He had tried to explain to her how impossible his schedule was, that he simply was unable to take on any new patients. He offered to recommend half a dozen good analysts. But Anne had quietly insisted that she wanted him to treat her. In the end Judd had agreed. Outwardly, except for the fact that she appeared to be under some stress, she seemed perfectly normal, and he was certain that her problem would be a relatively simple one, easily solved. He broke his rule about not taking any patient without another doctor’s recommendation, and he gave up his lunch hour in order to treat Anne. She had appeared twice a week for the past three weeks, and Judd knew very little more about her than he had known when she first came in. He knew something more about himself. He was in love—for the first time since Elizabeth.
At their first session, Judd had asked her if she loved her husband, and hated himself for wanting to hear her say that she did not. But she had said, “Yes. He’s a kind man, and very strong.”
“Do you think he represents a father figure?” Judd had asked.
Anne had turned her incredible violet eyes on him. “No. I wasn’t looking for a father figure. I had a very happy home life as a child.”
“Where were you born?”
“In Revere, a small town near Boston.”
“Are both your parents still alive?”
“Father is alive. Mother died of a stroke when I was twelve.”
“Did your father and mother have a good relationship?”
“Yes. They were very much in love.”
It shows in you, thought Judd happily. With all the sickness and aberration and misery that he had seen, having Anne here was like a breath of April freshness.
“Any brothers or sisters?”
“No. I was an only child. A spoiled brat.” She smiled up at him. It was an open, friendly smile without guile or affectation.
She told him that she had lived abroad with her father, who was serving in the State Department, and when he had remarried and moved to California, she had gone to work at the UN as an interpreter. She spoke fluent French, Italian, and Spanish. She had met her future husband in the Bahamas when she was on vacation. He owned a construction firm. Anne had not been attracted to him at first, but he had been a persistent and persuasive suitor. Two months after they met, Anne had married him. She had now been married for six months. They lived on an estate in New Jersey.
And that was all Judd had been able to find out about her in half a dozen visits. He still had not the slightest clue as to what her problem was. She had an emotional block about discussing it. He remembered some of the questions he had asked her during their first session.
“Does your problem involve your husband, Mrs. Blake?”
No answer.
“Are you and your husband compatible, physically?”
“Yes.” Embarrassed.
“Do you suspect him of having an affair with another woman?”
“No. “ Amused.
“Are you having an affair with another man?”
“No.” Angry.
He hesitated, trying to figure out the best approach to take to break down the barrier. He decided on a buckshot technique: he would touch on every major category until he struck a nerve.
“Do you quarrel about money?”
“No. He’s very generous.”
“Any in-law problems?”
“He’s an orphan. My father lives in California.”
“Were you or your husband ever addicted to drugs?”
“No.”
“Do you suspect your husband of being homosexual?”
A low, warm laugh. “No.”
He pressed on, because he had to. “Have you ever had a sexual relationship with a woman?”
“No.” Reproachful.
He had touched on alcoholism, frigidity, a pregnancy she was afraid to face—everything he could think of. And each time she had looked at him with her thoughtful, intelligent eyes and had merely shaken her head. Whenever he tried to pin her down, she would head him off with, “Please be patient with me. Let me do it my own way.”
With anyone else, he might have given up. But he knew that he had to help her. And he had to keep seeing her.