The following evening, troubled by the drug dosage Kender had given Mrs. Bergstrom, he reviewed her records for hours but could find no solace in them, finally giving up and falling asleep over his notebook with his head on his arms. He dreamed of Room 314 and the woman, the figure offering herself to him merging with another, becoming slimmer and harder and less ripe until he was making love to Gaby instead of performing a rite with Liz Meomartino.

When he awoke, he laughed at himself.

Somehow, though, he had gained the knowledge that the man who ended up with Gaby Pender would never have to worry about sending another doctor home to pick up some slides.

But of course she had other problems. He was well rid of the crazy little broad, he told himself.

An hour later he went to the telephone and dialed her number. He was expecting Susan Haskell but instead of the roommate’s voice it was hers saying hello.

“Gaby?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Adam.”

“Oh.”

“How have you been?”

“Fine. That is, I wasn’t for a while, but I am now.”

“Are you?” he asked wistfully.

“Yes.”

“I’m not. Happy New Year, Gaby.”

“Happy New Year, Adam.”

“Gaby, I—”

“Adam—” They had spoken together, and now they both waited.

“I have to see you,” he said.

“When?”

“I’m on tonight. Listen, come to the hospital parking lot at nine o’clock. If I don’t show right up, wait for me.”

“What makes you think I’ll come running because you snap your fingers?” she asked coldly. “And wait around?”

He felt alarm, chagrin, great regret.

“Oh, Adam, I’m not fine either,” she burst out. She was laughing and crying at the same time, the only girl he had ever known who was able to do that. “I’ll be there, darling. Darling Adam.” And hung up.

Book Three: Spring and Summer, The Full Circle

Book Three
Spring and Summer,
The Full Circle

12: Adam Silverstone

12

Adam Silverstone

Adam had talked with Gaby quietly and at great length, sitting in the blue Plymouth in the hospital parking lot, with the heater on and the snow falling and an ambulance beacon blinking at them until a layer of white covered the windshield thick enough to shut out the rest of the world.

“It was all my fault,” he said. “I’ll never let us do this to one another again.”

“You almost finished me. I couldn’t even talk to another man.”

He was silent.

But there were other unpleasant facts that had to be faced.

“My father is a hopeless alcoholic. Right now he seems to be making it, if you can call it that. But he’s cracked wide open before and probably will again. When that happens I’ll need every cent I can scrape together just to provide care for him. I can’t get married until I’m in a position to earn some money.”