She held it for three controlled breaths, then dropped her hands flat to the floor, slowly lifted her left leg, balancing it against the right, until she was holding a hand stand, legs together, back arched, toes pointed.
Again slowly she let her limbs sink like drooping petals until they touched the mat—let the Arch sink into the Wheel, melted still farther into the Diamond pose, knees and elbows touching mat and floor—held it—let it roll slowly forward into Lotus. “Om Mani Padme Hum.” (Om Mani Padme Hum. Pick up your check at the gate, girl; we won’t need to shoot this scene over.) (Thanks, Eunice. But I had a good guru, Guru.) (De nada, Chela.)
Dr. Garcia was applauding. “Terrific! Unbelievable. Like everything else about this case. Winnie! Can you do that?”
Joan flowed upward, was standing. “Sure she can! Skin ‘em off, dear, and show Doctor.”
The nurse blushed deeply. “No, I can’t. Don’t believe her, Doctor; I’m just learning.”
“Oh, fuff. I have to steady her only a little. Come back in two weeks, Doctor, and she’ll do it by herself. It’s not hard—just takes angleworms in your ancestry.”
“Which you seem to have. But, if Winnie didn’t teach you, where did you learn it, Joan?”
(Oh, oh! Watch it, Boss—he smells a mouse.)
“How old are you, Doctor?”
“Eh? Thirty-seven.”
“I learned it about forty years before you were born. But didn’t have time to keep it up,” she went on. “Then for many years didn’t have the physique even to try. But it all came back so easily that I am forced to assume that Mrs. Branca was better at it than I was even as a limber kid.” (Let’s see him check that, sweetheart.) (Never make a lie too complicated, Boss.) (Look, infant, I was lying with a straight face when your grandmother was in rompers. Erase and correct—your great-grandmother.)
“Well . . . I’m going to write it up as part of your final physical—if I can figure out how to describe it. Your robe, Joan?”
“Thank you.” She took it and held it, instead of presenting her back for him to put it on her. “Doctor, Mr. Salomon will be settling your fees and expenses. But, to show my great appreciation, I want to add something.”
He shook his head. “A doctor should not accept more than his fee…and, I assure you, mine are high.”
“Nevertheless I want to.” She dropped the robe. “Winnie, turn your back, dear.” She went straight into his startled arms, put up her face to be kissed.
He hesitated about one heartbeat, then put his arms around her and kissed her. Joan sighed softly, her lips came open, and she flowed more closely against him—
(Don’t faint! Let’s not miss any of this.) (Don’t bother me, Eunice; I’m busy!)
The Doctor broke from it, caught his breath, and looked at her soberly. Then he reached down, recovered her robe and held it. Joan let him put it on her, then said, “Thank you, Doctor.” She turned and smiled.
“Um. I think I can honestly report that you are in excellent physical condition. Mr. Salomon is waiting.”
“Please tell him I’ll be out in a moment.”
Joan waited until the door closed. Then she went into Winifred’s arms and giggled against her shoulder. “Winnie, did you turn your back? Didn’t you peek a little? I hope.”
“I turned my back. But I had a full view in the mirror. Whew!”
“Whew twice. So that’s what it feels like. Honey, I don’t feel nearly so virginal now.”
“Is he good? It looked like it.”
“I don’t know. I have no way to judge. Dear darling Jake kisses me; you’ve seen him—but just ‘uncle’ sort of pecks. And you kiss me—and yours aren’t pecks. But you’re a girl and smaller than I am. Doctor is the first man who has really kissed me . . . and it made me feel so little and helpless that I darn near dragged him down onto the mat. You’ve never kissed him?”
“Him? Joan honey, if I told any of the nurses about this, I would not be believed. Dr. Garcia doesn’t even pat bottoms; he just growls.”