The Night Strangers
“Emily said to the psychiatrist.“Oh, no, not at all,” Valerian reassured her, and she reached into her handbag on the cushion beside her and pulled out a Ziploc plastic bag filled with granola. “Voilà! My lunch.”“They don’t mind?”The woman shrugged and smiled cherubically. “It’s homemade,” she said. Then she removed a black leather portfolio case and opened it on the table between them. On the inside front cover Emily saw a pocket with pages of handwritten notes about her husband. “There’s a lot... I want to talk about,” Valerian said. “I have strong opinions about your husband and strong thoughts on how to help him.”“Go on.” There was no doctor-patient confidentiality. Chip had told Valerian he wanted her to share with Emily whatever Valerian thought his wife should know.“First of all, I worry that if we don’t, well, get him under control, he may hurt himself.”“You mean again?” Emily said, seeing once more in her mind the knife in his stomach that night as he had stood at the top of the stairs.“I mean worse than what was, in essence, an instance of especially violent cutting.”“You’re suggesting that he might make another attempt to kill himself.”“Yes.”Emily sat back against the vinyl cushions and tried to focus.MoreLess
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