Tom lightened Laurie’s mood the moment she entered her apartment. Having been sleeping all day as well as through the previous night, the cat-kitten was a ball of energy. With truly awesome leaping ability he caromed off walls and furniture in a fantastic display of exuberance that made Laurie laugh to the point of tears.
Unaccustomed to the luxury of free time to splurge on herself, Laurie took full advantage of the next several hours by taking a nap as well as a bath. Since there had been no message from Jordan to the contrary, she assumed their dinner plans had not changed from the prearranged nine p.m.
After taking a half hour to decide what to wear, which encompassed trying on three different outfits, Laurie was ready by five of nine. Contrary to the previous two outings, Jordan himself showed up on time at nine sharp.
“You’re really going to get my neighbors talking now,” Laurie told him. “I’m sure they’re thinking I’ve been seeing Thomas.”
Jordan had made reservations for them at the Four Seasons. As with the other restaurants he favored, Laurie had never dined there. Although the food was excellent, the service impeccable, and the wine delightful, Laurie couldn’t help but compare it unfavorably to the nameless restaurant Lou had taken her to the night before. There was something so winning about that chaotic, bustling little place. The Four Seasons, on the other hand, was so quiet it was distracting. With the only sounds being the tinkle of ice against the waterglasses or the clink of the sans-serif flatware against the china, she felt she had to whisper. And the décor was so purposefully daunting with its stark geometry, she felt intimidated. Laurie choked on her water when a pesky thought occurred to her: What if it wasn’t the restaurant she preferred so much as the company?
Jordan was relaxed and expansive, going on about his office. “Things couldn’t be better,” he said. “I got a replacement for Marsha who is ten times better than Marsha ever was. I don’t know why I was so worried about replacing her. And my surgery is going fine. I’ve never done so much surgery in such a short period of time. I just hope it keeps up. My accountant called me yesterday and told me this is going to be a record month.”
“I’m glad for you,” Laurie said. She was tempted to mention her day’s revelations but Jordan didn’t give her a chance.
“I’m toying with the idea of adding an additional exam room,” he said. “Maybe even taking in a junior partner who would see all the junk patients.”
“What are junk patients?” Laurie asked.
“Nonsurgical ones,” Jordan said. He spotted a waiter and called him over to order a second bottle of wine.
“I looked at Mary O’Connor’s slides today,” Laurie said.
“I’d prefer to keep the conversation on happier subjects,” Jordan said.
“You don’t want to know what I found?” Laurie asked.
“Not particularly,” Jordan said. “Unless it was something astonishing. I can’t dwell on her. I have to move on. After all, her general medical condition was not my responsibility but rather her internist’s. It’s not as if she died during surgery.”
“What about your other patients who were killed?” Laurie asked. “Would you like to talk about them?”
“Not really,” Jordan said. “I mean, what’s the point? It’s not as if we can do anything for them.”
“I just thought you’d have a need to discuss it,” Laurie said. “If I were in your shoes, I’m sure I would.”
“It depresses me,” Jordan admitted. “But it doesn’t help to talk about it. I’d rather concentrate on the positive things in my life.”
Laurie studied Jordan’s face. Lou had said he’d seemed nervous when questioned about his patients’ deaths. Laurie didn’t see any nervousness now. All she saw was a deliberate denial: he’d just rather not think about any unpleasantness.
“Positive things like the fact that you operated on Paul Cerino yesterday?” Laurie asked.
If Jordan caught the facetiousness in her tone, he didn’t let on. “That’s the ticket,” he said, responding eagerly to a change in the subject. “I can’t wait to do the second eye and see the last of him.”