“I enjoyed the story about the curling iron,” he added. “I had no idea you could get electrocuted with such an appliance unless you dropped it in the tub while you were taking a bath.”
“You might have said so at the time.” She knew she wasn’t being polite, but she wasn’t feeling particularly hospitable just then.
Jordan nodded. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I felt a little inhibited by your parents. It’s pretty obvious they are not wild about your specialty choice.”
“Is it that obvious?” Laurie asked.
“Indeed,” Jordan said. “I couldn’t believe your father’s remark about that woman in their thoracic program. And your mother kept trying to change the subject of the conversation.”
“You should have heard my mother’s comment the day I told her I was going into forensics. She said: “What will I tell people at the club who ask me what you do?’ That gives you a pretty good idea of her feelings. And my father, the quintessential cardiac surgeon! He thinks that anything other than surgery, specifically thoracic surgery, is for the weak, the timid, and the retarded.”
“Not an easy pair to please. It must be hard on you.”
“Frankly, I’ve caused them some heartache through the years. I was a pretty rebellious kid: dating rough types, riding motorcycles, staying out late, the usual. Maybe I trained my parents to be wary of everything I do. They’ve never been particularly supportive. In fact they’ve kind of ignored me, especially my father.”
“Your father certainly speaks highly of you now,” Jordan said. “Practically every time I run into him in the surgical lounge.”
“Well, it’s news to me,” Laurie said.
“Anybody want more cognac?” Sheldon called. He’d stuck his head into the den, waving the bottle of cognac.
Jordan said no. Laurie merely shook her head. Sheldon told them to give a yell if they changed their minds. Then he left them.
“Enough,” said Laurie. “This is much too serious a conversation. I didn’t mean to put a damper on the evening.” She actually was sorry she’d revealed so much to Jordan. It wasn’t like her to confide in a relative stranger this way, similar to what she’d done with Lou Soldano. But she’d been feeling vulnerable all day, ever since she’d been assigned Duncan Andrews.
“You didn’t put a damper on anything,” Jordan assured her. Then he looked at his watch. “Say,” he said. “It’s getting late, and I have surgery in the morning. My first case, at seven-thirty, is an English baron who sits in the House of Lords.”
“Really,” Laurie said without much interest.
“I think I’ll be calling it a night,” Jordan added. “I’d be delighted to give you a lift home. That is, of course, if you are intending to leave.”
“I’d love a ride home,” Laurie said. “I’ve been thinking about leaving since we got up from the table.”
After the appropriate goodbyes during which Dorothy let Laurie know her coat was far too thin for late fall, Jordan and Laurie left the party and waited at the elevator.
“Mothers!” Laurie said once the doors had closed behind them.
As they rode down, Jordan started talking about the parade of celebrities due in his office the next day. Laurie wasn’t sure if he was trying to impress her or merely cheer her up.
Emerging from the building into the cold November air, Jordan switched the conversation to the surgical aspect of his practice. Laurie was nodding as if listening. In reality she was waiting for some signal from Jordan whether he’d parked his car to the north or to the south. For a moment they stopped directly in front of the building while Jordan told Laurie how many surgical cases he did in a year.
“Sounds like you’re busy,” Laurie said.
“Could be busier,” Jordan admitted. “If I had my way, I’d be doing twice the amount of surgery I’m doing now. Surgery is what I enjoy; it’s what I’m best at.”
“Which way is your car?” Laurie finally asked. She was shivering.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s right here.” He pointed to a long black limousine sitting directly in front of her parents’ building. As if on cue, a liveried driver leaped out and held the rear door open for Laurie.