Melancholy Baby

I walked down the center of the library quadrangle and across the street to the lot where I’d parked. When I drove out of the lot I could see her up there, where I’d left her. Sitting on the bench, hunched a little against the coolness. Smoking.

10

“You’ve heard me speak of Tony Gault,” I said to Dr. Silverman.

“Yes.”

“He was in town again last week.”

Dr. Silverman nodded.

“We weren’t intimate.”

“Though you have been in the past?”

“Yes. Several times.”

Dr. Silverman nodded.

“In the past, did you enjoy intimacy?”

“Yes.”

“But not this time.”

“This time I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

Dr. Silverman smiled and waited.

“I don’t,” I said.

“What has changed?”

“Changed? For God’s sake, Doctor, you know what has changed. Richie got married.”

Dr. Silverman nodded.

“And what does that have to do with you and Tony Gault?”

“Well, for God’s sake, I can’t...”

Dr. Silverman was quiet, her big eyes resting on me without movement, her hands settled quietly in her lap. She had a wide mouth and her lips were full. She was wearing a dark suit today. She didn’t wear a wedding ring. I wondered if she was married. I wondered if she had a boyfriend. I wondered if she colored her hair. She must. She was definitely old enough to be coloring her hair. Great body, though. She must work out a lot. She probably had a boyfriend. Probably some Harvard geek.

Dr. Silverman smiled and tilted her head forward a little.

“You can’t...?” she said.

“Well, I mean I don’t want to get involved with Tony Gault.”

“Had that been a problem previously?”

“Involvement?” I said.

“Has he previously wanted more than intimacy?”

“No.”

“Then?” Dr. Silverman said. “This time?”

“Well, Richie was married.”

“Did Tony know that?”

“No.”

Dr. Silverman was quiet for a moment. So was I. Then she leaned toward me a little more and smiled widely. It was a genuine smile, full of warmth and interest.

“So,” Dr. Silverman said. “What’s up with that?”

I was quiet for a while.

Then I said, “But I knew that.”

Dr. Silverman nodded.

“You’d think it would be the other way around,” I said.

Dr. Silverman didn’t say anything.

“You’d think once Richie was gone,” I said, “that I’d be more willing.”

Dr. Silverman was quiet.

“But I’m not,” I said.

Dr. Silverman might have nodded. It was so slight a nod that I wasn’t sure.

“Not just Tony,” I said. “I don’t feel like I want to be intimate with anybody.”

Another nod... maybe.

“I have been...” I said. “I’ve been intimate with a number of men since the divorce.”

Nod?

“Including Richie,” I said.

Dr. Silverman seemed comfortable, tipped back in her chair slightly. Her hands were motionless in her lap. She seemed interested, in a pleasant, noncommittal kind of way. She was agreeable, but she was silent. I wanted her to talk. I wanted her to explain me. I didn’t know what to say. Dr. Silverman didn’t seem to mind. She was comfortable with the silence.

“Richie was protection,” I said.

She leaned forward a little.

“Tell me about that,” she said.

“As long as he was... as long as I could love him, even though we were divorced, I was safe. I could go out with other men, have sex, whatever. And I would not have to worry about anything beyond that.”

“What might be beyond that?” Dr. Silverman said.

I was quiet. Then I said, “Marriage, I guess.”

11

Of the twelve names I had wrenched from Sarah, four were still around. One of them was Bobby O’Brien, the name she’d mentioned first. I talked with him at the pub in the student union at Templeton College.

“You sure don’t look like a detective,” Bobby said.

“I’m in disguise,” I said.

“It’s working good,” Bobby said.

He was a chunky kid with a rust-colored crew cut and a flat nose.

“You look like a hockey player,” I said.

“Yep.”

“How are you in the corners?” I said.

Bobby grinned. “Terrifying,” he said.

“You went to school with Sarah Markham,” I said.

“Sarah? Sure. First grade on.”

“Do you see much of her anymore?”

He shook his head.

“Tell me about her.”

“Whaddya want to know?” Bobby said.

“Anything you can tell me. What she was like, what her family is like, anything that strikes you.”

“And why do you want to know?”

I thought about it. No one had sworn me to secrecy, and the more the question was out there, the more chance that someone might think of something.

“We’re trying to establish if she’s adopted.”

“Adopted?”

“Yes.”

“She doesn’t know?”

I shook my head.

“Her mother and father don’t know?”

“They say she’s not adopted. We’re just trying to establish it for sure.”

“Man,” Bobby said. “That’s weird.”

“Because?” I said.

“I mean, you live your whole life with your mother and father, and then you all of a sudden think maybe they’re not? What the hell is that about?”

“We’re looking into that,” I said. “What was she like in school?”

“Fine. She was pretty smart, and kind of popular and, you know, was part of the right group until maybe seventh grade.”

“And then?”

“She started hanging with the frazz-outs.”

“Frazz-outs?”

“Losers, dopeheads, dropouts, the bad crowd.”

“Oh,” I said, “those frazz-outs. She do drugs?”