The last secret_ a novel - Mary McGarry Morris [52]
“What about it, Ken?” the doctor asks, as if coaxing him. “Anything you want to add here?”
“I don't know, it's hard.” He shrugs.
Nora stares at him. Hard? she almost screams. Try being me, Ken. And then see how goddamn hard it is. Instead, she coolly asks, “So, what do you think, Doctor? Are we heading in the right direction here? Ken and I, are we making any headway?”
The doctor shifts in his creaky chair, waits a moment, then speaks with a certain chagrined reluctance. As if he knows more than can be said. Far, far more. As if in this warm, cluttered office there is an unseen presence. “I don't know that headway's quite the right word. There's a kind of energy here,” he says, countersawing his hands between the two of them, “but it's contained, I think. Held back, perhaps. Does that make any sense?” Eyebrows raised, he looks from one to the other.
She grips the chair arms to keep from jumping up and leaving. She resents being talked down to, being made to feel childish and insignificant.
Ken speaks up, with sudden relish. “It's funny. I keep thinking there's some one thing, if only I can put my finger on it. You know, to figure this all out. It's like there's Nora, but then there's everything before that. You know what I mean, like … like I never got past certain things. Like, what I was saying about my brother last time. Him living in the same house. The same business, all the same people, it's not the way you do things nowadays. People don't get stuck in a place, in a job, in time. Not anymore.”
Strangely fascinating, this eager baring of his heart. Where's he going with this? Stuck in a marriage? Stuck in immaturity? It's the most he's ever admitted.
“That's such a … a relic, such a throwback. On the one hand, I look at my brother and I say, Jesus, what kind of life is that? And then I think, well, wait a minute, I'm doing the same thing, right? Only maybe I'm an even sicker son of a bitch than he is. I mean, what the hell're we doing? What're we afraid of?
“Like when I first met Nora. She was working at the paper, and she just seemed so different from everyone else. Refreshing, you know what I mean? No bullshit, the real deal, it was like I could tell her anything and not have to worry about a hidden agenda. She was always upfront with me. About everything. Especially about what an asshole I could be.”
Everyone laughs. His self-effacing humor. Reminded why she loves him, Nora pats his leg, smiling.
“Even my mom and dad,” he continues, “they saw it right away, too. Like some kind of energy had come into the family. New blood. Renewal, you know what I mean? Like … like, raising the bar. Not only smart as hell, but she made you think twice before you said something, because she'd damn well take you up on it. She had these … these deep values. And she did not suffer fools lightly. Which meant my whole family. They were scared of her. It was hard. I mean, after a century of bullshit, they've got someone like Nora sitting at Christmas dinner telling the emperor he's naked as a jaybird.”
“What're you saying, Ken?” Shocked, she can't remember ever offending his parents, especially not his father. “Your dad was like a second father to me. And he knew that. I told him that. Many times.”
“I know. But that's not my point. He didn't know how to take you. He and my mother, they were from a whole different species, they—”
“What on earth do your parents have to do with you and Robin? I'm sorry, but I don't get it.”
“See? Just cut to the chase,” Ken informs Dr. Martelli with a rueful sigh. “Once again.”
Nora taps her fingers on the chair arm, chews the inside