“Alex, you’re too tense to drive,” Seth said. “Do you want me to transfer Jon’s car seat to my car or take yours?”
“Good idea,” Alex said, appreciative of his compassion.
They got into her car and talked about a few patients’ histories and treatment plans until they arrived at the older boys’ middle school.
Daniel rushed to the car, leaned forward, and kissed Alex’s cheek.
Eric glanced around, then gave Alex a peck on the cheek. “Why’s he driving your car?”
“My car has Jon’s car seat,” Alex said, deflecting the fact that she was too tense to drive. “How was school?”
“Fine,” Eric said.
Daniel launched into an animated overview of the student council meeting.
A few minutes later, they stopped to pick Jon up from his nursery school. Before Alex could sign him out, she had to show her driver’s license to the teacher’s aide. Then Seth had to co-sign. This “security measure,” at the court’s insistence, felt intrusive and demeaning.
Jon’s eyes twinkled when he saw her. He wrapped his arms around her legs, and then he took her hand as they walked to the car.
She belted Jon into his car seat.
“Why do we have to go to this psycho thing?” Eric asked.
“Your dad arranged it,” she said, although she wished she could drive home with the boys and pretend they were a normal family. “Saturday, we’ll pick you guys up, and it’ll be fun. We’ll have a real family day.”
“How can it be, without the dad?” Jon asked quizzically, head tilted to one side and eyebrows elevated, as though his expression would help him solve grown-up issues.
“Jon, when you go to your dad’s house, there’s no mom,” Alex reminded him.
“Unh-unh.” Jon shook his head. “Dad said Linda’s the mom of his house.”
She felt a sharp jab in her gut. How could Gabe have dared to tell the children that?
“I told you, Linda’s not our mom.” Daniel turned to Jon and gently put his finger on Jon’s lips, but it was too late.
Alex had heard Jon say Linda was “the mom.” That was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she had to stay focused for the meeting with the forensic psychiatrist. “We’re at the doctor’s office,” she said. “Everybody out.”
“I don’t want a shot,” Jon whimpered.
Alex tousled Jon’s curly hair. “Don’t worry. Dr. Weisbarth is a talking doctor, so no shots.”
“Chin up.” Seth leaned close, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’m here for you.”
They all trooped into the building and approached the elevator.
“I wanna push all the numbers,” Jon announced.
“Here.” Seth gently took Jon’s hand and guided his fingers to number three.
When they reached Dr. Weisbarth’s office, Daniel studied the nameplate on the door. “What’s a forensic psychiatrist?”
“He analyzes people and tells the lawyers what he thinks is in the best interests of the parties,” Alex explained, although she really wanted to tell him she thought Dr. Weisbarth was, in reality, someone Gabe had paid to document her incompetence as a mother.
Seth opened the door for them, nodded at Gabe, and waited for Alex and the boys to enter. Then he shut the office door and took a seat in the reception area.
Jon ran and jumped onto Gabe’s lap.
“Just got here myself.” Gabe hugged Jon and motioned for Eric to sit beside him.
Daniel glanced at Alex before he sat down on the other side of his father.
Watching the boys surround Gabe, she wanted to lash out and chastise him for making the family crumble to the point where they needed a psychiatrist to assess their love. Instead, she fought to stay calm. She looked away and saw the window to the receptionist area was closed and, surprisingly, there was no receptionist.
Dr. Weisbarth emerged from his private office and stepped into the waiting room. Elegant—an odd description for a man, but that was how he appeared—he was tall and lithe, with wavy silver hair.
“Gabriel,” Dr. Weisbarth said, shaking hands with a familiarity that shocked Alex.
“Norm,” Gabe said, returning the greeting.
The forensic psychiatrist shook Eric’s hand, then Daniel’s. “Hi, little fellow,” he said, smiling down at Jon. He turned to Alex. “And you must be Mrs. Rose.” As he extended his right hand, the monogrammed shirt cuff peeked out from his perfectly tailored navy-blue, double-breasted jacket.
Determined to appear confident, Alex greeted the doctor. She stared at the “NRW” on his shirt cuff and then looked up and met Dr. Norman R. Weisbarth’s gaze.
He took her right hand in his and covered it with his left, a solicitous gesture that made her stomach churn. “This way, please,” he said, leading them to his office. “My office girls get Friday afternoons off since I only see a few cases then. Gabe, as you know, some days, I’m so booked they can’t even take a lunch break.”
They all walked down the hallway.
Dr. Weisbarth stopped, turned, and looked at Seth. “I’m assuming you’re the monitor.” Without waiting for an answer, he instructed: “You can wait outside until we’re finished.”
Dr. Weisbarth continued to his office, and the boys followed, single file.
Alex and Gabe paused at the doorway, glared at each other, and then went into the room.
“Why don’t you boys sit there?” Dr. Weisbarth directed the three boys to the couch and strode behind his desk. Then he motioned to the lone overstuffed chair positioned diagonally opposite his desk. “Gabe, you can sit there.”
Gabe nodded.
Dr. Weisbarth glanced around the office and asked, “Mrs. Rose, where would you like to sit?”
Feeling like an appendage in this otherwise perfect arrangement of males, Alex joined her sons on the couch. Crooking her neck, she looked at the photos adorning the doctor’s huge mahogany desk: a glamour shot of a woman who resembled Gabe’s fiancée, Linda, was framed in Waterford crystal. The other framed photos displayed smiling children.
Was it possible that Dr. Weisbarth was married to Linda’s sister? Her attorney had told her Gabe’s attorney played golf with the judge every Sunday at Rancho Santa Margarita, but she didn’t think Gabe would do anything as risky as hiring a psychiatrist who was related to his fiancée.
The doctor cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about the last time you were together as a family.”
“It was when she brought Jon to the hospital with the burn.” Gabe glowered at her.
“No, Gabe, we were at Eric’s football game a few days ago,” Alex corrected.
Ignoring her, the doctor said, “Let’s discuss that burn incident.”
“I was reading the paper, and Jon was sitting on my lap.” Alex rubbed the scar on her right wrist.
“What drew your attention away from Jon?” the doctor asked.
“I didn’t ignore him,” she said. “I just glanced down at a circus ad.”
“Did the ad trigger any particular memory for you, Mrs. Rose?” he asked.
“My memories have nothing to do with the boys,” she said, determined to make him understand she was a responsible, loving mother who would never harm her child.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dr. Weisbarth said and smiled without separating his lips, a Gabriel trait which she hated.
Alex leaned over and hugged Jon. As she looked back, she saw Gabe make eye contact with the doctor. They appeared oddly conspiratorial, which increased Alex’s anxiety about the possibility—no, probability—that they were working together to discredit her. Stay calm, she told herself as she watched the doctor jot down a note on his legal pad.
“Please continue,” Dr. Weisbarth instructed.
“There was an advertisement for Ringling Brothers, the circus, and—�
�
“When she was my age, the fat lady scared Mommy this much,” Jon interrupted, stretching out his arms, obviously proud of himself for remembering a story she’d told him about how the fat lady in the circus had frightened her when she was little.
The doctor nodded. “How did that make you feel, Mrs. Rose?”
“It’s Dr. Rose,” Alex said.
Eric tapped his foot on the sea-foam-green carpet. “Why do we have to be here?”
“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I didn’t explain.” Dr. Weisbarth rested his palms together. “Boys, as you know, your father examines people’s hearts and fixes them. Well, my job is to examine how people think and …”
“Can you see in my brain?” Jon asked.
Eric scowled. “I’d rather be at my game is what I’m thinking.”
“My mother fixes people’s backs,” Daniel offered.
“Eric, I do believe you acted responsibly and called your father at the hospital,” the doctor said, dismissing Daniel’s comment about Alex’s profession.
Eric nodded.
Alex bit back a protest.
In minute detail, they reviewed the day she’d spilled the boiling water. By the end of the hour-long session, Jon’s second-degree burn which barely blistered had become a near-death experience which he’d survived only due to Gabe’s intervention.
“Time to schedule our next appointments,” Dr. Weisbarth said and explained he wanted to meet with Alex the next week, Gabe the week after that, and then with each child alone during the subsequent weeks. Then they would finally meet as a family the week after that.
“But that’s six more sessions. Your report probably won’t be ready within sixty days,” Alex said.
“I can always request a slight extension due to my schedule,” the doctor said with mock apology and turned to Alex. “What about three o’clock next Friday for you?”
“I’ll be out of town next week. I’m leaving on Thursday.” She glanced at the boys, praying that Jon would be quiet and not say anything about her plans to go hunting. He’d been sitting on her lap when she’d been on the phone with Liz, and he’d definitely heard her tell Liz she was going hunting with Luke. She hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention to the call, but after she’d hung up, he hadn’t stopped asking questions about shooting animals.
With his usual enthusiasm, Jon blurted out, “Mommy’s going to shoot a deer.”
Her throat tightened. “I can reschedule my patients and come in any other afternoon next week.”
Dr. Weisbarth feigned sympathy and explained, “I only have time at three each Friday afternoon for this particular case. As I’ve stated, I’m completely booked.”
“Gabe could switch with me.” She glanced over at him.
“Sorry, Alex, but I’ve already changed my surgical schedule for my meeting with Dr. Weisbarth in two weeks.”
She wondered how he could have known his appointment would be in two weeks but decided it wouldn’t be prudent to interrogate Gabe in front of the doctor. She couldn’t do anything that might cause Dr. Weisbarth to label her as paranoid. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to go hunting and miss her meeting. Although Luke would be disappointed by her inability to accompany him on the hunting trip, the boys were her first priority.
The doctor pressed his palms together, a gesture that increased her annoyance with the man. “As you yourself stated, Mrs. Rose, we really need to implement this schedule in order to get the report to the judge within a reasonable time frame.”
“I’ll be here,” she said.
“Perfect,” Dr. Weisbarth said.
Gabe stood up and walked to the door. “Boys, let’s go home.”
Exiting the waiting room, Daniel leaned close to Alex. “Mom, I love you.”
“See you tomorrow,” Eric said.
“Mommy, don’t go.” Jon grabbed her legs. “I wanna see you for soup bizitation now.”
“Supervised visitation is tomorrow.” Alex kissed him.
“Boys, we’re late,” Gabe said sternly as they crowded into the tiny elevator, the tension so thick even Jon remained silent until the elevator doors opened.
As she watched the boys sprint to Gabe’s Mercedes, her heart thumped with longing.
Seth opened the car door, looked at her, and asked, “Can I do anything?”
Fighting back tears, she shook her head.
“How about dinner tonight?” he asked.
“I’m playing tennis tonight.”
“Of course.” Seth frowned. “That Luke fellow. Well, I’m joining your club.”
CHAPTER 33
Late, Alex rushed to the club locker room, hurriedly changed into her tennis outfit, and ran to the court. Luke was already there, warming up against their opponents. She took her place beside him on the court and started to play. Dreading the fact that she’d have to tell him she wouldn’t be able to go hunting with him, her concentration wavered. She made numerous errors. The other couple won the first set.
She sensed Luke’s growing anger about losing. That was a part of their relationship she loathed. Whenever she didn’t play well, he took it personally. And since his shots were often dependent upon how she hit the ball and set him up, he was critical of her. Whenever he was caught off balance, out of control, he’d glare at her. For him, tennis was clearly more than a game. It seemed he had to demonstrate his prowess, continually prove he could hold his own with other men—especially wealthy, professional men.
After a grueling duel at the net, the ball ricocheting back and forth with lightning speed, she turned to Luke and said, “That was a great rally, almost worth losing the point.”
“Nothing’s worth losing,” he snapped. Then he caught himself, as though realizing he needed her to focus in order to win. He patted her back. “Set me up, and I’ll put the ball away.”
She served. When their opponent returned the ball, Luke slammed it, bouncing it high into the opponents’ court. A return was impossible. They won the second set.
As they approached the net to shake their opponents’ hands, Alex whispered, “I don’t want to go up for drinks. I need to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Later,” she said.
“You both played well,” their opponent said. “Going up for a drink?”
Alex smiled tensely. “Another time.”
Luke stayed to arrange a rematch and then caught up to her in the parking lot.
“It’s not like you to run off,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t go hunting with you.”
“Why the hell not? I already told my hunting buddies. I even made arrangements for us to have the largest bedroom,” he said, the veins in his forehead visibly throbbing.
“I have the meeting with the forensic psychiatrist next Friday.”
As though weighing her words, her truthfulness, he studied her through a narrow-eyed gaze. “Then reschedule. How tough would that be?”
Alex shook her head. “I could lose my boys if I miss the appointment. I can’t go.”
There was no way she was going to back down. In the past, she would have capitulated. Shades of Gabe, she realized. Being measured, being found inadequate.
“I can’t imagine one meeting could be that critical,” he said.
“It definitely is,” she said, firmly, refusing to back down.
“Alex, think about changing the appointment.” He held the door for her as she got into her car. “Please.”
“I’ll start dinner,” she said, enjoying the routine they’d established: he’d come over each night after tennis, and they’d have dinner together. Preparing dinner for him made the pain of being in the house without the happy sound of children and Honey more bearable. When Luke came over after tennis, she was distracted and didn’t dwell on the empty chairs su
rrounding the dinner table.
“No, I gotta get home, call my buddies, and tell them about the changes.”
“You’re not coming over?”
“I hate when things change after I set my mind to one way.” He opened his truck door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She went home, turned on her computer, and started to write a report on one of her patients. There was an e-mail from Gabe: “Linda made plans for a trip in two weeks. I need to take your appointment next week.”
In Dr. Weisbarth’s office, Gabe had said his surgery schedule, “couldn’t be changed.” But this meant she could now go hunting with Luke. Excitedly, she e-mailed Gabe, agreeing to the schedule change. Then she phoned Luke. It went to his voice mail. She left a message.
Whenever she called Luke’s home phone, it would go directly to voice mail. He’d always call her back within a few minutes or, at most, an hour. She left two more messages.
When Luke hadn’t called back by 9:00 p.m., she decided to go to his house to tell him in person. Although he’d told her one of his daughters was “difficult” and got upset about him dating, Alex was certain he’d be so excited she could go hunting with him that he probably wouldn’t mind if she came to his house.
She called information to get his address. Unlisted.
Two weeks ago he’d had to take his work truck to be repaired, and she’d met him at the auto mechanic. She’d given him a ride to the entrance of his development. He’d insisted it would have been impossible for her to wind her way back out of the development if she had driven all the way to his house. She remembered the street where she’d dropped him off.
Confident she’d be able to find his truck since his development seemed relatively small, she got into her car and drove. As she got closer, she vacillated about the probability of him welcoming her to his house. Heart pounding, she thought about turning around. What if he gets angry with me for showing up unannounced? Then she decided since he’d made himself so comfortable in her home, it was her right to see his house.
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