An Abundant Woman

by Elizabeth Neff Walker

  “No.” Being out the whole evening wasn't what I wanted, but she seemed so eager, with almost a note of entreaty in her voice, that I agreed. “Let me just run upstairs to freshen up. Okay?"

  Jack didn't answer my knock. From my window I noticed that he was in the garden, so I slipped a note under his door explaining where I was going. When I rejoined Angel, she held the passenger door open for me and I climbed in. After she had seated herself, fastened her seatbelt and put the car in reverse, she turned to me and said, “I really need to talk to someone about Cliff, Amanda. I hope you won't mind."

  Naturally talking with other women about their marital problems is difficult for me, considering my own. But since Angel needed someone to talk to, my curiosity was aroused and my wish to be of help ignited. “Of course I won't mind,” I assured her.

  She flashed a smile at me as she headed toward University Avenue. “It's so difficult for me to confide in anyone here, especially my family. They're very supportive, but this is something I can't drop on them. It would color their view of Cliff, and I don't want that."

  I was instantly alert. “You'd better tell me what the problem is first, so I understand what you're talking about. Why, for instance, would their view of Cliff be colored?"

  “I suspect that Cliff is having an affair."

  “Cliff? But my dear young woman, it's perfectly obvious that he's dotty about you."

  “Well, yes,” she agreed, flashing me an ironic glance, “I think he is. But he's feeling so trapped here that he needs an outlet to release his spleen. You see, Amanda, coming to Wisconsin was a real sacrifice for Cliff. He loved being at Fielding, being in San Francisco, living in his delightful house."

  “So why did he come?"

  Angel grimaced. “Because he wanted to prove to me that he was capable of compromise, that he didn't consider his own career more important than mine, or his wishes more significant. It was how he managed to win me over to marrying him. I loved him, but he seemed such a sexist that I didn't think there was any way we could live together."

  “And now you think he's getting back at you by sleeping with another woman?"

  “Not exactly getting back at me.” She rubbed her forehead, frowning. “It's not as simple as that. As I said, Cliff is feeling trapped. I think he believed having Mayfield House would make him feel more in control of his life again. And it did, for a while. But it hasn't solved anything. He's still in Wisconsin and that's not where he wants to be."

  “Well, for God's sake, probably half the people in the world are somewhere they'd rather not be,” I said, exasperated. “It seems to me the man wants everything, without being able to see how difficult he's making life for you."

  She regarded me warily before the light turned green and she had to pay attention to traffic. “But he thinks I have everything. I'm married to him, I'm living near my family in Wisconsin, I'm practicing where I want to—out in the boonies, and I have an adorable baby. What more could I want?"

  “Cliff isn't stupid."

  “No, but he has a limited ability to envision things through someone else's eyes. I knew that when I married him. He has a lot of wonderful qualities, but that isn't one of them."

  Cliff was a charming man. He was a handsome man. He had a good sense of humor and a sharp mind and real surgical talent. He was also, I felt certain, deeply in love with his wife. That didn't mean he could understand how she felt.

  “But what makes you think he's having an affair?"

  “Oh, little things. Sometimes he isn't in when I call Mayfield House late. Once I found a notepad on the passenger seat of his car. It had very feminine writing in it and when I asked he shrugged and said, ‘It must be Claire's. I gave her a ride home the other day.’ Claire is a very sharp, and very pretty, woman in medical records at the University."

  Angel's face flushed slightly. “And he's not as interested in sex. His desire used to outstrip mine, and now it's almost the other way around. Cliff, who's just about the sexiest man on earth."

  I decided I'd skip that subject if at all possible. “None of those things adds up to an affair, Angel."

  “I know. But there's something the matter."

  “Have you asked him if he has some problem?"

  “Sure, and he just blows me off. Would it be like spying if I asked you if you've ever seen him with a woman?"

  That made me laugh. “My dear, I'd be glad to be a spy in a good cause, but I haven't seen him with a woman, and I don't expect that I will. Angel, he's not that kind of man. At least I don't think so."

  “Every man is capable of infidelity."

  Angel hardly seemed the cynical type, and I touched her arm as she managed to squeeze the car into a small parking space. “Every man and every woman is undoubtedly capable of it, but that doesn't mean they'll necessarily be tempted to do it, or accept the guilt of doing it. Cliff is very proud of you and his son. And he's proud of his own integrity. It would take a lot more than being stuck in Wisconsin—which I, by the way, am finding quite delightful—to tempt him to break his marriage vows and disrupt his life with you. I sincerely believe that, Angel."

  She stared at her hands on the steering wheel. “Then what is it, Amanda? He was so excited when Roger was born. But for the last few months he's been restless and on edge. We try to get away, but his work interferes, or mine does, or we can't find someone to stay with Roger. I don't know what more I can do."

  “Perhaps that's the problem,” I said briskly as I pushed open my door. “You're doing too much."

  “Beg pardon?” Angel climbed out and locked the car, looking at me over the top. “I have to do this much. Cliff can't seem to manage. He's all thumbs with Roger, and always overestimating what a child that age is capable of. Cliff hates organizing and can't seem to handle the least detail of family life without screwing things up. I'd love to have him take more responsibility, but he refuses."

  I gave her my “doctor-in-charge” steely look. “Don't let him refuse. Part of his restlessness is that he feels helpless, and he's not going to feel capable until you force him to be. I know you shouldn't have to do that, Angel. It's just one more burden for you, but in the long run it pays off. I had to do it, most of my friends had to do it, and I think you'll have to do it, too."

  She sighed and tucked her purse under her arm. “You know what I picture? I picture making Cliff responsible for picking up Roger from the sitter and he gets tied up at the hospital and doesn't remember to call and the babysitter has to be somewhere, so Cliff permanently screws up an arrangement that I've worked really hard on."

  “The more responsible he becomes for the child, the more it will be impossible for him to let things like that happen.” I fell into step beside her walking down the sidewalk toward the gallery. “I had some very touchy moments with Nigel when Cass was small. He assumed the baby was basically my responsibility, and I had to teach him that simply wouldn't work. In the long run he was glad, Angel, and Cliff will be, too."

  “Maybe.” She paused before we reached the cheerily lighted entrance of the photography opening. “There's one other thing. He wants me to have another baby."

  After the various tensions of my day, I simply couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. And, as serious as the matter was, Angel saw the ludicrousness of a husband who couldn't even help with one child insisting on another, and started to shake with amusement. Eventually we stood like two idiots on the sidewalk, howling with the absurdity of it all.

  * * * *

  There was a light on in Cliff's room when Angel brought me back to Mayfield House. She thanked me for coming with her as we entered the building and let herself into his suite, closing the door instantly behind herself.

  We had stayed out a long time, lingering over our meal at the French restaurant. The advice I could give her was simple, and extremely difficult to put into practice. But Angel was a determined woman, a woman deeply in love, and she absorbed it all. If it felt a little hypocritical to be giving marital advice, at l
east what I had to offer was from my own past experience. I would have been loath to tackle more current issues.

  The living room and telly room were deserted, so I climbed the stairs to the second floor. No light showed under Jack's door across the hall from my unit. Nevertheless, I went to stand there, listening for the sounds of movement. The silence was complete, so I knocked very lightly, not enough to awaken him if he'd already fallen asleep. When he didn't respond, I went across to my temporary home and turned in for the night.

  Angel was long gone by the time I arrived at breakfast the next morning. Cliff was already at the table, and he regarded me suspiciously, but he only said good morning. Jack came down a few minutes later, looking better than he had the night before, but still a little tense. As usual he took a seat beside me.

  “Did you and Angel have a good time?” he asked as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

  “Delightful. The photography opening was fascinating and the meal was delicious.” I didn't want to say anything the others would understand about his difficulties, so I added, “We got back a little late."

  “You certainly did,” Cliff muttered. “I thought you'd had an accident or something."

  “Isn't that sweet?” My tone was unreservedly mocking. This from the man who'd stood his wife up and wasn't pulling down his weight in the family. “I'm surprised you didn't come out looking for us."

  “I almost did,” he retorted. A brief look passed between him and Jack, and then he commented, “And I would have if you'd been any later. Or at least I'd have called the restaurant."

  “If you'd remembered what restaurant we were going to."

  Cliff's hand paused in pouring milk over his Cream of Wheat. “Of course I remember. Angel had it all arranged. We were going to L'Etoile, or maybe the Ivy Inn. I don't think Angel ever told me which. But I'd have called both."

  “He's a charmer, isn't he?” I asked Jack.

  Jack shook his head in wonder, at my audacity I suppose, but said, “You shouldn't hold Cliff entirely responsible. I got him talking and the time passed before we knew it."

  That put an entirely different light on the matter. Cliff had obviously acted as confidante to Jack and been supportive of him, which had apparently done Jack a lot of good. On the other hand, I couldn't help but wish I'd been the one who lifted his spirits and underpinned his self-confidence.

  Cliff had raised a brow at me, as though I should be impressed by this pass, and I smiled wryly at him. “All right. I suppose that's understandable. But I still detect a trace of passive-aggressive behavior tucked somewhere in here."

  “Hey, I don't have a drop of passive-aggressive blood in my whole body,” Cliff protested. “It was an emergency, and I was the only one who could handle it."

  “Strange how that happens,” I murmured. “In such a large university medical center, too. You'd think there would be any number of people to handle emergencies. Maybe your American system isn't designed as well as ours to manage crises."

  Cliff glowered at me, not wishing to consider the possibility that our English system fared better than his (since it probably didn't), but unwilling to retract his statement that only he could have dealt with the situation. In actual fact, Angel and I knew that in all probability he could have gotten away if he'd really wanted to, but his need to be indispensable was strong, especially in this unfamiliar world of Wisconsin.

  “I think the best policy here is silence, Cliff,” Jack advised. “Amanda is very good at this sort of verbal skirmish, and I'd hate to see you dealt a punishing blow. She's still annoyed with you for suggesting that I take her to Oconomowoc."

  The others at the table weren't paying much attention to our conversation up until that point, but Crissy Newman, from the attic, frowned at this. “Sometimes I think men are totally insensitive to a woman's situation,” she said to the table at large. “You may think things have changed so massively that a woman doesn't need to protect her reputation these days, but it's not necessarily true."

  Mark, of course, disagreed with her, and Cliff allowed them to bicker for the duration of his meal because he wasn't especially keen on challenging me. Not that he thought I could best him. Heaven forefend. But because I might just bring up some uncomfortable truth that he'd rather not face at that hour, or any hour.

  When Jack was lifting the purple bike down from its rack for me, he said, “You know, Mandy, Cliff's not as bad as you seem to think he is."

  “Cliff is charming. He just needs a little help in figuring out how to be a decent husband and father.” I turned to meet Jack's gaze. “I'm glad if he was helpful to you last night."

  Jack sighed. “He was, in some ways—the macho ‘You-can-do-it-because-you're-really-good’ ways. He assured me that everyone has disasters. Maybe I needed that. But you wouldn't have handled it that way."

  My heart pounded uncomfortably. “How would I have handled it?"

  He handed me my helmet and stood looking down at his own. “You'd have let me grieve. You wouldn't have tried to jolly me along. You'd have sat with me, just been there for me. You wouldn't have talked much and you wouldn't have tried to hurry up the healing process."

  “That's what you would have wanted me to do. I'm not sure I'd have been able to."

  Jack looked directly into my eyes. “Oh, you would have, Mandy. That's the kind of person you are."

  “But I wasn't there for you,” I pointed out, feeling a little sick at heart. “I could have stayed and done those things. Did I misunderstand? I thought you wanted to be alone."

  “I did. Until I was alone up there in my room. Then I wanted you to be with me."

  We were moving now, pushing our bicycles out into the morning sunshine, the grass still wet with dew. Jack's deep blue eyes held a hint of humor. “You'd have slept with me,” he said. “To comfort me."

  “Yes, I know I would. Is that what you wanted?"

  He lifted one shoulder dismissively. “Just for a while I did. But then Cliff came along, trying to find out where you and Angel had gone, and he'd heard about my patient, and we talked. He was very encouraging, very sympathetic, but also very much the proud surgeon. He thinks it's weakness to entertain feelings of helplessness or sadness. To him keeping those emotions at bay is part of the image."

  “Which is one of the reasons patients think doctors are such jerks.” We were about to climb on our bikes but I wanted to say one more thing before we weren't able to hold a decent conversation. “I'm glad you feel all those things, Jack. I hope you'll let me try to help you."

  “Count on it,” he said, reaching out to tuck a wisp of my hair under the helmet. “But it won't be by sleeping with me, Mandy. That wouldn't be fair to either of us."

  Oh, I don't know, I thought as we pedaled down the hill and turned the corner. He looked so solid there in front of me. But his wiry hair curled down on his neck, making him look oddly vulnerable. He was right: if I'd stayed home the previous night we would most likely have become lovers. I had no objections to comforting him physically. Too bad he was too honorable to take advantage of me.

  But having a lover wasn't exactly what Jack needed right now. He needed someone solidly supporting him, preferably making no emotional demands. Unlike Cliff, he didn't shy from emotions, but he was currently overloaded. My own needs, for the time being, would have to be put aside so that I could concentrate on helping Jack regain his equilibrium.

  Just as we reached the bicycle-parking area, Jack was hailed by a colleague. “He's going to help you with your stiff upper lip,” I teased, locking my purple vehicle to the metal rack. “It's done wonders for the British."

  “You'll have to tell me about that,” he said. “See you later, Mandy."

  Then he allowed me to wander off so his fellow neurosurgeon could engage him in uplifting dialogue.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It wasn't Jack but Cliff I found waiting for me in the living room when I came home. I could tell he'd been waiting for me because as soon as I closed the
front door he trotted over and offered me a glass of sherry “in his room.” Since there was no way this was a come-on, it was obviously his way of obtaining a private chat with me. I shrugged and followed him.

  Unlike most of us, his living area was spacious to the point of looking almost spartan with his few furnishings. The turret part of the room had nothing in it but a window seat, and there was a simple burgundy-colored sofa with two matching overstuffed chairs. He waved me to one of the chairs and ask, “Dry or sweet sherry?"

  “Dry, please."

  Either he always had a tray set up with two glasses and several bottles of sherry, or he'd prepared for me, and I suspected the latter. As he poured the drinks, he frowned in concentration, wild eyebrows bristling above his eyes. It was easy to imagine him being intimidating to residents and even patients if he forgot to display his ready charm and intense interest.

  As he handed me my glass he said, “Angel's annoyed with me and I think it's your fault."

  “Do you?” I laughed, genuinely amused. “You'd rather blame anyone than yourself, wouldn't you, Cliff?"

  He took the chair opposite me and glowered at me in his most formidable manner. “Talking to you seems to bring out the worst in her. You must egg her on to push for changes. Most of the time she's not like that."

  “Most of the time she's probably too tired to do anything but give in to you, Cliff."

  “On what?” he demanded, looking perplexed. “What do I do that's so wrong?"

  The sherry was very good, and I was particularly fond of sherry. I took another sip, gathering my thoughts together. “We discussed this some time ago. You don't do your share of the child care. You don't take any responsibility for organizing a very demanding schedule for your family. You expect your wife to handle everything."

  “She's good at it."