The Lobotomist's Wife(75)

“You manipulative bitch! While I was in the city thinking of the best way to make amends with you, you’ve been trespassing in my office, reading my files, building a false case against my work.”

“It is not a false case,” she said in a voice steely with determination. “You are ruining lives and preparing to ruin more.”

“Ruining lives?”

“And in the end, that’s all you’ll be known for—” She stood, drawing back her shoulders and lifting her chest to square off with him at her full height. As soon as they locked eyes, she saw her mistake. He was out of control. Beyond reason. Her eyes darted toward the door, hoping to escape, but it was too late.

“Enough!” he bellowed, smacking her across the face with his full force.

She fell hard to the floor.

“Once and for all, shut your goddamned mouth! You’re not a doctor, and as soon as I report your breach to the hospital’s board, I suspect you’ll no longer be an administrator. And, once I retain a lawyer, you’ll no longer be my wife.”

Robert turned and stormed out of the room. He didn’t even turn back to see that his blow had left Ruth knocked out cold.





Chapter Forty-Seven


Frank’s foot bounced as he sat on the bench outside the doctor’s office. “What’s taking him so long? Didn’t you have an appointment ten minutes ago?”

“He’s usually very punctual. He did call personally last night to confirm this appointment.”

Just then Dr. Apter opened the door. “Mr. Baxter, so good to see you. Maggie should be ready to be taken home in an hour.”

Margaret was surprised by his appearance. Usually, he was well coiffed and calm, yet today, his hair was wild, his tie was askew, even his eyebrows were a mess—like an absentminded grandpa. She almost giggled at the absurdity of it.

“We want to speak to you together,” Frank said as he pushed past Robert and into his office, Margaret trailing behind him. “This won’t take long.”

“Then please, won’t you sit down?”

Margaret gave Frank a confused look as he sat beside her on the sofa. This was not what she had expected. She’d asked him to come along because of the procedure. Because she wouldn’t be able to drive herself home.

“Mr. Baxter, tell me, what’s on your mind.” Dr. Apter tapped his pencil impatiently; he seemed irritated. Margaret didn’t entirely blame him.

“I don’t think Maggie should have the surgery.” Margaret’s heart stopped for a moment and her hearing got fuzzy.

“You what?” She turned to look at Frank. All the color had drained from his face.

“Maggie, I don’t want you to do this.”

“But . . . you brought me here. It’s today. We agreed! For the kids, for you, for . . . me.”

“Mr. Baxter,” the doctor jumped in, “I appreciate that you are anxious about the idea of your wife having any sort of procedure. But I can assure you it is quite safe. She will be just fine.”

“Then how come your wife told her not to do it?”

“Frank!” Margaret looked at him sharply. That was supposed to have been between them. She shouldn’t have told him about her encounter with Ruth yesterday. It had clouded his judgment. But he hadn’t seen Ruth—she was hysterical. Margaret knew better. It wouldn’t cloud her judgment.

“No, Mags, I want to hear what he has to say. Your wife told Maggie that she doesn’t need a lobotomy. That lobotomy will not help her. She said she doesn’t even believe in lobotomy anymore. So, Doctor, I want to understand—if your wife doesn’t believe in it, why should I let you do this to my wife?”

“My WIFE?!” Margaret had never seen the doctor angry before and it frightened her.

“Dr. Apter, I met her by chance this spring.” Margaret attempted to calm him down. “She was in the garden as I was leaving, and we got to talking after my sessions. I saw her yesterday when you weren’t here.”

“And what exactly did she say?”

“She said that Maggie shouldn’t do this,” Frank sputtered angrily.

“I see. And I assume you know that my wife is only an administrator of a hospital? She is not a doctor. She’s had no formal training whatsoever. Not a single credential that qualifies her to give you any kind of medical advice or opinion. Why, everything she knows, she learned from me!”

“Dr. Apter.” Frank stood protectively. “This is not just about your wife. You haven’t been honest with us about the risks of this surgery. We demand to know the truth.”

“Mr. Baxter, please. I can see that you are both upset, and I understand. As you know, I do work from my home and, to be honest, my wife and I have had a bad argument. She has a tendency to become a bit hysterical and unhinged when we quarrel. It is really the only explanation for why she would have chosen to speak to Margaret. But I can assure you, Mrs. Apter is not a qualified source of information about what I am proposing here.” He took a deep breath and looked sympathetically at Margaret. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, as it seems you have a fondness for my Ruthie, but she is quite ill herself. She lost her brother years ago and has been haunted by it ever since. She has good stretches, excellent ones actually, but when she has these attacks, she cannot be trusted.”