Mindbend

Noises drifted up the back stairs from the kitchen, suggesting that Larry was already making himself something to eat. Not bothering to come and say hello added insult to injury. Laura lifted her legs off the hassock, wiggled her toes into her sandals, and stood up. Walking over to a gilt frame mirror, she peered at herself. For fifty-six she looked pretty darn good. But over the last eight weeks Larry had shown absolutely no sexual interest in her. Could that be the reason for his new burst of professional enthusiasm? It had taken Larry and Clark Vandermer twenty years to build their practice to the point where they could concentrate on gynecology rather than obstetrics. And then Larry had thrown it all away. After coming back from that medical meeting, he’d calmly announced that he’d quit GYN Associates and had accepted a salaried position at the Julian Clinic. At the time Laura had been so stupefied that she’d been unable to respond. And since joining the Julian Clinic, Larry had been taking on more obstetrical cases, even though he got the same salary no matter how hard he worked.

A crash interrupted Laura’s thoughts. That was another problem. Larry had become clumsy of late, as well as having lapses of attention. Laura wondered if he were on the verge of some sort of breakdown.

Deciding that it was time to confront her husband, Laua straightened her robe and started down the back stairs.

Ginger followed at her heels.

She found Larry at the kitchen counter, eating a large sandwich and reading a medical journal. He’d taken off his jacket and had thrown it over the back of a chair. When he heard her enter, he looked up. His face had that curious slackness it had developed in recent weeks.

“Hello, dear,” he said in a flat tone.

Laura stood at the foot of the stairs, allowing her anger to build. Her husband looked at her for a moment, then went back to his journal.

“Why didn’t you call?” snapped Laura, infuriated by his attempt to ignore her.

Larry raised his head slowly and turned to face his wife.

He didn’t speak.

“I asked you a question,” said Laura. “I deserve an answer. I’ve asked you a dozen times to call me if you are going to be late.”

Larry didn’t move.

“Did you hear me?” Laura stepped closer and looked into her husband’s eyes. The pupils were large, and he seemed to be looking right through her.

“Hey,” said Laura, waving her hand in front of his face.

“Remember me? I’m your wife.”

Larry’s pupils constricted and he blinked as if he had just noticed her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he said. “We decided to open an evening clinic for the neighborhood around the Julian and the response was better than we’d anticipated.”

“Larry, what is wrong with you? You mean to tell me that you stayed until after nine o’clock to man a free clinic?”

“Nothing is wrong with me. I feel fine. I enjoyed myself.

I picked up three cases of unsuspected VD.”

“Wonderful,” said Laura, throwing up her hands and sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs. She stared at Larry and took an exasperated breath. “We have to talk. Something weird is going on. Either you are going crazy or I am.”

“I feel fine,” said Larry.

“You might feel fine, but you are acting like a different person. You seem tired all the time, as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. This whole idea of giving up your practice is insane. I’m sorry, but it is crazy to give up what has taken you a lifetime to build.”

“I’m tired of fee-for-service private practice,” said Larry. “The Julian Clinic is more exciting and I’m able to help more people.”

“That’s all well and good,” said Laura, “but the problem is that you have a family. You have a son and daughter in college and a daughter in medical school. I don’t have to tell you how much their tuition is. And keeping up this ridiculous house that you insisted on buying ten years ago costs a fortune. We don’t need thirty rooms, particularly now that the children are gone. The salary you’re on at the Julian Clinic barely keeps us in groceries, much less covers our commitments.”

“We can sell the house,” said Larry flatly.

“Yes, we can sell the house,” repeated Laura. “But the kids are in school and unfortunately we have little savings.

Larry, you have to go back to GYN Associates.”

“I gave up my partnership,” said Larry.

“Clark Vandermer will give it back,” said Laura. “You’ve known him long enough. Tell him you made a mistake. If you want to change your professional circumstances, you should at least wait until after the children’s schooling is complete.”

Laura stopped talking and watched her husband’s face. It was as if it were carved from stone. “Larry,” she called.

There was no response.

Laura got up and waved her hand in front of her husband’s face. He didn’t move. He seemed to be in a trance. “Larry,”

she yelled as she shook his shoulders. His body was strangely stiff. Then his eyes blinked and looked into hers.

“Larry, are you aware that you seem to blank out?” She kept her hands on his shoulders while she studied his face.

“No,” said Larry. “I feel fine.”