty much based on bullshit, and I’m a grown man now, I was hoping we could stop pretending.”
    She doesn’t even flinch at my words. “I knew you’d be angry. And I get that. But your doctor said we could use a conference room and there’s someone I want you to talk to.”
    From the way she says someone , I know exactly who she means. “No. Hell no. I’ve heard everything I need to hear. From both of you.”
    Instead of yelling, the preferred method of disagreement for The Colonel and I, my mom stares me down with folded arms. “You’re here to get help, right? So you won’t end up being the kind of father he was? I can’t imagine a better person to give you advice about how not to be like him than him. Can you?”
    “I don’t want his fucking advice.”
    She sighs and lowers her arms. “Landen, you’re still angry. And you’re angry because of him. Or because of me. Or both. But either way, we’re all a part of this. You can face the source of your anger head on or I can take a cab back to the airport and you can go it alone. But I would really like—”
    Shit. Her voice breaks and she’s crying. I clench my jaw in an attempt to remain unaffected.
    “—a chance to know my grandchild. Please,” she finishes.
    “If either one of you lies to me, about anything, I’m