“We’re so glad you could come,” Susan said as she gestured for Marissa to step into the living room.
In the living room, between twenty and thirty people were milling about, engaging in conversation. The impression was a normal cocktail party with a slight but obvious preponderance of women.
Playing the good hostess, Susan took Marissa around and introduced her to a number of the people present. But then the door chimed again and Susan excused herself.
To Marissa’s surprise and relief, she was immediately put at ease. She had thought she would feel out of place, but she didn’t at all. All the women seemed warm and friendly.
“And what do you do?” asked Sonya Breverton. Susan had just introduced her to Marissa before leaving to answer the door.
Sonya had told Marissa that she was a stockbroker with Paine Webber.
“I’m a pediatrician,” Marissa replied.
“Another doctor!” Sonya remarked.
“It’s reassuring that you professionals suffer along with the rest of us. There’s another doctor here, an ophthalmologist. Wendy Wilson.”
“Wendy Wilson!” Marissa exclaimed, her eyes immediately sweeping the room. She felt a surge of excitement. Could it be the Wendy Wilson she’d gone to Columbia Medical School with?
Her eyes stopped on a woman across the room who was not much taller than herself, with short, sandy-blonde hair.
Marissa excused herself and began to weave her way through the people to her old friend. As she got closer, the impish, pixie like features were immediately unmistakable.
“Wendy!” Marissa shouted, interrupting the woman in mid-sentence.
Wendy turned her eyes to Marissa.
“Marissa!” Wendy cried, giving her a big hug. Wendy quickly introduced Marissa to the woman with whom she’d been speaking, explaining that Marissa was an old medical school chum she’d not seen since graduation.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, the other woman politely excused herself, suspecting they had a lot of catching up to do.
“When did you get to Boston?” Marissa demanded.
“I’ve been here for over two years. I finished my residency at UCLA, worked for several years at the hospital, then came east with my husband, who took a surgical position at Harvard. I’m at the Mass. Eye and Ear. What about you? When I first got back, I asked about you and was told you’d moved to Atlanta.”
“That was just for a two-year stint at the CDC,” Marissa explained.
“I’ve been back for about three years.” Quickly she filled Wendy in on her marriage, her practice, where she lived.
“Weston!” Wendy laughed.
“We’re neighbors. We live in Wellesley. Hey, you’re not here as tonight’s lecturer, are you?”
“Afraid not,” Marissa said.
“How about you?”
“I wish,” Wendy said.
“My husband and I have been trying to have a child for two years now. It’s been a disaster.”
“Same with me,” Marissa admitted.
“I can’t believe this. It takes being infertile to meet up with you. And here I was worried that I’d meet someone I knew.”
“Is this your first Resolve meetine.” Wendy asked.
“I’ve only been to five or so, but I’ve never heard your name.”
“First one,” Marissa admitted.
“I’d always been reluctant to come, but recently a counselor recommended it.”
“I’ve enjoyed it,” Wendy said.
“Problem is, I can’t get my granite-headed husband here. You know how surgeons are. He hates to admit that somebody might have something to offer in the way of information or expertise.”
“What’s his name?” Marissa asked.
“Gustave Anderson,” Wendy said.
“And he’s just what he sounds like: one of those white-blond Swedes from Minnesota.”
“I can’t Set my husband, Robert, to get near anything that smacks of therapy,” Marissa said.
“He’s no surgeon, but just as rock-headed.”
“Maybe they can talk to each other,” Wendy suggested. don’t know,” Marissa said.
“Robert doesn’t like to think he’s being manipulated. The therapist tried talking with him after my last transfer, but it only made things worse.”
“Excuse me, everybody!” Susan Walker called out over the general din.
“If everyone could find a seat, we’ll get going.”
Marissa and Wendy sat down on a nearby couch. Marissa was still full of questions for her old friend and had to force herself to be patient. She and Wendy had been quite close during medical school. The fact that they had lost touch was purely a function of geography and their busy careers. After the long forced isolation of infertility, Marissa was overjoyed to find such a former friend in whom she could confide.