The Harem (25 page)

After a pause, Chantelle looked me in the eyes.

“I’m… happy for you, Sheremy. I hope it works out… with this other person.”

I wondered what she meant by this. Was she saying that she wanted me to wait for her?

“Very good, Jeremy,” Dr. Billingsley said. “Would you like to talk to your father now?”

I nodded my head.

“OK, Jeremy, very good. Now I want you to take a deep breath and imagine that your father is here sitting in front of you,” Dr. Billingsley said.

I shut my eyes.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hello, Jeremy. It’s so good to see you. Stand up, son.”

I stood up from my chair and Dr. Billingsley put his arms around me. I embraced him, resting my forehead on his shoulder. Say what you will about this unsmiling academic man, Dr. Billingsley did more for me in that one silent embrace than years of therapy could have achieved. He gave me the chance to hug my father again and say goodbye to him.

After the embrace, I realized I had dampened his white coat with my tears. He continued to hold me, pressing the fingers of his long hands firmly into my shoulders. Tears continued to spill from my eyes as he spoke.

“I can only stay for a few minutes, son. I know you feel responsible for my death and regret not being there to—”

“I was such a disappointment as your son...”

“No, Jeremy. No. You were the best son a father could have. I never told you about my heart condition. How could you have known? Your mother and I just didn’t want to worry you. You had just gotten married when I had my first minor heart attack. You were just getting your life going and had your new wife to take care of. Please don’t feel guilty about my death. I died doing exactly what I wanted to be doing, mowing my yard with that old push mower you and your mother hated so much. I bought that mower back when I was a resident. I don’t know why I loved the old rusted thing so much. My cardiologist explicitly told me to not exert myself, but did your old man listen to him? You’re carrying around all this guilt, Jeremy, but it wasn’t your fault at all. If it wasn’t the mower, I’d have done something else that would’ve burned out the old ticker. I want you to know how proud I am of you, son. I heard you just wrote a novel too. You always were the creative one in the family. Your mother and I are so proud of you…I’ve got to go now. Time to say our goodbyes. You’re a good boy, Jeremy. I love you, son.”

“I love you too, Dad... Goodbye…”

Dr. Billingsley embraced me once more. He released my shoulders and stepped away.

“You can open your eyes now, Jeremy. I’m proud of you. You did very well.”

When I opened my eyes, Dr. Bichon was standing close by and held out a box of tissues. I dried my eyes and then took a deep breath. I felt a heavy weight had lifted off my shoulders.

“The therapeutic team that’s been treating you will meet to discuss your case later this afternoon, Jeremy. I think you’re ready to be discharged tomorrow. I’ll have one of the nurses come by your room later to tell you the results of our meeting. OK?”

“OK, Dr. Billingsley. Thank you.”

I shook the doctor’s hand and smiled at Dr. Bichon. She blinked her pretty eyes once and smiled, before I turned away to leave my last therapy session at Potomac Fields.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chantelle

In the afternoon we got slammed with intakes and didn’t have a chance to meet about Jeremy’s discharge until after 7. It was a fairly simple procedure. After I updated the staff on Jeremy’s progress, Dr. Billingsley proposed moving one of the more recently admitted patients out of the locked section of the clinic, since she had stabilized on her meds. When Dr. Billingsley asked if any staff had an objection to the plan, I shot lasers with my eyes at Head Nurse McAdams. He kept his mouth shut.

Early the next morning before rounds I stopped by Jeremy’s room. He was sitting patiently on his bed, impeccably dressed as usual, his suitcase packed.

He held his laptop in an attractive carrying case, strapped around his shoulder.

“Dr. Bichon! Bonjour.”

“Bonjour, Sheremy. When are you leaving?”

“I was told a cab would be here in a few minutes to pick me up…”

“I only have a minute, rounds are about to start. I wanted to tell you… what a pleasure it was to get to know you this week.”

“I enjoyed getting to know you too, Doctor. I suppose I have you to thank for my discharge,” Jeremy said, smiling.

“Now you can finish your novel in the comfort of your own home,” I said.

I handed him a pill jar of his medication.

“I thought I’d pick this up for you, so you didn’t have to stop at the pharmacy on the way out. I’ve given you three refills of Cymbalta, but at a much lower dosage. You’ll need to meet with your private physician to get a fourth refill.”

He took the meds.

“How very thoughtful of you. Dr. Bichon, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I like what you’ve done with your hair. You look very pretty this morning, if you don’t mind my saying so. The eye shadow brings out the beauty of your eyes too…”

I blushed and looked down. He noticed.

“Thank you, Sheremy… So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to take a cab out to BWI and catch a flight over to surprise my mom and spend Thanksgiving there with her and her sister. After that, who knows…?”

“Wonderful. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you…”

He stared at me with a relaxed and charming smile. I wondered if he could tell that I was nervous.

“Did you work on your novel last night?”

“Yes, thanks for asking, Dr. Bichon. But I’m having a little trouble with the ending.”

“Oh…”

“There are a few loose ends that are troubling me. The climax and resolution of the story depends completely on you, of course. And that notoriously fascist organization, the American Medical Association.”

I suddenly felt quite nervous. My stomach clenched, just like when I first saw him on Monday at group, after he winked at me.

“What do you mean?”

“The ending of The Harem depends upon whether you’ll open your heart, Chantelle…”

Once again, I didn’t know how to respond. I felt my cheeks grow warm. I just shook my head, smiled.

“Sheremy…”

I actually felt sad my patient was leaving, but it was for the best. I took a step toward the door.

“Oh, before you go, Doctor, please look inside the gap of the bed frame. I’ve taken off the silver top. Perhaps maintenance can fix it.”

I looked inside and saw a pile of white pills stacked inside.

“Sheremy, what are all those pills inside the bed frame”

“When I was given my medication, I hid the pills under my tongue and swallowed the cup of water, without ever swallowing the pills. Thinking I was totally out of it, the staff never checked under my tongue when they administered the meds. I stashed them all inside the hollow portion of this bed post. So, I won’t need this prescription,” Jeremy said, handing me back the pill jar.

“Sheremy, that’s… remarkable! Are you telling me that you were able to recover from your depression without the use of anti-depressants?”

Jeremy leaned forward and whispered very softly into my ear.

“One look from you, and I was cured, Chantelle. You are my anti-depressant, Dr. Bichon. I only wish I could bring you home with me hidden under my tongue and take you into my mouth two to three times daily…”

My heart raced and my head spun as I listened to his seductive words.

Jeremy looked me deeply in the eyes with such a passionate desire it made me blush. I had no other choice but to break eye contact and look down. It was the sexiest and most romantic thing a man had ever said to me. Once again, my patient had rendered me speechless. I could tell he knew I felt uncomfortable, so he graciously broke the long silence.

“I think my cab is supposed to be here in a minute. Do you have time to walk me out?”

“Sure.”

We walked silently through the ward, our heels clicking in unison on the white tiled hallway that smelled strongly of Lysol. I unlocked the main door into the psychiatric ward and freed Jeremy from Potomac Fields. His cab was waiting at the curb. Jeremy held out his hand and I shook it. My eyes watered.

“I assume you never showed Dr. Billingsley the contents of my novel, or else I guess I’d be tied up to the table right now, with several thousand volts of electricity surging through my brain.”

I smiled, trying not to allow a tear to escape down my cheek.

“Don’t worry, Sheremy. After I read your manuscript Tuesday night, for your protection and the confidentiality of your work, I deleted it from my computer.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best. Thank you, Doctor.”

He opened the door of the cab.

“Sheremy…”

He turned back to me, raising his eyebrows in that innocent, flirtatious way of his.

“Yes, Doctor Bichon?”

“Oh, nothing… Au Revoir.”

He got in and looked at me once more as the cab drove away.

I went back to work, trying to put thoughts of Jeremy aside. After finishing my rotation at Potomac Fields, I took time off to study for my Boards. By the start of my vacation, I was both physically and emotionally exhausted.

I arrived in Nice and my parents picked me up at the airport. It was so great to see my mom and dad again. We got kind of lucky with the weather. Though it was the rainy season, it was bright and sunny outside. I went to the beach every day with my parents to relax and read. I was having a nice, relaxing vacation.

About a week into my vacation, I was unwinding, staring out at the blue Mediterranean. I saw a person swimming, without a wet suit, in the cold December water. He made a turn and swam in a straight line toward the shore. The figure of a slender, lightly muscled man gingerly emerged onto the rocky shore in tight swimming trunks. He walked toward me.

The sun was at an angle shining directly into my eyes and I didn’t have my contacts on, so the figure looked a little hazy to me. I put my hand up to shade my eyes from the glare of the sun. He seemed to be walking right toward us as if he wanted to ask us a question. My father and mother put down their books and sat up a little straighter.

My father asked in French if they could be of assistance.

When the man’s body blocked the glare of the sun, I was able to look up into his face. And I could not believe who I saw…

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jeremy

After a lovely Thanksgiving with my mother and aunt, I returned to Rockville for the first time since my incident. It was lonely there without my parents. I went over to the condo I had been living at with my wife on Montrose Avenue in the building I owned. She had moved all of her belongings out. There was no trace of her left in my life. I called our family lawyer to begin divorce proceedings, retroactive to the day of my father’s funeral. I called a moving company to transport my belongings to my parent’s house and told the apartment manager to clean and rent out the unit I had been living in. Apparently everything had gone smoothly in the time I was gone. All the rents were paid in full and outside of a few minor plumbing problems, there was nothing to discuss.

The building had 95 percent occupancy and the few free units were about to be rented, so I felt comfortable going away for a short trip. I gave the apartment manager a large bonus at Christmas.

I went home and ordered on line a Berlitz course to study basic French for the next three weeks and booked a one way ticket to Nice, France for 12/20. I also wrote down and committed to memory basic questions and expressions I would need to know.

It wasn’t difficult at all finding, Dr. Bichon. I just called the operator from a phone upon arriving at the Nice airport and asked for Chantelle’s street address.

“Puis-je avoir l’adresse municipal pour Chantelle Bichon, s’il vous plait?”

She still had an address listing with her parents in Nice. I gave the address to a cab driver and he dropped me off right on the coastline. I saw a beautiful hotel a few blocks away and checked in at a historic city landmark, Hotel Negresco, for my stay. Before retiring, I walked around and scoped out a cafe on the adjacent corner that had a view of the front of her building. It was my experience that every morning the locals in Nice could not start their day without a fresh baguette from their favorite boulangerie. All I would have to do is camp out and wait to see her. The weather was warm; perhaps she would be going to the beach the next day. I could finally see what she looks like under her heavily starched white coat. I grabbed a bite at the la brasserie in the hotel and slept pleasantly.

Just as I suspected, a little after 9 I saw her leave the front entrance of their condo and come back with an armful of baguettes for breakfast. A few hours later I saw her come back out with her parents, cross Promenade des Anglais and spread her beach blanket on the tiny pebble beach.

I ran upstairs, got changed and jumped into the sea about fifty feet away from where they had laid down their blanket. The water was extremely cold, but I hardly noticed, I was so excited about surprising Chantelle. I had on a short, tight swim suit I bought just for the occasion. I swam directly toward her, sidled out of the water and approached her family. At first I could tell she didn’t recognize me at all, squinting into the sun without her glasses. She looked very sexy in her two piece bikini and her light lip stick and eye shadow. Dr. Bichon had a nice curvy little body, which would make it difficult for me not to gawk at her in front of her parents. The look of recognition did not appear in her eyes until I towered over her, dripping wet. I think her father asked me if I needed help. I recited the expression I planned to say upon meeting Chantelle’s father.

“Je vous prie Monsieur de votre pardon, mais je crois que je sais que votre belle fille, Chantelle.” (I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe I know your lovely daughter, Chantelle.)

“Oh my God! Jeremy, is it you?”

“Yes, Ma Cherie.”

Chantelle jumped up excitedly and gave me an unexpectedly affectionate hug and kiss on each cheek. I felt her warm skin touch me for the first time and the tips of her breasts brush against my cold wet chest. I started shivering and she gave me a towel to dry off.