“I can see why it’s your favorite room,” Noah said. “I think it would be mine, too, if I had the time. Are you a gamer?”
“Not as much as I used to be as a teenager,” Ava said. “But I still play once in a blue moon, mostly League of Legends, despite the misogyny involved. From your reaction, I guess you’re a gamer, too.”
“I used to be,” Noah said. “I played League of Legends when it first came out while I was in medical school, but not since becoming a resident. No time.”
“I didn’t play when I was a resident, either,” Ava said.
“This setup certainly suggests you play more than occasionally,” Noah said. “What level did you get to?”
“Silver Two, but I haven’t kept it up. Instead, I’m into virtual reality. I also use the system every day for MOCA. Are you familiar with MOCA, Maintenance of Certification for Anesthesia?”
“Of course,” Noah said. He knew that the various specialty boards in medicine, such as the American Board of Anesthesia, require its diplomats to recertify every ten years. One way to do it was online, but Noah was aware most people put it off until the last few months and then binged. The fact that Ava was doing it every day was a sign of true commitment. “And you really do it every day?” Noah asked, just to be sure.
“Every day without fail,” Ava said. “Even when I’m traveling. I have to be up on all the latest trends. Plain and simple, I make a real effort to be the very best anesthesiologist possible.”
“I hear you,” Noah said. “I feel the same about surgery. Seems that we are equally committed to our specialties, like two peas in a pod.”
Ava laughed in her unique fashion. “Two peas in a pod! I love that metaphor. We share a definite similarity, knowing your reputation. But to be completely honest, the MOCA only takes me about a half-hour a day. What I mostly use this setup for nowadays is social media, which I do most every day. I know it’s a bit of overkill for just social media, but what can I say.”
“What do you mean by ‘social media’? Like Facebook?”
“The entire gamut: Facebook, my YouTube channel, Snapchat, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest . . . you name it. But mostly Facebook, which certainly dates me. To tell you the truth, social media has become my game of choice. When I was a teenager in the late nineties I got addicted to SixDegrees and AOL Instant Messenger for social reasons to manage my reputation, or so I thought, which in retrospect was a disaster, as it truly took over my life in a bad way. Now I’m addicted to it as entertainment and to stay connected. I’m fascinated by it like a lot of people. It is certainly driving our culture.”
“You mean you go on it every day?”
“Usually,” Ava said. “And even at the hospital, I occasionally sneak a peek on my mobile in between cases to respond to snaps and tweets. When I’m here in the house, I’m either working out, doing MOCA, eating, or doing social media. What can I say? I’m addicted, I admit, but I tell you, I have learned more about myself doing social media than I would have if I’d spent years doing psychoanalysis.”
“Really?” Noah questioned with skepticism. “I think you’d have to explain that to me. I mean, I use Facebook and Snapchat a bit, but I don’t think I have learned anything about myself from doing it.”
“I’d be happy to explain,” Ava said. “But that will take some time. I think we should stick to the M&M problem for now.”
“You are so right,” Noah said. He felt his pulse rise. As entertained as he was by Ava and her impressive house, it had momentarily slipped his mind why he was there. “Where should we sit?”
“Before we get down to business,” Ava said, “would you like to see some of the capabilities of my computer system, particularly in virtual reality? It will only take a moment if you are interested.”
“Sure,” Noah said. “Why not?”
Ava had Noah sit in the chair in front of the three monitors. Leaning over him, she booted up the system. Noah couldn’t help but notice she had not bothered to put in a decent security code, as she awakened the computer by merely typing the number 1 six times. Yet he wasn’t surprised. When he’d first entered the building he’d noticed her newly renovated house had a modern and highly sophisticated security system.
For the next sixty seconds Noah was treated to a display of graphics and audio that took his breath away. “Okay, I’m convinced,” he said when the demonstration was over. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “It’s terrific, and I’m jealous. I’ve got to have a system like this before I die.”
Ava laughed. She was pleased. “I can put you in touch with the people who installed it if you’re serious,” she said.
“Maybe in a year,” Noah said. He could at least dream.
“Anytime you’re ready,” Ava said. Then she pointed upstairs. “There are two more floors, but it’s just bedrooms and bathrooms, boring stuff. But I will be happy to show it to you if you would like.”
“Thank you, but no, thanks,” Noah said. “I’m overwhelmed as it is.”
“Okay, let’s get down to work. How about we sit in the office? For just relaxing and chilling, that’s my favorite room.”
“Sounds good to me,” Noah said.
They left the computer room and walked back into the study. It was getting dark outside, and through the elm trees in the square Noah could see that lights had come on in the buildings on the other side of the greensward.
“You didn’t say what you would like to drink,” Ava said, but before Noah could respond, she added, “Wait a second! What a terrible host. I didn’t think to ask whether you have eaten dinner tonight.”
“No, I haven’t,” Noah admitted. There were lots of nights he just skipped dinner when he got back to his apartment from the hospital.
“Nor have I,” Ava said. “How about we rectify that? Do you like Thai food?”
“Who doesn’t like Thai food?” Noah questioned.
“I’ll call down to King and I on Charles Street and order take-out. And if you wouldn’t mind walking down there and getting it, I’ll have a chance to jump in the shower and become a bit more presentable.”
“Happy to go,” Noah said. All at once, he realized he was starving.
9
FRIDAY, JULY 7, 9:42 P.M.