“You know, Robert, I thought it was a bit much when you did that to poor Estelle after the procedure, but it seems to have made a strong impression. You really do know how to engage an audience.” Ruth placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of her husband, who radiated like the sun in a cloudless sky. She paused to bask in his warmth and then settled herself in the seat across from him.
“‘In all my years covering medicine,’” Robert continued, “‘I can honestly say that I have never witnessed a breakthrough like this. The patient was giggling and gleeful as she calmly ate her salad and declared to the room that she felt better than she had in years. Dr. Robert Apter is undoubtedly a medical genius who has found, in his new “ice pick” lobotomy, a miracle cure.’” Robert slapped the paper down as he stood up. “A medical genius. A miracle cure!” Beaming, he grabbed Ruth by the hand, pulled her from her chair, and twirled her around the room before dipping her with dramatic flair and kissing her deeply. Ruth, as always, flooded with that feeling of gratitude for this exceptional man.
“All right, time to head to Emeraldine. I am sure the operators will be overwhelmed with calls from hospitals across the country looking to learn how to perform my ‘miracle.’” His smile stretched from ear to ear. “Ready, my dear?”
“Robert?” Ruth gave him a prompting look.
“What is it, dear? You look radiant as always. Now come along; if you want to drive together today, I need to get into the office tout de suite.”
“I’m still in my dressing gown!”
“Ah yes.” He chuckled as he actually took her in.
“I need a few minutes.”
“Sorry, I can’t wait. Work to be done, work to be done.” He picked up his briefcase and gave her a theatrical bow, as if he were tipping his hat, and whistling the seven dwarfs’ song from Snow White, he walked out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Our socials won’t be the same without you. It’s like we had our very own Andrews sister, right, Albert?” Ruth gave Estelle Lennox a heartfelt smile as she turned to Albert Burdell, one of the inmates with whom Estelle had become very close. “I know you are going to miss your singer a great deal.” He smiled and nodded with tears in his eyes.
Albert had been a patient at Emeraldine for nearly a year now. His family had him admitted for schizophrenia, although it was clear to Ruth that was not the malady he suffered from. Certainly, he’d experienced traumatic stress; that was evident from the scarring on his back and thighs, the flinching behind the eyes at sudden movements, his proclivity for nightmares. Still, he was a highly engaging and competent man. He was quite good-looking, tall and lean with thick brown hair that he slicked into a fashionable soft wave; he dressed impeccably and had an air of sophistication that reeked of generations of wealth. Yet, he was unpretentious. He never looked down upon the hospital’s other patients regardless of their background and was a kind and sought-after friend. He played the piano beautifully and had become Estelle’s accompanist and near-constant companion from the moment they met in the music room. At the monthly socials, all the patients congregated around Albert and Estelle, and the two seemed as if they had been friends for years.
Initially, Estelle’s father worried that they might have romantic feelings toward one another, but Ruth assured him Albert didn’t pay that kind of attention to the women at the hospital. Ruth did not judge Albert for being homosexual. In fact, when she understood that this was why he was at Emeraldine, she tried to convince him that he should leave the hospital to enjoy his life in the world—perhaps in Europe. In spite of what his family thought, Ruth knew all too well that it was possible to rise above that disapproval. She knew that one could still make a good life. Although, thankfully, when it came to her interests, no one had ever tried to “beat it out of her.”
“All right, well, that is the last of it. I’m afraid it is time to say goodbye, Albert.”