Free Code Blue by Richard L. Mabry Page A

his chair and said, "Let's talk about what brought you back to Dainger."
    Cathy squirmed, not because her own chair was uncomfortable, but because Josh's question brought back unpleasant memories. It was as though someone had given an extra tug at the shroud of depression that had been wrapped about her for the past several months. She reached for the carafe and tumbler on the end table, poured half a glass, and drank.
    "Take your time." Josh appeared in no hurry, but apparently this was the direction their session would take today, and no amount of stalling would change that. "Tell me about Bob."
    "Robert," Cathy corrected automatically. "Robert Edward Newell. Never Bob. Bob would be common, and Robert would rather die than be common." She swallowed. "Robert's a year older than me. We met when he was in the last year of an ophthalmology residency. I was completing my family practice training. We were at Parkland Hospital at the same time. I fell for him immediately. He was absolutely charming.His family had money, and the way he dressed and acted showed it. He was sophisticated and self-assured. I felt . . . I don't know. I guess I felt secure with him."
    "And you became engaged."
    "Yes. It seemed like love at first sight. We decided to get married in July, after we finished our residencies. He planned to set up a practice in Dallas and draw from the upper crust in Highland Park. I was slated to join a multispecialty group in North Dallas, but then I got an invitation to stay on at the medical school as Assistant Professor in the Family Practice Department."
    "How did Robert feel about that?"
    "He was thrilled. A wife on the med school faculty.A society practice. It was perfect for him."
    "So what changed your mind?"
    Cathy thought back to that day, and she felt her stomach clench like a fist. "Robert wanted me to move in with him. At first I was naïve enough to think he just wanted me to save money on rent, but he had more in mind than that. I said no."
    "Why?"
    "Guilt? Fear? I'm not sure. My parents made sure I attended church as a child, and I guess a lot of it rubbed off on me. It didn't seem right. But more than that, I didn't want sex to be the only reason we were together. I couldn't let our marriage start out that way."
    "How did he react?" Josh asked.
    "I thought he accepted it. In retrospect, maybe he just made other plans."
    Josh displayed a perfect poker face. No judgment, no taking sides. His expression invited her to continue.
    "One night I dropped by Robert's apartment unannounced.I'd had a wonderful day and wanted to share the stories with him. I rang the doorbell, but there was no answer.His car was outside, so I knew he was home. I rang again.Then I knocked . . . knocked again . . . and again. Finally the door opened." She squeezed her eyes shut, but the film continued to run in the projector of her mind. "But it wasn't Robert. It was Carrie, one of the nurses in the Parkland operating room. She had on the robe I'd given Robert for Christmas. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick smeared. I barged past her and saw Robert coming out of the bedroom, buttoning his shirt."
    "And?"
    Cathy opened her eyes and looked at Josh. "He said, 'This isn't what you think.' But it was. I knew exactly what it was."
    Josh nodded a fraction of an inch.
    Cathy finished the water in her glass. "I pulled offmy engagement ring and threw it on the floor. Then I went back to my apartment and cried all night. The next morning I went to the head of the family practice department and told him I couldn't stay in Dallas."
    "Did you hear from Robert?"
    "He called, but I wouldn't answer. He sent me flowers, and I threw them in the garbage. He wrote letters, but I wrote 'Return to Sender' on the envelopes and dropped them back in the mail."
    Cathy leaned back, exhausted. Why did Josh insist on dragging out all these hurtful memories? Her father, Carter, Robert. She tried to make her mind go blank. She wanted to escape, but instead the synapses