don’t think I have the strength to tell that story again.”
“If it’s any help,” I offer, “I think communication is the key. Go to this teacher, talk to her, and listen. Maybe you’re taking two different approaches to the same problem.”
Becky tilts her head and smiles. “You know, for a shrink who didn’t hear a word I said, that’s pretty good advice.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
“I’m going to pay you with something different. Here.”
From the depths of her voluminous purse, Becky pulls out a green plastic figure that at first appears to be all arms, legs, and eyes. She drops it on the table in front of me. “Don’t you recognize him?”
I pick up the figure and run my thumb over the soft vinyl. “Didn’t he used to have a TV show?”
“I think so. Or maybe it was a commercial.”
“Gumshoe? Gummy?”
She hits me with a triumphant smile. “Gumby. Remember him? I used to love this little guy.”
“And you’re giving me this because…”
“Because you need a little laughter in your life, girlfriend. You’ve been entirely too intense lately.”
I lift my hand, about to argue that it’s not easy to be the life of the party when you deal with depressed patients all day, but something about Gumby and his little yellow smile chases the impulse away.
I stand Gumby on his legs and walk him over the table. “I can’t wait to show Elvis.”
“That’s another thing,” Becky says, her voice deepening with concern. “You need another confidant. Elvis is a wonderful dog, but he’s not human.”
“But you are. And I have you.”
“Yes…and many a time I’ve worried that we have strayed too far outside a proper psychologist-receptionist relationship.”
I glance up, afraid she’s being serious, but the light of humor dances in her eyes. “Are you saying I need to get out more?”
“Exactly. It’s what you’d tell a patient in the same situation. You need to develop outside interests, tackle a project, maybe take a vacation.”
“Funny you should say that.” I give her a smile as I drop Gumby into my purse. “I’ve been thinking along those very same lines.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sarah
A light rain is sending long, hesitant runnels down the windowpanes by the time I return to the operations room. When I take my seat at my station, I find an urgent message from Raven, one of my contacts at the DS&T. He wants to see a revised version of the Gutenberg program ASAP, so I create a zip file with the latest incarnation and send it over a secure connection. He should find no problems with it, but I’m not ready to stake my reputation on its reliability.
When I am sure the file has been sent and received, I log on to Intelink and search for “Renee OR Rene OR Renae Carey.” No hits, but I shouldn’t have expected any if the woman doesn’t work for the company.
At his station, Judson begins to chuckle. I ignore him, but after a minute he pulls one of his earphones from his head and turns his face toward me. “Hey, kiddo. I’ve got an IM here from Raven.”
“I’ve already sent the file he wanted.”
“He doesn’t want to know about the file. He’s asking me if you’re good-looking. Obviously—” he cackles with barely-restrained glee “—this guy doesn’t have a clue about the Candyman.”
I stop scanning my monitor and stare at Judson, momentarily overcome by the irony. “Tell him,” I finally say, “that your partner is drop-dead gorgeous.”
“What if he wants details?”
I blow out a breath. “Eyes, cheeks, nose—I’ve got ’em. You have the gift of elaboration. You fill in the details.”
“That I can do.” Judson flashes me a white smile, then readjusts his headphones and snaps at his keyboard, his fingers flying over the keys.
I draw a deep breath and return my attention to my computer screen. I’ll never understand why men are so focused on physical attractiveness, but as long as they are, I’ll have no choice but
“If it’s any help,” I offer, “I think communication is the key. Go to this teacher, talk to her, and listen. Maybe you’re taking two different approaches to the same problem.”
Becky tilts her head and smiles. “You know, for a shrink who didn’t hear a word I said, that’s pretty good advice.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
“I’m going to pay you with something different. Here.”
From the depths of her voluminous purse, Becky pulls out a green plastic figure that at first appears to be all arms, legs, and eyes. She drops it on the table in front of me. “Don’t you recognize him?”
I pick up the figure and run my thumb over the soft vinyl. “Didn’t he used to have a TV show?”
“I think so. Or maybe it was a commercial.”
“Gumshoe? Gummy?”
She hits me with a triumphant smile. “Gumby. Remember him? I used to love this little guy.”
“And you’re giving me this because…”
“Because you need a little laughter in your life, girlfriend. You’ve been entirely too intense lately.”
I lift my hand, about to argue that it’s not easy to be the life of the party when you deal with depressed patients all day, but something about Gumby and his little yellow smile chases the impulse away.
I stand Gumby on his legs and walk him over the table. “I can’t wait to show Elvis.”
“That’s another thing,” Becky says, her voice deepening with concern. “You need another confidant. Elvis is a wonderful dog, but he’s not human.”
“But you are. And I have you.”
“Yes…and many a time I’ve worried that we have strayed too far outside a proper psychologist-receptionist relationship.”
I glance up, afraid she’s being serious, but the light of humor dances in her eyes. “Are you saying I need to get out more?”
“Exactly. It’s what you’d tell a patient in the same situation. You need to develop outside interests, tackle a project, maybe take a vacation.”
“Funny you should say that.” I give her a smile as I drop Gumby into my purse. “I’ve been thinking along those very same lines.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sarah
A light rain is sending long, hesitant runnels down the windowpanes by the time I return to the operations room. When I take my seat at my station, I find an urgent message from Raven, one of my contacts at the DS&T. He wants to see a revised version of the Gutenberg program ASAP, so I create a zip file with the latest incarnation and send it over a secure connection. He should find no problems with it, but I’m not ready to stake my reputation on its reliability.
When I am sure the file has been sent and received, I log on to Intelink and search for “Renee OR Rene OR Renae Carey.” No hits, but I shouldn’t have expected any if the woman doesn’t work for the company.
At his station, Judson begins to chuckle. I ignore him, but after a minute he pulls one of his earphones from his head and turns his face toward me. “Hey, kiddo. I’ve got an IM here from Raven.”
“I’ve already sent the file he wanted.”
“He doesn’t want to know about the file. He’s asking me if you’re good-looking. Obviously—” he cackles with barely-restrained glee “—this guy doesn’t have a clue about the Candyman.”
I stop scanning my monitor and stare at Judson, momentarily overcome by the irony. “Tell him,” I finally say, “that your partner is drop-dead gorgeous.”
“What if he wants details?”
I blow out a breath. “Eyes, cheeks, nose—I’ve got ’em. You have the gift of elaboration. You fill in the details.”
“That I can do.” Judson flashes me a white smile, then readjusts his headphones and snaps at his keyboard, his fingers flying over the keys.
I draw a deep breath and return my attention to my computer screen. I’ll never understand why men are so focused on physical attractiveness, but as long as they are, I’ll have no choice but
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