Gift

Edwina was excited about her first meeting with Placido Halbert, her new counselor. She must remember not to call him “Doctor.” He’d wanted to make his qualifications clear to her when he sent the message to schedule this introductory meeting. He wasn’t an MD. He wasn’t a Ph.D. He had a Master of Arts in Psychology and years of experience with individual clients. He would probably tell her what he wanted to be called.

Edwina was in her office at work, a tiny room, a closet really, off the hallway near the biology lab. She was hoping no one had seen her in the last hour; students had a tendency to ask for her help upon sight. Out of their sight now though, the door closed and locked, she wiggled in her not-very-comfortable chair, sighed, poured another cup of herbal tea from her thermos, stared at her laptop screen, and then clicked the link.

Her counselor-to-be soon appeared, wearing a loose dark-blue turtleneck sweater, and looking very kind. His white beard was shorter, neater, than in his picture. Behind him was a window with silvery-gray curtains drawn over it. The walls of his room were pale yellow. “I can’t believe you’re in Connecticut!” Edwina exclaimed, then felt silly. She’d never been there, so it was a mystery state to her. “It’s not very different from any other place,” said ‘Placido’ gently, knowing full well that it was different. “We’ll keep this first meeting to half an hour. I’ll contact you in a day or two to give you— and me— time to think about it. There’s no charge for this first meeting.” His voice was soft and almost melodic, his manner gentle.

“Well, let me tell you the situation!” Edwina said anxiously. She didn’t want to waste this opportunity. “My husband got a vasectomy without telling me, THAT’S the situation.” Tears came to her eyes, which made her angry with herself. “I’m upset about it, as you can probably tell. I’m sorry!” She turned toward her mug of tea so quickly that it nearly fell onto the floor. She saved it, but not without a hot splash on her hand. She took a deep breath.

“Call me Placido,” she heard him say. “How long have you been married?”

She told ‘Placido’ a lot in the next twenty-five minutes, but it was not until it was time to stop that she remembered one important thing. “He paid off my Vanderbilt student loan. He said it was his wedding present to me. Orville paid off my student LOAN! Does that mean I have to go along with everything he wants?!”

“From what you’ve told me about him, I don’t think his gift was a bribe, Edwina.”

“What was it, then?”

“He seems to be a man who’s VERY intent on minimizing his worries.”

“That’s for sure,” Edwina sighed. “Well, I’ve already decided, Placido. I want to keep seeing you!”

‘Placido’ had another client from 8 to 9 pm. Later that evening, she gave Edwina some thought. Edwina was charming despite her obvious angst. She was capable. But she had ideas about marriage that were causing her distress. These ideas were probably cultural inheritances from her Indian immigrant mother’s own upbringing, thought Placida.

Edwina had said her mother had died when she was a teen, but then she’d corrected herself: her mother had left, disappeared. Her father, a scientific researcher for the Tennessee Valley Authority at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory, had remarried nevertheless.

Edwina hadn’t warmed to her stepmother, Eileen, and when her half-sister Alexa was born, she left for college. She’d meet her father for lunch in Nashville once in a while to talk biology. She seemed nostalgic about those times.

“Oh, these life stories,” thought Placida. “How can I sleep at night?” She was half-joking. By now, she knew that all these lives she was privileged to know intimately were her reason for living, and her “art” when she could effect positive change. But that didn’t mean she’d give Edwina a discount. No, there was money enough there, and Edwina would value the exchange more if she paid the price.

— Macoff