After Claire: In Search of a Habitable Life by John Wallis

Author:John Wallis [Wallis, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was nearly time for Ricardo Raphael’s appointment. The dread that had parked in the back of my stomach all weekend now moved into my chest. When I opened the door to the waiting room, would I know just by looking at the man whether he’d carried out his threat against Angela?

I braced myself and opened the door.

Ricardo wasn’t there. Of course. There’d been no bell to indicate his arrival. Flush with relief, I sat in one of the waiting room chairs trying to think what this might mean. Had Ricardo hurt Angela but didn’t want to put himself in legal jeopardy by talking about it? Was he through with therapy after all? I pulled out my cell to call Angela to make sure she was okay, but before I could do so Ricardo came bustling through the outer door. It hadn’t occurred to me he might simply be late.

“I am sorry, Dr. Mason. I was caught in traffic behind an accident just outside your office. I was going to call to let you know, but then the traffic cleared. I thought I might be able to make it on time.” He looked at his watch. “Ahh…close, but not quite. Again, I apologize.”

What a hypocrite, I thought. The man pretended to be civilized but wouldn’t hesitate to have my legs broken at the snap of a finger. “Come in,” I said with a sigh. I hadn’t seen on Ricardo’s face or heard anything in his voice that indicated his state of mind—or Angela’s fate.

Even before I settled into my chair, Ricardo said, “I think you will be pleased with what I have to tell you.” I thought the only thing that would please me would be if Ricardo were to say he’d decided to terminate our work together. Or even better, commit suicide. “I have decided,” he continued, “not to harm Angela. Not yet, anyway.” Ricardo waited for me to respond. When I didn’t, he asked, “Don’t you want to hear about it?” I continued looking at him, not wanting to give him the courtesy of a response, though I was interested in hearing what he had to say. Ricardo brushed lint from one leg of his pants. “I was going to do it. Do it myself, not have one of my people do it for me. The tongue, as we discussed.”

Like hell, we discussed. Don’t act like this was a jointly crafted plan.

“But then I thought about how I would feel after. Not right after, when I would feel gloriously avenged, but how I would feel the following week, or month, or six months after.”

Ricardo waited for me to play my part. I just stared at him. But I was impressed with what he’d said.

“I realized I would regret that I did not give her another chance to do the right thing.”

I was sufficiently struck by the depth of Ricardo’s thinking that I wanted to hear more. “What is the ‘right thing’ you would have her do?”

“Come back to me, of course.

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