The Lobotomist's Wife(52)

“If you like, I can go and knock.”

“Well, didn’t he tell you what we’re supposed to do?”

“He didn’t, baby.” Frank smiled. “I’ll just go and check. Stay here where it’s a little warmer and try to relax.”

As Frank walked along the bluestone slabs toward the small building, his breath making a cloud of smoke in front of him, she saw him slip and catch himself. “Frank, watch out!” she cried, too vehemently, she knew. But if he fell, how would she help him? What would she do? She was wearing pumps—what if she slipped too?

She knew she needed to get control of her thoughts. Apparently, this “therapy” would help her understand herself so she could get better. Feel what she was supposed to feel instead of always being so overcome.

Frank returned down the path, giving her a thumbs-up. How was he always so calm, so even, so patient? She wanted desperately to feel that way. Instead of being a constantly agitated wreck.

“He’s ready.” Frank opened her car door and extended his hand to help her out. She looped her arm in his and they walked side by side until they reached the copper-roofed carriage house. Inside the open door, she saw what looked like a pleasant-enough sitting room with a modern, amoeba-shaped coffee table, a reclining chaise, a love seat, and a leather chair. At the sound of their footsteps, the man inside turned and walked to the door. He wasn’t tall. Compared with Frank, he was, in fact, quite small. But something about the way he carried himself gave him an air of authority. Like a school principal. She immediately wanted him to like her.

“You must be Margaret.” He smiled, extending his hand as he took her in with his gaze. His hands were soft and warm, and she immediately felt a bit more at ease. “I’m Dr. Apter. Why don’t you come sit down, and we can get started?” He waved her in with a rather grand gesture, almost a bow, and then turned to Frank. “We’ll be finished in fifty minutes.”

He shut the door and told Margaret to sit wherever she liked. She chose the end of the sofa, farthest from his leather chair. And then, just like that, her whole life began to change.





Chapter Thirty


Ruth made her way nervously up First Avenue toward the restaurant. In spite of the bitter cold, she decided to walk, both to calm her nerves and to ensure that she wasn’t early. Normally she took great pride in her tendency to be punctual, but today, she decidedly did not want to arrive first. They had chosen the bistro on Fiftieth both because it was rumored to have excellent food and because it was well out of the radius of the hospital—she wanted this meeting to be discreet.

Since learning about the 228 lobotomies performed last year during what Robert now referred to as “Operation Ice Pick,” Ruth had a niggling unease about Robert’s trips. The holidays put a temporary stay on his travel, but since the New Year, Robert spent more time than ever touring the country in the car he had dubbed his “lobotomobile.” Ruth needed to assuage her concerns.

She was so bundled up that, by the time Ruth reached La Toque Blanche, she was damp with perspiration. She stood outside briefly, attempting to dab herself off, which made her feel silly. She’d never given a second thought to her appearance around Edward in the past. Why was she so nervous?

Calm settled over her the moment she entered the dimly lit restaurant and locked eyes with him. Something about his whole essence gave Ruth comfort—it always had. He had reached out to her after Dr. Moniz had won the Nobel Prize, about four years ago, but she was still hurt by his sudden and complete break with them, with her. She had thought they were closer than that. Truth be told, she also still felt humiliated by the embezzlement scandal at the hospital. Edward had become established and successful in his own right, as both a professor and chair of the Neurology Department at Columbia. Meanwhile, she had taken over Emeraldine’s operations only to have her first assistant superintendent, Roy Haddington, steal from the hospital under her watch. She felt more than fortunate that Charles had helped convince the board it had been as much his mistake as hers, but Ruth knew the truth. She hadn’t spent enough time doing what she needed to do to keep the hospital running. After Haddington disappeared, she doubled her efforts to appease the hospital’s donors and replenished much of the loss from her own pocket. At that moment her job really changed. She hated that she didn’t see her patients much, but it was necessary to keep Emeraldine running smoothly. Making sure that Emeraldine stayed open for her patients was vastly more important than spending time with the patients themselves.

Ruth settled into her job and now had the support of a reliable assistant superintendent, Jeremy Mandrake. His presence allowed her to return her focus to the specifics of her patients. She had noticed that more patients who had lobotomies remained at Emeraldine than she’d expected. It didn’t make sense. If lobotomy was less effective than they had thought, Robert surely wouldn’t continue performing the procedure on hundreds of people across the country. She had tried to reconcile these seemingly discordant facts with Robert, but he had brushed her off. Which led her here. Edward was the only other person she knew who could help her make sense of what she was starting to fear. Maybe lobotomy wasn’t all they hoped it would be.

“Ruth, you have no idea how wonderful it is to see you. I was overjoyed when you called.” Gone was the awkward man-boy who had first entered her office nearly two decades ago; in his place stood a distinguished gentleman, even more handsome with the sprinkle of gray in his temples, the scattering of lines at the edges of his eyes, his fuller, more solid figure. He immediately drew her into a strong embrace. Ruth was taken aback. The Edward she knew was much more tentative and cautious.