Robin Cook: Chromosome 6

“Maybe you should put off the meeting you’ve planned with the new prospective doctor,” Darlene suggested.

“I think you’re right,” Raymond said. “In this state, I probably couldn’t convince anyone to join our group even if they were on their way to bankruptcy court.”

MARCH 4, 1997

7:00 P.M.

NEW YORK CITY

LAURIE finished preparing the salad greens, put a paper towel over the bowl, and slipped it into the refrigerator. Then she mixed the dressing, a simple combination of olive oil, fresh garlic, and white vinegar, with just a touch of balsamic. She put that in the refrigerator as well. Turning her attention to the lamb loin, she trimmed off the small amount of fat the butcher had left, put the meat into a marinade she’d made earlier, and then stuck it into the refrigerator with the other makings. The last chore was preparing the artichokes. It took only a moment to cut off the excess base and a few of the large, stringy leaves.

Wiping her hands on the dish towel, Laurie glanced up at the wall clock. Familiar with Jack’s schedule, she thought it was exactly the time to call. She used the wall phone next to the sink.

As the connection went through, she could imagine Jack coming up the cluttered stairwell in his dilapidated building. Although she thought she understood why he’d originally rented his apartment, she had trouble comprehending why he stayed. The building was so depressing. On the other hand, as she glanced around at her own flat, she had to admit, there wasn’t a lot of difference once Jack got inside his unit except he had almost double the space.

The phone rang at the other end. Laurie counted the rings. When she got to ten she began to doubt her familiarity with his schedule. She was about to hang up when Jack answered.

“Yeah?” he said unceremoniously. He was out of breath.

“Tonight’s your lucky night,” Laurie said.

“Who is this?” Jack asked. “Is that you, Laurie?”

“You sound out of breath,” Laurie said. “Does that mean you lost at basketball?”

“No, it means I ran up four flights of stairs to get the phone,” Jack said. “What’s happening? Don’t tell me you’re still at work?”

“Heavens, no,” Laurie said. “I’ve been home for an hour.”

“So why is this my lucky night?” Jack asked.

“I stopped by Gristede’s on the way home and picked up the makings of your favorite dinner,” Laurie said. “It’s all ready to go into the broiler. All you have to do is shower and get yourself down here.”

“And I thought I owed you an apology for laughing at the vanishing mafioso,” Jack said. “If amends are needed it’s surely from my side.”

“There’s no atonement involved,” Laurie said. “I would just enjoy your company. But there’s one condition.”

“Uh-oh,” Jack said. “What?”

“No bike tonight,” Laurie said. “You have to come by cab or the deal’s off.”

“Taxis are more dangerous than my bike,” Jack complained.

“No argument,” Laurie said. “Take it or leave it. If and when you slide under a bus and end up on a slab in the pit, I don’t want to feel responsible.” Laurie felt her face flush. It was an issue she didn’t even like to joke about.

“Okay,” Jack said agreeably. “I should be there in thirty-five to forty minutes. Shall I bring some wine?”

“That would be great,” Laurie said.

Laurie was pleased. She’d been unsure if Jack would accept the invitation. Over the previous year they had been seeing each other socially, and several months ago, Laurie had admitted to herself that she’d fallen in love with him. But Jack seemed reluctant to allow the relationship to progress to the next level of commitment. When Laurie tried to force the issue, Jack had responded by distancing himself. Feeling rejected, Laurie had responded with anger. For weeks, they only spoke on a professional basis.

Over the last month their relationship had slowly improved. They were seeing each other again casually. This time Laurie realized that she had to bide her time. The problem was that at age thirty-seven it was not easy. Laurie had always wanted to become a mother someday. With forty fast approaching, she felt she was running out of time.

With the dinner essentially prepared, Laurie went around her small one-bedroom apartment straightening up. That meant putting odd books back into their spots on the shelves, stacking medical journals neatly, and emptying Tom’s litter box. Tom was her six-and-a-half-year-old tawny tabby who was still as wild as he’d been as a kitten. Laurie straightened the Klimt print that the cat always knocked askew on his daily route from the bookcase to the top of the valence over the window.

Next Laurie took a quick shower, changed into a turtleneck and jeans, and put on a touch of makeup. As she did so she glared at the crow’s feet that had been developing at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t feel any older than when she’d gotten out of medical school, yet there was no denying the advance of years.

Jack arrived on schedule. When Laurie looked through the peephole, all she could see was a bloated image of his broadly grinning face, which he had positioned a mere inch from the lens. She smiled at his antics as she undid the host of locks that secured her door.

“Get in here, you clown!” Laurie said.

“I wanted to be sure you recognized me,” Jack said as he stepped past her. “My chipped, upper-left incisor has become my trademark.”

Just as Laurie was closing her door she caught a glimpse of her neighbor, Mrs. Engler, who’d cracked her door to see who was visiting Laurie. Laurie glared at her. She was such a busybody.

The dinner was a success. The food was perfect and the wine was okay. Jack’s excuse was that the liquor store closest to his apartment specialized in jug wine, not the better stuff.

During the course of the evening, Laurie had to continually bite her tongue to keep the conversation away from sensitive areas. She would have loved to talk about their relationship, but she didn’t dare. She sensed that some of Jack’s hesitance stemmed from his extraordinary personal tragedy. Six years previously, his wife and two daughters had been tragically killed in a commuter-plane crash. Jack had told Laurie about it after they had been dating for several months, but then refused to talk about it again. Laurie sensed that this loss was the biggest stumbling block to their relationship. In a way, this belief helped her to take Jack’s reluctance to commit himself less personally.

Jack had no trouble keeping the conversation light. He’d had a good evening playing pickup basketball at his neighborhood playground and was happy to talk about it. By chance he’d been teamed up with Warren, an all-around impressive African-American, who was the leader of the local gang and by far the best player. Jack and Warren’s team didn’t lose all evening.

“How is Warren?” Laurie asked. Jack and Laurie had frequently double-dated with Warren and his girlfriend, Natalie Adams. Laurie hadn’t seen either of them since before she and Jack had their falling-out.

“Warren’s Warren,” Jack said. He shrugged. “He’s got so much potential. I’ve tried my best to get him to take some college courses, but he resists. He says my value system isn’t his, so I’ve given up.”

“And Natalie?”

“Fine, I guess,” Jack said. “I haven’t seen her since we all went out.”

“We should do it again,” Laurie said. “I miss seeing them.”

“That’s an idea,” Jack said evasively.

There was a pause. Laurie could hear Tom’s purring. After eating and cleaning up, Jack moved to the couch. Laurie sat across from him in her art-deco club chair she’d purchased in the Village.