With their shared love of design, Robert and Helen had become quite close. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Robert and her father. Bernard had taken to Robert in the beginning, but in the past few months, Ruth had seen a change that made family visits even more unnerving. This evening, as they sat in the living room after dinner, with Helen and Ruth perched on the sleek, tightly upholstered sofa, and Bernard and Robert sitting in the leather and chrome Breuer chairs in front of the fireplace, Ruth felt an incredible tension building in the room.
“Father, you really should come to one of Robert’s weekend lectures. They tend to be a packed house.”
“Yes,” Robert said proudly. “Apparently they’ve become a popular date destination for medical students in the area. The New York School of Medicine has had to start issuing tickets in advance to ensure that everyone has a seat.”
“Tickets? For a medical school lecture? How absurd. Seems unlikely.”
“Bernard!” Helen gave Ruth’s father a disapproving look. “If he is telling you that it is the case, it surely is so. That’s exciting, Robert. Perhaps I should come as well?”
“The more the merrier. Although I should warn you that they can be a bit gruesome.”
“I am sure they would be of no interest to you, Helen,” Bernard barked gruffly.
“Well, even if they aren’t for Mother, you would surely enjoy them, Father. Robert puts on quite a show. It’s amazing how completely he can engage these students.”
“A show? Since when did medical school need to be a show?”
“Sir, it doesn’t need to, but I have come to believe that the more absorbed the class becomes in my presentation, the more they retain. It is amazing how watching me dissect the brain of a cadaver goes much farther toward piquing their interest in neurological anatomy than the illustration in the medical textbook.” Robert slid farther back in his chair, tugging gently on his goatee and taking a sip of his digestif.
“I would argue that only those who lack an ability to naturally engage their audience need to resort to shock to generate attention. But, if the college is pleased, it is really none of my business.”
Ruth watched Robert’s expression harden. It was as if, without lifting a finger, her father had smacked him across the face. She knew this feeling all too well, but she hadn’t expected to see it elicited in Robert. She sat frozen, furious. She wanted to rail against her father but feared the consequences. Suddenly, her mother again stepped in.
“It is none of your business, Bernard.” Helen gave her husband a light but chastising look. “A cadaver. Surely a bit much for me to see, but I can imagine it is quite an event.” Ruth was overtaken by conflicting emotions: Gratitude that her mother took up Robert’s cause. Resentment that she had never done the same for Ruth.
“My students say that it is indeed.” Robert smiled at Helen. “Well, it is getting late. I would think you need to be getting home.” Robert stood, his voice colder and harder than Ruth had ever heard it before. “Helen, so lovely to see you as always.” He put out his hand and helped her up, ignoring Bernard as they made their way out of the living room and toward the door, leaving Ruth and Bernard momentarily alone.
“Father.” Ruth hesitated. Did she really want to risk inciting more ire? When he didn’t even look up, she continued. “That was a bit cruel. It would be nice to show Robert some support. He is a real asset to the hospital, you know.”
“Please, when I am confronted with inanity, it is my duty to point it out. Any man who needs sycophancy to feel good about himself isn’t much of a man.”
Ruth simmered as Bernard stood and walked to the front door.
“Good night,” he said stiffly and generally, not shaking Robert’s hand, nor kissing Ruth’s cheek.
“Good night, dear.” Helen embraced her daughter awkwardly, and as her parents made their way down the steps into the chauffeured car, Ruth grabbed Robert’s hand and held it tightly.