Page 28 of The Magic We Made

Francesca does something extraordinary in response to this, something I’ve never seen her do before in the year or so since I’ve been sort of spying on her: she laughs.

“Yes,” she says. “That sounds like Richard. He was always pretty protective of his lawn.”

I have to look at her then, even though Francesca Giovanni laughing while sitting so close to me in those cutoffs might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“It’s half your lawn, too,” I manage to remind her through the sudden frog in my throat.

“Not anymore. It’s all mine now.” There’s no ruefulness in her voice, only deep satisfaction, and maybe even a little pride.

So she’s glad Dr. Dick is gone! I clear my throat. “Well, that’s good. You’re doing a much better job with it than he ever did.”

This produces another laugh from her. “Do you think so? I’m afraid not many would agree.”

“Well, I like the outdoors, but I prefer it in its natural state. You know, untamed, kind of wild.”

“I see. Tell me more about these superpowers of yours. You think you have more than one? What are they again... a cat whisperer, and what was that other one? You find lost things?”

“No.” I can’t help grinning. So she’s in work mode. I’m loving this. “Lost things find me.”

“And how long have you felt that lost things find you?”

“My whole life. I told you; it’s my superpower. Everyone has one.”

“A superpower?”

“Yeah.

I know what she’s trying to do: analyze me. I’ve met therapists before—you can’t avoid them when you’re raised in a family like mine—and they’re all the same: they want to peel you like an onion, then label all the layers.

Only I don’t like labels.

“So do you think you’re a superhero?”

I grin at her some more. I hate therapy, but this is kind of fun. “Yes. That’s why I keep a cape and police scanner with me at all times.”

“I see. Are they with you now?”

When I burst out laughing, she looks puzzled. “What’s so funny?”

“You!” I’m crowing. “You.”

“So... you don’t have a cape?”

“No. I’m a financial advisor for a family-owned charitable trust. I don’t have a cape or a police scanner. I do have superpowers, though. You do, too.”

“Do I?” She raises a single questioning eyebrow.

“Sure. Everybody does. You should know that; you’re a therapist. It’s your job to help people figure out what their superpower is.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, because most people don’t know. We’ve all got a little magical gift inside of us, something we love and can do well, but it can sometimes take a lifetime to discover it, let alone trust that it’s real.”

“Are you talking about the Japanese concept ofikigai?” She’s looking at me curiously. Her gaze looks darker—and softer—than ever. “Our reason for being? What the French callraison d’être?”

“Reason for being! Yes, that’s it. Hey, your French accent is pretty good—”

“Thanks.” She doesn’t smile at the compliment. “But I wouldn’t describe my job as helping people figure out what their, um, superpower is. A therapist’s main goal is to help patients get to know themselves better and understand how their past influencesthe present. Insight-oriented psychotherapy facilitates introspection and deep self-reflection, leading to understanding and, ultimately, behavior change.”