“Promise,” Noah said, sighing. He sensed what was coming, and he felt like terminating the call.
“I would advise you to be careful with this person,” Leslie said. “Suddenly disappearing twice with no real explanation after you and she had been intimate and essentially living together, even if only for weeks, is not normal behavior by a long shot. And having it happen right after you made significant efforts on her behalf makes it even more bizarre. She sounds to me like a manipulative person, and if she is as manipulative as she sounds, she might have a personality disorder. What you have been describing is not normal behavior in the very beginning of a romantic relationship.
“Now,” Leslie continued, “I know I might sound as if I’m going out on a limb here when my only qualification is having taken an introductory 101 psychology course in college, but I can’t help it. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Noah said. He looked away. For a second he did not want to see Leslie’s knowing expression. He also knew Leslie was coming to her conclusions without being aware of any of the significant details of Ava’s life, which he didn’t feel comfortable revealing.
“I’m just trying to be honest with the facts you’ve given me,” Leslie said. “I hope I am wrong. But you didn’t tell me what she was doing on these two occasions she disappeared. Do you know?”
“Generally, I know,” Noah said. “She moonlights as a lobbyist for the nutritional-supplement industry.”
“Now, that is truly ironic,” Leslie said. Having lived with Noah and knowing full well his low opinion of what he called the thirty-four-billion-dollar-a-year snake-oil industry, the idea that he was dating someone who worked for them was farcical. “Where did she go?” she asked.
“On both trips she went to Washington, D.C.,” Noah said. He was thinking he wanted to get off the phone. His talk with Leslie wasn’t helping but rather making him more depressed, as she was lending credence to his own fears.
“From all that you have told me, it seems oxymoronic for a doctor to be working for the nutritional-supplement industry,” Leslie said. “At the same time, they must love her. Her credentials give them credibility they don’t deserve.”
“You got that right,” Noah said. “I think they keep pretty close tabs on her. Almost every night she gets at least one call, and apparently they pay her a king’s ransom. She could never afford the house she occupies on her faculty salary, nor the pleasure travel she does. But they get what they pay for. She is extremely intelligent, attractive, personable, has a good sense of humor, and has an undergraduate degree in nutrition, an M.D., and is on the BMH faculty. My sense is that she, and maybe she alone, keeps the politicians from altering the 1994 law that freed the industry from any sensible control by the FDA. She said as much.”
“Sounds like they hit a gold mine with her,” Leslie admitted. “I wish I could say the same for you. For self-preservation, I think you should take things slowly and very carefully and not let your needs and emotion overshadow your judgment. That’s my advice.”
“Thank you for your insight, Mother,” Noah said with obvious sarcasm, although he knew that she was most likely right. He hadn’t realized how much he needed love in his life before the chance meeting with Ava.
“You asked me to be honest,” Leslie said.
After he had terminated the FaceTime session, Noah tossed his cell across the room onto the threadbare couch as a controlled gesture of displeasure. The conversation wasn’t what he had hoped, and it stimulated him to remember other things about Ava that seemed mildly inconsistent, such as her keen social skills and ability to read people that contrasted with her mildly antisocial behavior in the hospital. It also seemed to clash with her professed preference for social media over face-to-face interactions. As their relationship grew, Noah had become progressively aware that she was not friendly with anyone in the hospital except him. At first he took this as a compliment and thought of it as another way they were similar. But as time had passed, he began to realize there was a difference. Noah was superficially friendly with everyone, whereas she kept everyone at arm’s length. And such thinking reminded him of something else he’d noticed reading her entries in the EMRs of Vincent, Gibson, and Harrison. Her syntax was somehow vaguely unique, which he had ended up attributing to her having trained in West Texas and not in one of the more mainstream academic medical centers.
Noah stood up and retrieved his phone. He almost wished the hospital would call him to give him an excuse to go back. Here it was almost seven o’clock on a Saturday night, and he had nothing to do. It was pathetic. He was even caught up on all his medical journal reading for the first time in his life. Finally, out of desperation he decided he’d go down to the popular bar at Toscano’s that he’d seen on all those evenings when he’d picked up take-out food. Maybe he’d feel hungry enough to eat something. Maybe he could even find someone who might be willing to talk with him.
24
SUNDAY, JULY 30, 4:12 P.M.
Despite being caught up with all his work, Noah managed to spend the entire Sunday in the hospital. There had been some interesting emergency surgery involving a group of bicyclists who had been run into by an aged driver who claimed he hadn’t seen them. He’d also reviewed all the surgical inpatients in the hospital by reading every EMR in their totality, which was something he had never done. He was amazed and disturbed at the number of minor problems he uncovered, which resulted in a flurry of emails to the involved residents demanding they be more attentive to details.
As Noah finished up Monday’s resident-assist surgical schedule, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Getting the phone out, he was taken aback to see it was a text from Ava. The text was equally terse as the one that he had gotten on Wednesday. All it said was: Arrived home. Exhausted but come over if you can.
For a few minutes Noah just stared at the nine words. He didn’t know what to think. There were certainly no endearments, but there was an invitation. The question was should he go, and if he did, when? Ultimately, he decided he would go but would keep Leslie’s cautionary words and his own misgivings in mind. Wishing to sound nonchalant and maintain some self-respect, he typed: Will be finishing up shortly. Will stop by. After reading it several times and deciding it was as emotionally noncommittal as her message, he sent it.
Almost immediately the thumbs-up emoji flashed onto his screen.