Behind him he heard his private secretary, Donna, come into the room, bringing his usual morning coffee and his usual stack of phone messages.
“Some weather!” Donna said. Her strong Boston accent made the word sound like wet hah
Robert turned. Donna had seated herself to the left of his desk to go over the phone messages, which was their usual routine.
Robert looked at her. She was a big girl, almost five-ten. In her heels, she practically looked him in the eye. Her hair was dyed blonde, the dark roots clearly visible. Her features were rounded but not unpleasant, and her body was toned from daily aerobic exercise. She was a great secretary: honest, devoted, and dependable,
She also had simple needs, and for a moment Robert wondered why he hadn’t married someone like Donna. Life would have been so much more predictable.
“Would you like sugar in your coffee?” she asked pleasantly.
Coffee sounded more like caw fee
“No, I don’t want coffee,” Robert said sharply.
Donna looked up from her notes.
“Aren’t we testy this morning,” she said.
Robert rubbed his eyes, then came around and sat down at his desk.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Donna.
“My wife is driving me crazy.”
“Is it that infertility stuff?” Donna asked timidly.
Robert nodded.
“She began to change just about the time we admitted that we might have a problem,” he said.
“Now, between this in-vitro fertilization rigmarole and all the hormones she’s on, she is truly out of control.”
“I’m sorry,” Donna said.
“To make matters worse, she’s met up with an old medical school friend who’s in the same situation and who is behaving equally irrationally,” Robert said.
“They seem to be feeding off each other. Now they are threatening to break into a health care clinic to get into their records. Unfortunately, I have to take her seriously in the state of mind she’s in. I wouldn’t put anything past her. But what can I do? And, on top of everything, this clinic has guards armed with Colt Pythons. I’m really worried about her.”
“They have snakes at this clinic?” Donna asked, wide-eyed.
“Huh? No, not snakes. A Colt Python is a revolver capable of stopping a black rhino.”
“I can give you some advice,” Donna said.
“If you’re really worried about what Marissa might do, you should hire a private investigator for a few days. He could keep her out of trouble if she is really inclined in that direction. And I happen to know someone who is very good. I used him to follow my former husband. The bum was having an affair with two women at the same time.”
“What’s this investigator’s name?” Robert asked. The idea of having Marissa followed hadn’t occurred to him, but it had some merit.
“Paul Abrums,” Donna said.
“He’s the best. He even got photos of my ex in bed with both girls. Separately, of course. My husband wasn’t that kind of guy. And Paul’s not that expensive.”
“How do I get in touch with him?” Robert asked.
“I’ve got the number in my address book in my purse,” Donna said.
“I’ll get it.”
Marissa peered into the otoscope to try to catch a glimpse of the eardrum of the writhing infant on the examination table. The mother was attempting to hold the baby but was doing a miserable job. Annoyed, Marissa gave up.
“I can’t see anything,” Marissa said.
“Can’t you hold the child, Mrs. Bartlett? She’s only eight months. She can’t be that strong.”
I’m trying,” the mother said.
“Trying isn’t good enough,” Marissa told her. She opened the examination room door and called for one of the nurses.
“I’ll send someone in as soon as I can,” Muriel Samuelson, the head nurse, shouted.
“For heaven’s sake,” Marissa muttered to herself. She was finding work exasperating. Everything was an effort, and it was difficult to concentrate. All she could think about was the pregnancy test she’d have after the weekend.
Stepping out of the examination room to get away from the shrieking infant, Marissa massaged the back of her neck. If she was this anxious already, what would it be like on Monday when she was waiting for the result?