I hadn’t thought of that.
“It’s possible that your migraines are caused by the gunshot wound to your head or another physical problem, but I would like you to consider the possibility that they’re psychosomatic, and that what you’re really experiencing are sublimated panic attacks generated by guilt over your wife’s miscarriage, and consequently, current fear for your wife and unborn child. That might be why the nearer she comes to term, the worse the headaches get.”
“My headaches are panic attacks that last for weeks?”
“Possibly. Still, I think you should have tests run to rule out physical problems.”
“I already promised Kate I would.”
“Good. Our time is up, and anyway, I think we should call it a day now.”
“Me too.”
For the first time since our initial meeting, we shake hands.
10
Kate will have picked up her brother and sister from the airport by now. I agreed to meet them at five thirty, at a bar in our neighborhood, for a drink before dinner. I’m running late.
I find a parking space on Vaasankatu and walk into Hilpea Hauki-The Happy Pike-a little bar Kate and I enjoy and consider our local. Most of its sales are from imported designer beers. Its prices are higher than most of the other bars in the neighborhood, but because of it, Hilpea Hauki has a better clientele, a low-key and less than roaring drunk atmosphere. Kate also likes it because the bartenders are a well-educated bunch, and she can speak English with them. It’s a nice place for us to get out of the house and chat.
Kate, John and Mary are sitting at a corner table. The family resemblance is apparent. All three are tall, thin and rangy, have pale complexions and cinnamon-red hair-Kate’s in a chignon, Mary’s long and pulled back into a ponytail, John’s shoulder-length and also pulled back. Mary is twenty-four but looks older, except for young, dancing eyes. John is twenty-three, but looks younger, except for old, unwavering eyes.
I lean over, give Kate a peck on the lips and introduce myself to the others. John stands, shakes my hand and grins. He’s got a rebel style with a pricey slant to it. He wears a leather jacket, jeans and cowboy boots, but the leather jacket is soft, expensive and Italian, the jeans Diesels, the boots Sedona West full-quill ostrich. Fancy garb for an academic. I take it he pictures himself a ladies’ man. He’s a little unsteady, appears to have had a few drinks on the plane. Mary shoots John a disapproving glance because of his wobbling, but her smile toward me is warm. She stands, too, leans across the table and hugs me.
Mary is more understated than her brother. She has on a long, dark dress and no makeup, but her excited smile says she’s thrilled to be here. Her plain wool coat hangs on a wall hook beside a Ralph Lauren overcoat, which I assume is John’s. “So you’re the man who stole my sister’s heart,” Mary says.
She seems pleasant. Maybe my misgivings about having them here for an extended stay were misplaced. “I think it was the other way around,” I say.
Kate has her hands folded on her pregnant belly. Her chair can’t quite fit at the table because of it. She’s resplendent in a green dinner dress. She worked hard at finding clothes she likes while she’s pregnant. She smiles. “No, it wasn’t.”
They must have just arrived, they don’t have drinks in front of them yet. “What can I get everyone?” I ask.
“A Jaffa for me,” Kate says.
“What’s that?” Mary asks.
“Orange soda,” I say. “It’s Finland’s most popular soft drink.”
“I’ll try one,” she says.
I hang my coat up beside Mary’s. “And for you, John?”
“What are you having?” he asks me.
“A lager and a Koskenkorva, Finnish vodka affectionately known to most of us as kossu.”
“I’ll have the same,” he says.
Now Mary’s disapproving look is for me. “You order two portions of alcohol at the same time?”