Chapter 2: A Late Night Discussion
I don't know how long I sat there. It could have been 5 minutes or 5 hours. Time had no meaning. Looking back I now understand what Joe meant when he said that his mind was in a "loop". That's exactly how it felt. The same thoughts replaying over and over in my head. "It can't be. I don't believe it! How could she?"
After I slid the rubber band back on the stack of pictures and closed the box, I sat with my hands folded on my desk deep in thought. How must Joe Powell have felt when he first saw those pictures? The trauma. The anger. The disbelief. Poor man! It's bad enough to be told that your wife has been unfaithful – but to see that! One picture after another. One worse than the other, until . . . . I closed my eyes but all I could see was a deck of pictures being shuffled.
I heard the doorknob to my office rattle and a familiar face appeared around the door.
"Well, are we going to eat tonight?"
It was my husband, Sid. I gazed at his round face and thinning hair. He flashed me a smile. Always smiling, always my rock.
"I'm sorry honey, I just got embroiled with a new client and lost track of time!"
"No wonder! I saw him leave! Quite a "hunk". What were you two doing in here?"
"Sid! Will you stop with the couch jokes – please! You know, I am a professional, and I really don't think it's funny when you say things like that. . "
"Just kidding, just kidding, calm down." Sid held up his hands in surrender and smiled. Then he plopped on the couch with a sigh and gazed at me with a look of loving concern.
"Zu-Zu, what's bothering you?"
I got up and sat next to my husband. He wrapped his arm around me as I looked up into his eyes.
"This new case - I'm afraid it has really gotten to me!"
Sid raised his eyebrows:
"Zu-Zu, what could that young man have possibly told you that you haven't heard a hundred times before. What's his problem? He can't get an erection? Found out his mother doesn't love him? What?"
I looked mournfully into my husband's eyes.
"Infidelity. His wife is unfaithful."
"Oh, surprise, surprise, Zu! How many times have your heard that complaint? I would estimate that about every fourth couple that comes into this office has some sort of infidelity issue! It can't be only that!"
"Well Dr. Weisberg, this time there are pictures, very explicit pictures. Very DISTURBING pictures of a Sunday school teacher and young mother engaged in some pretty sordid stuff!"
"Are we sharing the pictures?" Side whispered with a conspiratorial grin.
"You pervert! Those photos are confidential and part of my file. You know I can't show them to you! Sidney, you are thinking with the wrong head!"
"Ok, doctor, have it your way. But you know, I am a medical doctor AND your husband. And I will also remind you that there is still a law in this state protecting spousal communications, as well as doctor to doctor confidentiality . . ."
"You are still a dirty old man and a pervert Dr. Weisberg . . ." I said teasingly as I purposely laid my hand in his lap.
"and you are getting an erection, which proves to both of us your strictly professional interest in my case."
"My dear Dr. Sharp, I may be a medical doctor AND the husband of a clinical psychologist but I am still a man and I make no apologies for my erections – particularly at my age."
"Nor are any apologies required."
I reached up and kissed Sid tenderly.
"I do love you!"
"And I love you, but you know I hate to see you take these cases so much to heart. I mean you give these people your time, your sympathies and your professional advice. Do they have to take our diner away from us too?"
"Oh, don't start with that old complaint, mister. I don't see you wasting away in front of me. How about if a pretty girl takes you out for a nice meal? I'm treating."
"Sure, neglect your wifely duties and make it up by taking me to a restaurant. I'm taking notes Dr. Sharp which I intend read to our marital therapist when the appropriate time comes."
"And for which I will gladly give you a referral, Dr. Weisberg. I was thinking of Leslie Marks actually."
"Dr. Marks, isn't she the lesbian? The one that hates men? The one with the castration fixation?"
"The very same. So you watch it buster."
* * *
To make up for the late diner I took Sid to his favorite Japanese restaurant even though there was not much on the menu that I was willing to eat. I wasn't feeling very hungry anyway so the small bowl of miso soup seemed just perfect for my mood. Sid was sitting in front of a colorful bento box of assorted sushi and sashimi and attacking it like it was his last meal.
"So what's so disturbing about this new case of yours Zu-Zu? Incest? Rape? Pedophilia?"
"No just an unfaithful wife!"
"So then, what's the big deal?"
"Well Sid, the pictures WERE very graphic. And the wife, she looks so . . . normal. Then to see all those pictures. I don't know - I was disturbed."
"So did she do anything we haven't done?" Sid gave me a mischievous wink.
"Sidney Weisberg, I know your tricks. And yes, LOTS of things that we, at least I, have never done. If you think . . ."
I looked furtively around the almost empty restaurant and lowered my voice.
"If you think that I am going to describe those pictures to you, forget it. First of all this is a public place. Secondly, my cases are confidential . . ."
Sid waived his napkin in front of my face in surrender and then wiped his mouth.
"OK, OK I get the picture. Or rather, I guess I don't get the pictures."
"No you don't get the pictures!" I whispered. "Not unless you are a good boy."
Sidney raised his eyebrows.
"So doctor, you think you might need a second opinion? A professional consultation might be in order you know. My couch may be available tonight."
Sidney winked at me as I pushed my empty bowl away.
"Why don't you finish up and I'll see what I can arrange."
* * *
Later that night we were both sitting up in bed reading, as we do almost every night.
"Susan, were you serious about showing me those pictures? You really have piqued my interest."
Sidney looked earnestly over his glasses at me as he put aside the medical journal he was reading.
"I don't know, Sid. They really were pornographic. I don't understand why I was so horribly disturbed by them. Maybe you should look at them. Maybe I need a man's opinion."
Despite my earlier protestations, this would not be the first time that I asked my husband to review one of my files and give me his opinion. True, he is not a psychologist, but I genuinely value his opinion and sometimes he has insights that I just don't see. Besides, my reaction to the shoebox had been so extreme and no one knows me better than my husband. I thought that maybe he could help me see why I had such an unprofessional reaction to this case.
I scurried out of bed and padded downstairs to my office. The shoebox was sitting in the middle of my desk right where I left it. The lid was closed, silently guarding its contents. For some reason I was apprehensive, no scared actually. I hesitated to pick it up. It seemed evil. For a brief moment I imagined the vines curling around my hands and trapping me as I picked up that vile box.
I realized that a knot was growing in my stomach. I really did not want this shoebox to enter our bedroom. I froze and felt my heart beating fast. For some reason I sat down at my desk, switched on the desk lamp and dialed the extension that rang next to our bed. Sid answered.
"Hello"
"Sid, I'm in my office with the shoebox. Could you come down here please?"
"Zu-Zu, for God's sakes! Can't you bring it up here? Why do we both have to go down into that damn chilly office of yours?"
"Sidney, I would prefer if you looked at the contents in my office. I don't know, maybe I'm being silly but I just feel more professional doing it that way. Please dear!"