"Yes, isn't it?" she pursued, her eyes a bit smaller. "Maybe it will give you the opportunity to spend more time with your other patients now," she suggested with a cold, calculating smile that went right to my heart.
"Maybe," I said. nodding, "I'll look into it."
She held her eves on me and then she tamed and left the office.
Later. when Grace appeared for her session with me. I saw Nadine Gordon in the hallway. She didn't look away when I looked at her. Grace walked in and I stood there in the doorway exchanging this inquisitive glance with my head nurse. She gave me a small nod and left. I closed the door and turned to Grace.
"How are you?" I asked her.
She answered by rising on the balls of her feet to kiss me softly on the lips.
And then she smiled and said. "I wanted to be sure it wasn't all a dream."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she said.
"How?"
"From the look on your face." she replied, and I laughed and reached out to embrace her.
We held on to each other like two castaways who had found a welcoming shore and knew we would never be alone again.
Later that day my receptionist Edith Hamilton buzzed me in my office to tell me Alberta absolutely insisted I pick up the phone. It mattered not whether I was in a session with a patient or not I could tell Alberta had flustered Edith because she kept apologizing for interrupting me. I told Edith it was fine and had her pass Alberta's call through.
"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.
"Wrong? Why don't you ask what's right for a change? Must all you psychiatrists always look to the dark side of things?"
"I'm sorry, Alberta. My receptionist said--"
"That woman was rude to me, When I call your precious clinic, they should be told it's important and I'm not to hear any 'Can I have him call you back?' Or 'He's with a patient."'
"Sometimes it is very important not to be interrupted. Alberta," I said calmly. "Okay. Why are you calling with such urgency?"
"It's not urgency, Claude. It's elation, something you're not accustomed to seeing over there in your inner sanctum and halls of misery."
"Elation?"
"I was elected," she declared. "You're speaking to the new president of the Woman's Club."
"Oh. Congratulations. Alberta, That's very nice," I said.
"Nice? Nice? Why is it you always have the perfect words for your mentally disturbed patients and their families, but not for me? Nice? It's more than just nice. Claude."
"I didn't mean it was just nice, Alberta. I meant it was nice that they appreciate you and your great efforts to make the organization a success." I said.
She was satisfied with that. "Well?" she added.
"Well, what?"
"How do you intend to celebrate this with me?"
"Oh. Well, why don't we go to the Hideaway?" I said. It was the restaurant we had gone to on three previous wedding anniversaries.
"Yes, that would be appropriate." she replied. "I'm surprised you came up with it. Very good. Claude. You might make the husband of a president yet." she added with a light laugh attached. "Go back to your depressing activities and save all your buoyancy and joy for me." she commanded.
If she only knew, I thought, where I had invested all my so-called buoyancy and joy.