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  “After it ended, all I wanted was to go to sleep and hope I would be all right in the morning, so I wouldn’t have to tell my mother.”

  Dr. Speller started to talk, but Victoria hadn’t finished.

  “I had no idea what had happened. I walked around in a fog for days, hoping the tingling wouldn’t come back, but I couldn’t forget how good the release felt. I don’t know how any man can understand. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

  “It was masturbation and orgasm,” Dr. Speller said matter-of-factly.

  “Lorraine was useless. I had no girl cousins. My friends were all boys. What was I supposed to say?”

  Dr. Speller looked on sympathetically.

  “Don’t you understand? By the time girls in gym class were budding breasts and giggling about second base, I was fantasizing about someone touching my vagina. I didn’t connect sexual intercourse with that feeling until later. But by the time I was thirteen, I dreamt about sex night after night. I told myself it was because of what I did to my vagina—that no normal girl would feel this way. The feeling went on and on, even in my dreams, the release always accompanied by the fluid. I still don’t know what it means.”

  Dr. Speller said, “This explains why you feel so different from other young women, Victoria. No one told you that sexual longings can develop early, especially in tomboys. There’s a name for the spot inside the vagina where the ache comes from. It’s in all the women’s magazines—the G-spot, it’s called. Men have one, too, at the base of the prostate gland. This isn’t about good or bad; it’s about health. You have a very healthy sex drive. In fact, you have a lot of drive, period.”

  “And the fluid?”

  “It’s quite common and very normal.”

  “Really? How can you be sure?”

  “I’m a doctor. I read about it,” Dr. Speller said in his clinical mode. The next moment, he turned bright red.

  “What is it?” Victoria said.

  “Nothing.”

  “I know you better than that. Out with it.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve experienced it first-hand.” The mood changed instantly.

  “Oh, probably with that dark-haired woman of yours,” Victoria said with a smirk. “You can’t tell me it’s normal for a thirteen-year-old girl to be dreaming about having sex.”

  “It’s not as weird as you think, Victoria.”

  She liked the way he said her name. It reassured her that he wasn’t disgusted.

  He said, “However, you need to get a handle on your balance. It sounds like you don’t think it can be developed.”

  “Can it?”

  “You won’t know unless you try. Your natural gift is mental agility; lots of people would kill for your mind. But balance-wise, you have a handicap. That doesn’t mean you can’t work at it. You may never become as graceful as you want, but you’ll never improve unless you try.”

  “How would I do that?”

  “I treated someone who wanted to learn golf so he could play with his father and older brother. The trouble was that the man had horrible balance, which ruined his swing and his pleasure in being with the family. Instead of bemoaning his fate or giving up, he took ballet and strengthened his core. Yoga, too. It centered him. Now he enjoys the game.”

  “I’ll never be as graceful as I want.”

  “Probably not, but you can get better. So, stop complaining about being klutzy and work on becoming more graceful. It’s not that complicated.”

  “Are you sure I can really change?”

  “If I weren’t, I’d be doing something else with my life.”

  Victoria liked that Dr. Speller shared some of himself during the session. It meant he liked her.

  24

  Saturday, November 20, 2004

  “The conference couldn’t have gone any better,” Eddie told Jonas and Pete. “Everyone’s thrilled. People are still talking about yesterday, Jonas. They can’t wait to have you back. You sure know your medicine and psychiatry. What a dynamite combination.”

  “That’s right,” Pete said. “You told us a long time ago not to underestimate you.”

  “Time to celebrate,” Jonas said, hoping to shake off the malaise from his previous day’s pillow talk. “The girls gave us the night off. What do you say to some juicy steaks and a stint at the craps table?”

  “Feels like old times,” Pete said. “You know what I mean?”

  “Oh, I remember everything about that weekend.” Eddie said. “We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that, would we?”

  Saturday, October 8, 1983

  The minute the Philadelphia Phillies clinched the National League championship, Jonas’s telephone rang.

  It was Eddie. “Hey, Jo. What are you doing next weekend? Since I made partner, I get a few perks, including tickets for the Series. How about a birthday bash? That is, if you’ve got next weekend off.”

  “No problem. Between teaching and practice, I don’t have to moonlight anymore. Only I’m not third-generation Philadelphia, so I’m a psychiatric trash receptacle; I get the cases no one else wants. Not exactly what I had in mind.”

  “Dad won’t let that happen,” said Jennie, nestled comfortably next to him.

  “Listen,” Jonas said for both to hear. “I love Stan, but I have to be my own person. So, understand this, Edward Speller, Esquire. It’s only a matter of time before we contact a realtor who knows your neighborhood.” Jennie purred at we. “Are you serious about the tickets?”

  “Absolutely,” Eddie said. “Four on the third base line. Everyone here’s a Yankees fan, so they could care less. Who else should we invite?”

  “Bodenheim for sure.”

  “I already put him on yellow alert. What about Stan?”

  Jennie intervened, “That’s very considerate, Eddie, but Dad’s not really into baseball. Ask Steve Rothman? He’s a die-hard Phillies fan. I’ll make a dinner reservation at Victor’s for Saturday night. You know the place where the waiters and waitresses break out into arias. It’s time my parents met Eddie and Pete.”

  “Sounds great.” Eddie lowered his voice. “And leave time for you and me, Jonas. There’s something I want to discuss.”

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing that won’t keep until Friday.”

  Annoyed, Jonas said, “Whatever you say. I’ll call Steve tomorrow. Call me later in the week. Thanks for thinking of me.” He hung up abruptly.

  “What was that about?” Jennie said.

  “Eddie says he wants to talk about something, but he wouldn’t say what. I love him to death, Jen, but he has this way of upsetting me.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it worries me how your mood changes around him.”

  “He thinks it’s perfectly fine to stick his head into my business. If you had a sister who treated you like that, you wouldn’t like it, either.”

  Jennie curled her lip. “You’re wrong! You can’t imagine how much I’ve wanted a sister or a brother. Once, when I was at the Geneva airport, I saw two little children playing peekaboo; the way they giggled at each other made me want to cry. When the brother put his arm around his sister, I felt like part of me was missing. That day, I swore I would never have an only child.”

  “Of all places on Earth, Jen, how did your mother wind up in Switzerland?”

  “She did well in French and biology. She put the two together and applied to medical schools in Belgium and Lausanne. I asked her why they never had more children, but I never got a straight answer. She said there was a problem with her uterus, and that I should have mine checked out, which I did. Everything turned out to be fine. The best I can do now is to raise the family she never had. You’re lucky to have a brother who cares about you,” she said enviously. “Next weekend should be a celebration; don’t spoil it.”

  “You’re so good for me,” Jonas said. “No matter how far I stray, you always put me back on track.”

  Friday, October 14, 1983

  Eddie and his law firm associat
e, Pete Bodenheim, arrived early Friday afternoon. When Jonas caught up with them for lunch, they were talking shop.

  “We were discussing mental damages,” Eddie said. “I told Pete what you said about the field changing.”

  Jonas said, “You’ll see. Chemical assays and brain scans will show how stress damages the brain. If I were a trader, I’d go long on psychiatry. Fortune smiles on the well-prepared.”

  Eddie squeezed a puddle of mustard onto his sandwich. “I’d take him seriously, Pete, if I were you.”

  “You realize the defense will try and pound any expert into scaloppini,” Pete said.

  “Don’t sell my brother short. A lot of people have tried and a lot of people lost.”

  “What is this?” Pete said. “Two on one?”

  “You stepped in it, pal,” Eddie said. “This isn’t some early-season game where Duke beats up on the Little Brothers of the Poor Community College.”

  “Knock it off, you two. You sound like braying jackasses,” Jonas gibed.

  Pete said, “That surprises you? We’re litigators. We fight all day.”

  “What a wonderful life,” Jonas joked. “Makes me want to pawn my stethoscope and take the LSAT. But listen up, Pete Bodenheim! Just because I never had to sink a foul shot in front of eleven thousand screaming maniacs at the Palestra, doesn’t mean you can sell me short on nerve. I can hang in there with the best. Remember Tau Delta Phi on Sansom Street? I took down the biggest poker pot ever played there, because I wouldn’t let those thugs push me around.”

  Eddie beamed. “Close to a thousand dollars. They shoulda put up a plaque. This isn’t college hoops anymore, Pete. We’re talking professionals.”

  “Listen,” Pete bristled. “Basketball taught me offense and defense. I prepare for trials like I did for games. I’ll be as ready for the big leagues as anyone. Don’t either of you doubt it.”

  “Congratulations, Pete,” Jonas cheered. “You’ve been drafted by the NBA.”

  “Huh?” Eddie and Pete said.

  “New York Bar Association,” Jonas said. “You’re our number-one pick.”

  Jonas and Eddie saluted Pete with another round of black cherry soda.

  Eddie said, “You know, if we set up shop carefully, we can take on all comers. Jonas needs experience in court. Pete can take the depositions and try the cases. I’m in the backcourt, calling the plays. I know we can do it.”

  Several sodas later the threesome bounded off to the Broad Street subway, looking more like a pack of horny teenagers than the future of American jurisprudence. Led by Steve, who joined the group at Veteran’s Stadium, the men raised their beers in an impromptu bachelor party.

  “Here’s to your birthday, Jonas,” they said as one. “And the end of an era: Your days as a single man are over.”

  “Welcome to the rest of your life,” Eddie teased.

  “What?” Jonas protested half-heartedly. “Who said anything about getting married?”

  “Married?” Steve feigned disbelief. “You already are. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

  Just before game time, an older man and a young couple descended the aisle on the way to their seats. The women wore a Phillies hat and Mike Schmidt jersey. Between innings she ascended the aisle and tried to hail a peanut vendor. Jonas did a double take. Victoria Schone smiled at him and his companions. Eddie, Pete, and Steve looked curiously at the attractive young woman who did not budge.

  Nodding at his companions, Jonas said, “Guys, this is Victoria Schone. Victoria, I’d like you to meet my brother, Eddie Speller, and my friends, Pete Bodenheim and Steve Rothman.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Victoria said.

  “So, how do you know each other?” Eddie said.

  “Dr. Speller’s my doctor.”

  Pete said, “Is he as good as he claims?”

  “He sure turned my life around.”

  “Thanks,” Jonas said. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Pete and Steve said. Eddie remained silent.

  “Go Phillies!” she said. “See you Monday,” she whispered to Jonas before leaving.

  Eddie said to Jonas, “That was Miss—”

  “Not now, Eddie.”

  Several uncomfortable innings later, Eddie broke the silence. “They’re talking like you and Jennie are a done deal.”

  “I’d rather you put it another way.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk with you about.”

  “I figured as much when you wouldn’t say anything on the phone with Jennie next to me. Let me enjoy the rest of the game in peace, Eddie. Then we’ll talk.”

  25

  Friday, October 14, 1983

  The game remained tight until the Orioles, Jonas’s home team, went ahead for good in the top of the seventh inning. Afterward, everyone headed to Jonas’s neighborhood tavern for a beer. Later, Eddie went along to Jonas’s apartment.

  “Thanks for the terrific evening, Eddie,” Jonas said.

  “I have this picture, too,” Eddie said, looking their father’s portrait. “I have to hand it to you, brother,” he added, noting several pastel landscapes hanging over the couch and loveseat. “Compared to when you moved in, this place definitely has a woman’s touch.”

  “These are Jennie’s paintings. Aren’t they fabulous?” Jonas crowed. “Look at the colors. And the intensity. Just so you know, she’s moving in next month.”

  “Did I miss something? There’s no rush, is there?”

  “I didn’t get her pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking. Look, Eddie. It’s late. If you have something to say about Jennie, please say it.”

  Eddie turned to the picture of their father and paused thoughtfully. “C’mon, Jonas,” he said. “Be honest. What are you doing with her?”

  “Doing with her? What kind of question is that?”

  “I’m trying to tell you I’m concerned. Are you sure you’re ready? Jennie’s a terrific girl; I know how fond you are of her and her family. But fond isn’t enough to get you through the tough times. It doesn’t take Sigmund Freud to know that a big reason you’re with her is because of her family.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m with her because of her. Take one look at these walls and you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

  “There’s something missing. I saw it in your eyes tonight when you introduced your patient to us. That was her, wasn’t it? Miss Abington?”

  “Yes, it was her.”

  “Your faces lit up when you saw each other. I’ve never seen you look that way. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care about her.”

  “Care about her? I spend my life caring about people. Miss Abington is a fantasy.”

  “What I saw on your face tonight was very real.”

  “She has transference to me. I have countertransference to her transference.”

  “What a load of horseshit. You never use words like that and you know it. There’s something about her, isn’t there?”

  “Yes, there is. She’s full of life. She inspired me. She still does.”

  “And Jennie?”

  “It’s different with her. We love each other for real. You’ve spent a total of twelve hours with Jennie in three years. You don’t know what she’s like behind closed doors. Jennie’s got a helluva lot more oomph than you give her credit for.”

  “But what about Miss Abington?”

  “What about her? All my patients are special in their own way. I’m just a toll booth on their journeys.”

  “I’m not talking about all your patients. I’m talking about her. How can you be so sure?”

  “Sure? There’s no ‘sure’ in what I do. You want ‘sure,’ teach math. The Egyptians believed Pythagoras had discovered the laws of the universe.”

  “So, if you believe you’re just a rest stop, that’s what you’ll be.”

  “Look, Eddie, it gets complicated when a shrink has feelings for his patient.”

  “Don’t you talk with your analyst about her?”


  “Dr. Frantz is terrific. We talk about her all the time. He knows exactly how I feel.”

  “Which is …?”

  “Jesus, Eddie, if you’re this ferocious in your legal life, Pete and I will make a mint.”

  “Confess your sins, my son, and all shall be forgiven.”

  “Look, Eddie, Victoria’s a diamond in the rough. Because of the therapy we’ve done, she believes in herself. Because of the therapy we’ve done, I believe in myself. I’m a psychoanalyst. My patients and I talk things out. We don’t live them out. You have no idea what crossing that boundary means, how it could destroy her trust and taint my career.”

  “You can do it if it means enough to you. This is the most important decision you’ll make in your whole life.”

  Adrenalin shot through Jonas. “You’re going somewhere you don’t belong, Eddie. I love Jennie; I do. We were both three-quarters dead when we met. She means the world to me.”

  “Does she make you feel like that girl from Abington does? Because that’s what you need.”

  “Who the hell are you to tell me what I need? Since when do you know what it’s like to be part of people’s lives the way psychoanalysts are? So don’t come around here like Elmer Gantry preaching I need psychological enlightenment.”

  “That’s not fair, Jonas.”

  “Life’s not fair. Our father was supposed to be at my graduation. It killed me that he wasn’t.”

  “I was there for you. I always will be.”

  “I know. I know,” Jonas relented. “You mean the world to me, Eddie, but you can’t show up like Father Earth bearing World Series tickets and expect me to say, ‘C’mon in, Dad, let’s have a heart to heart.’ Jennie wants a family with me. She knows how much you and Margo mean to me; she wants to be a part of that.”

  “But you care about someone else. What do you do about that?”

  “Do? There’s nothing to do. Victoria’s therapy ends in eight months. I’ll never see her again. I can’t have you and Margo second-guessing me about Jennie.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “What about when you—?”

  “What?”

  Jonas took two deep breaths and bit his lip hard. “You and Margo were a lot younger than me when you got together. Were you sure about her?”