“Can you just steady these for me for a moment, darling? So I can take a few shots?”
“Robert, I . . .”
“Actually.” He was so caught up in the moment that he seemed not to notice her hesitation. “I need to hold them. You take the photos. This way, you can capture the full insertion, and an image of me removing the instruments. Just remember, the removal is quick, so be ready!”
Ruth steadied herself. She knew this was a pivotal moment in her husband’s work, and not only was she here to witness it, he was counting on her to capture it for the world to see. He needed her. She walked to the table and picked up the camera.
“Ready,” she said flatly as the room moved in and out of focus.
“Get in close enough to see how the instrument inserts,” Robert reminded her. A clammy sweat formed on her upper lip and brow, but she took the picture.
“Great. Now, here I go removing them . . . steady . . . okay, shoot.” Robert turned his face toward her, beaming at the camera like a movie star on the red carpet. Then the flash went off, and Ruth, unable to stomach the sight for a moment longer, collapsed on the floor.
Chapter Twenty-One
The following evening, Ruth walked to the carriage house excitedly. Robert had completed his first successful transorbital lobotomy and he was telling Edward the details about it before Edward’s new girlfriend arrived for their weekend stay. They knew better than to talk about lobotomy in front of her （it was a bit gruesome for those outside their line of work）， and her train was due to arrive soon.
Ruth had been surprised by what she had witnessed yesterday—particularly Robert’s chosen instrument to perform the procedure—but the end result had been a success. She was sure Edward would be as excited as she was. As she approached the door, she heard Edward yelling. She knew Robert was quick to rage, but never, in the ten years since Edward had become part of their lives, had Ruth heard Edward truly raise his voice. Until now.
“。 . . after I expressly told you over and over again that I didn’t agree with this!”
Ruth stood frozen outside the door, unable to stop herself from listening.
“I didn’t perform it in the hospital. You don’t have to have anything to do with it.”
“Please, Robert, we’re partners. And I’m supposed to be the surgeon. It’s one thing for you to take the scalpel in an operating room with me, and back up nurses and medical interventions in case of an accident. But here?”
“What about here? I am perfectly capable of treating my patients in my office and how dare you insinuate otherwise.”
“This is an outpatient office for psychiatry. It isn’t sterile. You don’t have the proper equipment. What would you have done if she’d had a seizure? An uncontrollable hemorrhage?” Edward’s tone shifted from angry to pleading.
“Those risks are rare anomalies. Alice Darner skipped out of here smiling.”
“Here we go again with your anomalies.”
“This is the future of lobotomy. The beauty is that I can perform it myself, any doctor can. And I can perform it here, in my office. I don’t need a hospital and I’m free to save as many people as there are hours in the day.”
“Robert, please. You need to hear me. I am not trying to stop progress. I just want to make sure what you’re doing is safe.”
Ruth was suddenly unnerved. Why was Edward reacting this way? Was he right that the procedure should not be performed in an outpatient setting? Should Ruth be more concerned?
But she had questioned Robert extensively over the past few weeks, as he discussed preparations to shift to this new technique. He assured her that the procedure was safe to perform in an office, and she had seen Alice Darner walk out of the carriage house with her own eyes. If Robert could continue to treat patients with the transorbital lobotomy, he could heal so many more people. Why, with the right press and attention, Emeraldine could grow to be one of the nation’s leading facilities for research and advancement on the treatment of mental illness. They might even attract enough funding for national expansion. Imagine how much good they could do with Emeraldine treatment facilities across the country! Ruth generally trusted Edward, but his response didn’t make any sense. Was it possible that something else was motivating it? Edward was always relegated to the second chair, tucked away behind Robert’s shadow. Could it be that his anger now was an expression of years of hidden resentment? It seemed so uncharacteristic, but Ruth couldn’t think of another explanation.