There were time-marking conversational exchanges about school, the hot rod, and life in general. There was the pause while each sized the other up.
Then, "I'm glad you dropped in, Fred," Dr. Gaard smiled casually.
"I'm all mixed up," Fred said. "I know something's wrong with me. I wanted someone to talk to, now that Dad is gone. I thought of you. I didn't want to bother Mom. Do you really straighten out crazy people?"
"Not exactly," Curt chuckled. "A psychologist finds most of his patients among people who are just upset about things. They aren't insane. They just need someone who has experience to help them get their thoughts straightened out."
"Maybe that's all I need," Fred said. "I don't think I'm crazy."
"Of course you aren't. You're a very healthy-minded young man."
"I don't want Mom to know about this...."
Curt frowned, jotted something down on a notepad. It was, Fred guessed, a notation to call his mother and warn her to keep quiet.
"Don't worry about your mother. Now tell me, just what seems to be the trouble?" Curt smiled encouragingly.
"Are you married?" Fred asked with teen-age frankness.