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She began by allotting Mom and Dad equal time, shifted gradually to spending more time with Mom, finally moved Dad out of the picture by placing him in a corner of an attic room where he remained in the company of random, plastic furniture.
At some level, grasping the basics.
So much more was yet to come.
—
Just as I finished my notes, I got a call from Sean Binchy.
Assigned to paperwork. Had something new emerged in Conrad Deeb’s background?
I said, “Hey, Sean, what’s up?”
“Doc,” he said, “would it be okay if we could talk? Just for a few minutes.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“Um, I was thinking in person?”
“No prob. What works for you?”
“Well,” he said, “I’m actually on my way home and Waze says the Glen’s the best way to get to the Valley, so I thought…”
“I’ll be here, Sean.”
“You’re sure, Doc? Don’t want to impose.”
“Couldn’t be surer.”
“Thanks, Doc. See you soon.”
Driving here first, then calling to see if I was free.
Something bugging Sean.
He’d been happy with Larry Daschoff, I couldn’t see that going bad.
I stayed curious during the four minutes it took for my doorbell to ring.
When I opened the door he tugged at his tie and shuffled his Docs and said, “I really do hope I’m not intruding.”
“Happy to see you, Sean. C’mon in.”
—
I offered him something to drink.
“No, I’m fine, Doc, thanks a ton.”
My battered leather couch hosted a new body without complaint. The one time I’d seen Sean since his return from vacation, I hadn’t noticed that he’d lost weight. Always lean, he was now verging on bony. Slight hollowing of the cheeks, more jutting of the Adam’s apple, newcontouring of the boyish, freckled face. As if he’d submitted to a sculptor’s blade.
He said, “Again, thanks…I don’t want to cause any problems for you and I appreciate that you got me Dr. Daschoff and he’s been super, really helpful. But are you also…wow, I don’t know how to say this.”
He puffed his lips. “I don’t want to offend you…”
“No offense possible, Sean. What’s on your mind?”
“Okay.” Two deep breaths. “Do you and Dr. Daschoff talk? About me?”
