Godplayer (24 page)

He drove the way he had coming from the hospital, recklessly and fast. She wished he had a close friend she could go to someone who really cared for him, but in truth he didn’t have many friends at all. For a moment she was reminded of her last meeting with Colonel Bentworth. Then she caught her breath. Identifying with Maureen Kavenaugh was one thing, but comparing her husband to a borderline personality was ridiculous. Cassi turned her attention to the window to keep from thinking and tried to see through the moisture. It was a dark, forbidding night.

The Ballantines’ house fronted on the ocean, just like Thomas’s. But that was where the similarities ended. The Ballantines’ home was a large, stone mansion and had been in the family for a hundred years. In order to maintain the house, Dr. Ballantine had sold off some of the land to a developer, but since the original plot was so large, no other house could be seen from the main building. It gave the impression of being in the country.

As they got out of the car, Cassi noticed that Thomas had a slight tremor.

His coordination seemed slightly off as they mounted the front steps. Oh God, what had he taken?

Thomas’s demeanor changed as soon as he joined the party. Cassi watched with amazement, although she knew how easily he could abandon an angry mood and become charming and animated. If only he would still expend some of that charm on her. Deciding it was safe to leave him, Cassi began to look for the food. Having given herself her evening insulin, she shouldn’t wait too long before eating. The dining room was to the right, and she made her way over to the arched entrance.

Thomas was pleased. As he’d expected, most of the hospital trustees and the deans of the medical school were at the party. He’d seen them over the shoulders of the small group of people he’d joined when first arriving. He was particularly interested in finding the chairman of the board. Picking up a fresh drink, he began to make his way through the crowd toward the men when Ballantine came over to him.

“Ah, there you are Thomas.” Ballantine had been drinking heavily, and the circles under his eyes were pronounced, giving him more the appearance of a Basset hound than usual. “Glad that you could make it.”

“Wonderful party,” said Thomas.

“You better believe it,” said Ballantine with a forceful wink. “Things are really happening at the old Boston Memorial. God, it’s exciting.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Thomas, backing up a step. Dr. Ballantine had a habit of spitting when he pronounced “Ts” after he’d had a few drinks.

Ballantine stepped closer. “I’d like to tell you, but I can’t,” he whispered. “But maybe soon, and I think you should join us. Have you given any thought to my offer of full professorship?”

Thomas felt his patience evaporate. He didn’t want to hear about joining the full-time staff. He had no idea what Ballantine was referring to when Ballantine said, “Things are really happening.” But Thomas didn’t like the sound of it. As far as he was concerned, any change in the status quo was worrisome. He suddenly recalled seeing Ballantine’s office light blazing at 2:00 A.M.

“What were you doing in your office so late last night?”

Ballantine’s happy face clouded. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curiosity,” said Thomas.

“That’s a strange question just coming outta the blue,” said Dr. Ballantine.

“I was in surgery last night. I saw your office light from the lounge.”

“Must have been cleaning people,” said Ballantine. He raised his glass and stared at it. “Looks like I need a refill.”

“I also saw George Sherman’s car in the garage,” said Thomas. “It seemed an odd coincidence.”

“Ah,” said Ballantine, with a wave of his hand. “George’s been having trouble with that car for a month. Something with the electrical system. Can I get you another drink? You’re as low as I.”

“Why not?” said Thomas. He was sure Ballantine was lying. The moment the chief edged toward the bar, Thomas recommenced his search for the chairman. It was more important than ever to find out what was going on at the Memorial.

Cassi stayed by the buffet table for a while eating and chatting with several other wives. When she was sure she had absorbed enough calories to balance her insulin, she decided she’d better find Thomas. She had no idea what drugs he’d taken, and she was nervous. She had just started for the living room when George Sherman stopped her.

“You look beautiful, as usual,” he said with a warm smile.

“You look good yourself, George,” said Cassi. “I like you far better in a tuxedo than that old corduroy jacket of yours.”

George laughed self-consciously. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you find psychiatry. I was surprised when I heard you’d made the switch. In a lot of ways, I envy you.”

“Don’t tell me you give psychiatry any credibility. I didn’t think any surgeon did.”

“My mother suffered a severe postpartum depression after my younger brother was born. I’m convinced her psychiatrist saved her life. I might have chosen it as a specialty if I thought I would have been successful. It takes a sensitivity I don’t have.”

“Nonsense,” said Cassi. “You have the sensitivity. I think it would be the passivity that would give you trouble. It’s the patient who has to do the work in psychiatry,” George was silent for a moment, and as Cassi watched his face she suddenly thought of fixing him up with Joan. They were both such nice people.

“Are you interested in meeting an attractive new woman these days?”

“I’m always interested in attractive women. Though few measure up to you.”

“Her name is Joan Widiker. She’s a third-year psychiatry resident.”

“Wait a second,” said George. “I’m not sure I can handle a psychiatrist. She’ll probably ask me all sorts of tough questions when I drag out my whips and chains. I might be too self-conscious. Worse than when I was with you. Remember that first date?”

Cassi laughed. How could she forget? George had clumsily knocked her hand during dinner so that she’d spilled linguini Alfredo into her lap. Then, in his eagerness to help mop it up, he’d knocked her Chianti Classico into her lap as well.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” said George. “I do appreciate your thinking of me and I’ll give Joan a call. But Cassi, I wanted to talk to you about something a little more serious.”

Cassi unconsciously straightened, unsure of what was coming.

“As a colleague, I’m worried about Thomas.”

“Oh?” said Cassi as casually as she could.

“He works too damn hard. It’s one thing to be dedicated, quite another to be obsessed. I’ve seen it before. Often physicians can go along at nine hundred miles an hour for years and then suddenly burn themselves out. The reason I’m saying all this is to ask you to try to get Thomas to slow down, maybe take a vacation. He’s been wound up like a coiled spring. There’s gossip he’s had a couple of bad arguments with the residents and nurses.”

George’s words awakened all Cassi’s submerged tears. She bit her lip, but remained silent.

“If you could get him to take some vacation time, I’ll be happy to cover his practice if need be.” George was startled to see Cassi’s eyes fill with tears. She turned away, hiding her face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said George. Reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all right,” said Cassi, struggling to regain her composure. “I’m okay.” She looked up and managed a smile.

“Dr. Ballantine and I have discussed Thomas,” said George. “We’d like to help. We both think that when someone works as hard as Thomas, he has to recognize that there’s an emotional price to pay.”

Cassi nodded as if she understood. She gave George’s hand a squeeze.

“If you feel uncomfortable talking to me, maybe see Dr. Ballantine. He thinks the world of your husband. Maybe you’d like the chief s private extension at the hospital?”

Cassi evaded George’s warm gaze. Concentrating on her purse, she extracted a small notepad and pencil.

When George gave her the number, she wrote it down. When she looked up, her heart almost stopped. She found herself looking directly into Thomas’s unblinking stare. With knowledge born of intimacy, she instantly knew he was violently angry. All at once, George’s hand felt heavy on her shoulder.

She quickly excused herself, but by the time she moved toward the door, Thomas had disappeared.

Thomas hadn’t been so angry since he was a freshman in college and one of his roommates had dated Thomas’s girl friend. No wonder George had been acting so strangely. He’d been renewing his affair with Cassi, and Cassi had no more sense than to display her interest in front of all Thomas’s colleagues. The cold knot of fear in the pit of his stomach stirred. His hand shook so badly he almost spilled his drink. Quickly tossing it off, he stepped through the French doors onto the veranda, welcoming the sharp ocean breeze.

Frantically he searched his pockets for a pill. The evening had gone badly from the start. A trustee who’d already made several trips to the bar had stopped to offer congratulations on the hospital’s new teaching program.

When Thomas had stared blankly in response, the man had muttered a quick apology and backed out of the room. Thomas had been about to search out Ballantine and demand an explanation when he’d seen Cassi.

God, what a fool he’d been. Now that he thought about it, it was obvious George and Cassi were having an affair. No wonder she never complained when he stayed so often in the hospital. Mercilessly his mind teased him with the idea that they met in his house. The image of George in their bedroom made Thomas cry out in rage. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a couple standing in the doorway, and Thomas was suddenly afraid they were aware of the affair.

Obviously they were talking about him. He pulled out another pill, swallowed it, and went back inside for another drink.

Frantic to find Thomas, Cassi began to work her way around the living room, excusing herself as she squeezed among the guests.

She was on her way into the bar when she found herself face to face with Dr. Obermeyer.

“What a coincidence!” he said. “My most difficult patient!”

Cassi smiled nervously. She remembered she’d reneged on her promise to call him that day.

“Unless my memory fails, you were supposed to schedule your surgery today,” said Dr. Obermeyer. “Did you talk to Thomas about it?”

“Why don’t I come to your office tomorrow morning,” said Cassi evasively.

“Maybe I should talk to your husband,” said Dr. Obermeyer. “Is he here?”

“No,” said Cassi. “I mean, yes he’s here, but I don’t think this is the time ...”

A tremendous yell shook the room, halting all conversation and stopping Cassi in midsentence. Everyone looked confused; everyone but Cassi. She recognized the voice. It was Thomas! Running back toward the dining room, she heard another shout, followed by a crash of broken glass.

Pushing her way through the other guests, Cassi saw Thomas standing in front of the buffet, his face flushed with anger, a number of broken plates at his feet.

Staring at him in horrified surprise was George Sherman, a drink in one hand and a carrot stick in the other.

As Cassi watched, George reached out and patted Thomas’s shoulder with the carrot, saying, “Thomas, you’re mistaken.”

Thomas knocked George’s arm away with a vicious snap of his wrist. “Don’t touch me! And don’t ever touch my wife. Understand?” He jabbed a threatening finger into George’s face.

“Thomas?” said George helplessly.

Cassi ran between the two men. “What is the matter with you, Thomas?” she said, grabbing his jacket. “Control yourself!”

“Control myself,” he repeated, turning toward her. “I think that applies more to you than me.”

With a final sneer, he shook himself from Cassi’s grasp and headed for the front door. Ballantine, who’d been in the kitchen, followed, calling his name.

Cassi apologized quickly to George and moved toward the door, her head bent to avoid the curious stares.

Thomas meanwhile had found his coat and was saying angrily to Ballantine, “I’m terribly sorry about all this, but learning that one of your colleagues is having an affair with your wife is hard to take.”

“I, I can’t believe that,” said Ballantine. “Are you sure.

“I’m sure,” said Thomas. He turned to open the door as Cassi ran up and caught his arm.

“Thomas, what are you doing?” she said, fighting tears.

Thomas didn’t answer. Buttoning his coat, he turned to leave.

“Thomas, talk to me. What happened?”

Thomas yanked his arm away from Cassi with such force she almost fell to the ground. She hesitated as he opened the door and stormed outside.

Cassi caught up to him at the bottom of the steps.

“Thomas, if you’re going to leave, then I’m coming. Let me get my coat.”

Thomas stopped short. “I don’t want you with me. Why don’t you just stay here and enjoy your affair!”

Confused, Cassi watched him walk away. “My affair? This is your affair. I didn’t want to come tonight!”

Thomas didn’t respond. Cassi gathered up the skirt of her long dress and ran after him. By the time she reached the Porsche she was shaking violently, but she didn’t know whether it was from fear or the cold.