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By Root 396 0

me to see how being a writer was this terrible, terrible thing. I think that as a regular person she just couldn’t understand all the dumb shit I did and the pathetic ways I got by, scraping by on no money, never going to the doctor or the dentist, calling my painter friend Linda who was equally broke to come with me when I needed to go to the bank to check my balance, for moral support. This was probably an unsettling thing for Hildey to witness. Things weren’t going well for me, I wasn’t denying that, but I was doing what I wanted to despite the number of times I opened mail and saw the words “overdue,” “past due,” and “delinquent.” She didn’t understand I didn’t want the stockbroker hubby and the framed photo of Ronald Reagan in his ranch hat over the bed. I had had the opportunity for a regular life, to be a missus, and had decided that that was not going to get my word count up. She didn’t understand this was what being an artist looks like, disaster, total personal ruin. God. Get with it, lady.

“Jeanne, I think you’re a wonderful person with a family history that can only be described as ‘chilling,’ and I’m trying to get you to see how you can utilize your talents in a healthy way.”

“There’s no healthy way to use talent, Hildey.”

It seemed she was always trying to get me to give up the only thing I had, the only thing that gave meaning to my life.

Hildey had some issues of her own that were annoying but not deal breakers. Hildey had Lyme disease and had trouble keeping weight on, so she snacked discreetly during our sessions. I saw nothing wrong with this. I did, however, think it was odd that she answered the phone during my sessions, and when I suggested she get an answering machine she balked as if she wasn’t one of those techie people. An answering machine in 1999 was hardly cutting-edge. Most New York City chipmunks had them at the time. It had been weeks since I asked her to get one, and she was still picking up the phone when it rang.

“I’m sorry, Jeanne, but I have to be available to patients. What if it’s a real emergency? Fifty minutes is too long to wait.”

I would grumble and go on.

One day she let me know she was having some Lymerelated procedure at the hospital the following day and she would need to pick up the phone if the hospital called.

I told her that was fine, and on my end I might have some feelings about her picking up the phone and these feelings might lead to some actions. “Just so you know,” I told her. She nervously put some leftovers into the microwave that she shared with the other therapists down the hall, and came back in and closed the door.

About twenty minutes into the session her phone rang. She looked at me as if to say, “I have to get this.” I gave her my best death stare, really put some effort into this and into maintaining it for the whole phone call, which was three or four minutes. I was doing really well, she looked incredibly scared of me, when a strange small explosion sound in the hall happened, followed by people murmuring, “Looks like chicken vindaloo.” “No, more like a regular yellow curry.” “Wow. Whose food is that?” “What a mess.”

Hildey opened her door to wave at the other therapists and let them know it was her mess, she’d deal with it, and then the person on the phone audibly screamed something. Hildey said, “I have not called you twenty times today, I need to know what time the procedure is tomorrow. I am not bothering you,” and she looked at me and just started bawling right there in her little therapist’s office. I was totally taken aback. The death stare melted into a shocked zombie.

The other therapists headed off in a clump back to their offices as if they might catch what she had. Hildey ended her phone call and slumped in her chair, weeping. I didn’t want to comfort her or even deal with her but I also didn’t want to be mean and ignore her, so I got my bag and said, “I guess I’ll see you next week, Hildey,” and I headed to the elevator.

I walked out onto University Place wondering why all the people who were supposed to be in the stability biz