“I was Dr. Edward Simon, successful Beverly Hills psychiatrist.” Rune rubbed her fingers together to indicate cash. “Stars and their traumas, charity work on the east side, 1930s house redesigned by my wife and featured in Sunset magazine. Then COVID hit.”

Elle shuffled again.

“I’m a physician, right? I understand virus transmission. But I figured I’m healthy, I run marathons, I take precautions, wash my hands. I thought masks might have merit, but they’re bad for the patients with trust issues.” Rune sighed. “I caught it on the first wave. I was on a ventilator, damned near died in the hospital. Alone, because my wife and parents couldn’t visit.”

Elle shuffled again, a slow rattle of cards coming together.

“After two months, I went home. In a week, I returned with blood clots. Then a stroke.” Rune flexed her right hand.

For the first time Adam realized her little finger and the one next to it were immobile.

“I’m a caretaker.” Rune splayed her palm on her chest. “It’s a failing, but my wife was always the most hurt, most depressed, sickest. Now she couldn’t be the sickest. She wasn’t the sickest. Six foot one and I weighed a hundred and twenty pounds.”

Elle held up the deck. “They’re shuffled. What do you want me to do?”

With a shaking hand, Rune patted the table.

Elle pushed the deck of cards across the table. “What happened?”

“My wife left me. There is nothing like being a psychiatrist who realizes he’s made the wrong life choices because he assumed he’d always come out on top...” Rune looked sideways at Elle. “My voice changed. Lung damage coupled with respiratory-system collapse and suddenly I was Julia Child.”

“Everyone loves Julia Child,” Elle said, “and it’s a good fit for you.”

“Thank you, dear.” Rune picked up the deck. “I can feel your vibrations. You’re a good person.”

“Asking you about your life doesn’t make me a good person.”

“A caring person. Does that fit better?” Rune asked.

A caring person. Which Adam was not, because he wanted to put his hands over his ears rather than to listen to all this anguish.

“If you were sick, I guess you couldn’t work.” Elle urged Rune on.

“Right. No income.” Rune placed the cards in a simple pattern. “Hm. Look, it’s all here. Violence. In the night. And the ocean. See?” She turned over more cards. “My friends slipped away. I was embarrassing to be around.”

“You had the wrong friends,” Elle said.

“I didn’t have the wrong friends. I chose the wrong friends.” Rune laughed her trilling laugh. “Sorry! You can take the psychiatrist out of the office, but you can’t stop him from giving the proper responses.”