Free Hooked by Michael Harris, Ruth Harris Page B

was a statement, not a question, and there was no need for him to answer.
    “What shall I tell Bobbi? She’s expecting us.”
    “Tell her that I don’t plan to squander the evening with gossip and chit chat when there are people who need me,” he said. He brushed past her and left the apartment.
    Alone now, Cleo dialed Bobbi’s number.
    “Bobbi, it’s me. I’m afraid we’re not going to make it this evening—”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Bobbi. “I was looking forward to seeing you and Gavin. Are you okay?”
    “Tired but okay,” she said. “You don’t mind too much, do you?”
    “Cleo?”
    “Yes?”
    “You’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”
    All of the anguish and frustration she had been trying to suppress poured forth and Cleo began crying into the phone.
    “He walked out on me,” Cleo finally said. “We were fighting. That’s all we do lately. We can’t say good morning without getting into an argument.”
    “You were arguing about coming to my house for dinner, weren’t you?”
    “Yes,” Cleo muttered softly. “He made some remark about not wanting to waste his time with gossip and chit chat and then he walked out. I don’t know what to do, Bobbi. Everything’s turned so sour—”
    “You’re not so special, dear. A lot of marriages go through stages like this,” she said. “People tell you that love is wonderful and they’re right, but they don’t bother to tell you that love is also a pain in the ass. Pardon my French—”
    “But I never went through anything like this when I was married the first time—”
    “This is a different man and a different marriage,” Bobbi said. “It will probably take a little time before you two learn to give and take. Just what are most of the arguments about, anyway? Your boring friends?”
    “You’re not boring, Bobbi. That’s just Gavin being contrary—”
    “I
am
boring,” Bobbi said. “All I do is go to the hairdresser, shop and clip coupons. That’s what women like me do. Gavin is a brilliant doctor—”
    “He
is
brilliant,” said Cleo. “His patients line up night and day to see him—”
    “You could solve your own problem,” Bobbi said. “You could make the adjustment yourself and live the kind of life Gavin wants—”
    “But how?”
    “Tell the world what you and I already know,” said Bobbi. “That he’s brilliant—”
    At one that morning, Cleo heard his key in the lock. She lay quietly in bed as she heard him tiptoe through their room and undress in the bathroom. When he climbed in beside her, she spoke.
    “I’m glad you’re home,” she said.
    “Good.”
    “I’ve been thinking about what you said. Maybe you’re right—”
    “Three cheers.”
    “I can help you—”
    “You can help me by letting me go to sleep,” he said. “I have a busy day tomorrow.”
    “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about us,” Cleo said. “I want to be part of your work—”
    “You do?” he said. “I thought my work bored you—”
    “Sometimes I felt shut out—”
    “I know I’m not always the easiest person to live with,” he said. “I’m sorry I was so short—”
    “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better wife—”
    He was naked and she touched his thigh with her palm. He pulled her over to him and, for the first time in a while, they made love.
    “No shot this time,” she said, as he reached for his hypodermic. “All I want to feel is
you
—”

20
    Project number one, Cleo told Bobbi, was to find Gavin a new office. A new office, she explained, would get him — and his patients — out of their apartment. She found the place she wanted on Beekman Place, an eight-room suite previously shared by five doctors.
    She told the architect that she wanted an entrance that would give patients a sense of stability and confidence as soon as they arrived for their appointment. The ordinary front door was replaced with one made of stainless steel and resembled the vault of a bank. Then Cleo had the suite