CHAPTER NINE
Auggie
I took a long time getting dressed for my appointment with LaViere. I tucked up my hair into a French twist and added a couple of diamond-studded hairpins for effect. I applied subtle make-up and pulled on a velvet, cream-color mini skirt with a deeply-cut, hunter green top that accented my eyes. Matching studs went into my ears and I was ready to go.
“Why are you all dressed up?” Mother asked as she passed me in the hallway.
“Thought I’d make a better impression this time,” I said truthfully.
“Very good, Auggie,” she approved in a happy voice. It was so easy to manipulate her.
I was early for the appointment and sat in the waiting room leafing through Kentucky Thoroughbred, one of my favorite magazines, although I’d already read this issue. I had a subscription.
When he finally opened the door and waved me in, I pasted on a phony sweet smile and went to sit in the same chair as before, except this time I turned it around to face him.
“Miss Auggie, how are we today?” he began, smiling.
I bit my lip to avoid a sarcastic comeback. This hand would have to be carefully played.
“I’ve given a lot of thought to our first meeting, you know,” I began.
“Is that so?”
“Oh, yes… I can see that I was being entirely unfair to Eric by calling off our impending engagement. It’s not his fault that he’s gay, after all.” I waited for his reaction.
He didn’t disappoint. “I see. So you’ve decided you’d rather be half of something that swings both ways than to wait for the right man?” He was trying to be a doctor, but I heard something else in his voice.
“Yes. You see, I decided that my first love is actually Carlos. That’s my horse.” I paused and he nodded. “If Eric were totally involved with my life, well, he’d frown upon the amount of time I go riding. So, in retrospect, if he has, let’s say, other interests, that leaves me more time to be with Carlos.”
He was sitting opposite me, his hands pressed together in a tent-like position and the look on his face was thoughtful.
“I see. What if Eric were to approach you and ask whether you’d be willing to, well, let’s say, ménage a trois? The three of you in the wedding bed? What would you say to that? Could you be with, what was his name… Derek… at the same time?
That’s when I knew he was mocking me. “Would that be so bad?” I asked. “Maybe Derek would make the better lover? Anyway, who are you to question my personal ethics when you’re luring patients away from their husbands into your bed? How dare you! I have a good mind to report you to whatever association you belong to.” I couldn’t stop my hand from waving at his damn licenses on the wall. “And judging by all the letters after your name, I’d say there’s a bunch of them!” I was fuming.
He cocked his head a bit and then, as if remembering, he said, “Ah, I see. So you have such high ideals, but you’re not above listening to other peoples’ conversations, is that it?”
“How could I not hear? You were sitting just six inches behind me! Have you no shame?” I was getting ready to ice pick him.
“I do have shame… and although I’d like very much to get Margaret into my bed, she will never know it because I wasn’t speaking to a live phone.” He settled back for the words to sink in.
I felt my face reddening and this wasn’t something I was accustomed to.
“So, would you like to discuss Margaret or Derek or shall we choose an entirely different topic… uhmmm… perhaps the reason you’re in my office?” His voice was so mocking I wanted to pour drain cleaner down this throat.
“I knew it all along,” I said in a level tone. “I just wanted you to know that your little ploy didn’t work.”
“I see. So you’re above manipulation?”
“Absolutely.”
“And you’re above using your feminine wiles to get what you want?”
“Of course!” I answered automatically. I didn’t see the trap until it was sprung.
“So, the fact that last time you were here in muddy jeans and a ponytail, but today you’re in velvet and diamonds would be just an innocent coincidence?”
He noticed! He remembered! I didn’t know what to say, but I don’t think my face had faded one bit.
“Okay, Auggie, out with it. Why are you here, anyway? You’re wasting my time and your money, or your father’s, however you look at it.”
“I’m… I’m…” I was faltering for my next line. I’d only memorized the script to this point.
“I’ll have my secretary send the final bill. I really don’t think there’s any reason you need therapy. You strike me as just about the sanest person I’ve met in a long time and probably could be my therapist,” he exclaimed and stood up. “Will there be anything else?” he asked in that mocking tone.
“No. I’m leaving. Thank you,” I mustered. “See you around.”
I left quietly the same way I’d come in. I felt confused and a bit deflated that I’d not been able to embarrass him. Was this what it felt like to be Mother? To try and control people? I decided it felt unfamiliar and I was going to mind my own business from now on.
***
Mother was waiting for me when I returned. “How did it go?” she asked bluntly.
“Fine, fine. I’m all done.”
“All done?” She seemed provoked rather than relieved.
“He says I’m the sanest person he’s met in quite a while, canceled my remaining appointments, and that’s that. Okay?”
“Well… well,” she stuttered, then slammed her mouth closed. Tried again. “I thought it would take longer.”
“Mother, why are you so hyped up on having me in therapy? Is it because you have a pipeline of information coming about me from Jervis? Well, he isn’t even my therapist. His partner is. That’s it. We’re done.”
“Auggie, you’re acting worse than when you broke up with Eric. Who is this therapist to you?” She was curious and getting too close for comfort.
“Mother, he’s just another one of your paid informers. Leave me alone and get out of my life, please?” I tried to say it kindly, but she was really getting on my nerves. It was very difficult to be kind to Mother.
***
I trotted up to my room and changed my clothes. Carlos and I spent a few hours together, during which time I decided to find a job. I needed some activity that would get me out from beneath Mother’s scrutiny, and perhaps doing what I was educated to do would be the best idea.
I showered and was scouring the job listings on my laptop when my cell rang.
“Hello.” I hadn’t recognized the number but it was local so I answered it.
“Hello, Auggie,” the vaguely familiar voice said.
“Who’s this?” I was taken off guard.
“Worth LaViere,” he answered. “I thought you might like to have a drink with me tomorrow night?”
Silence stretched to an uncomfortable level as I tried to process his words. “What? Are you serious?” I couldn’t think straight.
“Of course I’m serious.” He was so cocksure of himself.
“Wait a minute. Doesn’t that constitute some kind of violation of ethics? I mean, are you like asking me on a date?” I was completely puzzled.
“Well, to be blunt, yes. I’m asking you on a date and no, it’s only a conflict if you’re my patient. Which, as of this afternoon, you are not. So, what do you say?”
“You’re really serious, aren’t you?” I couldn’t wrap my mind around this.
“How about the bar at the Hilton? Let’s say six o’clock tomorrow?”
“Why?” It was the only thing I could think to ask.
“Because I’m attracted to you.” It was a simple reply and I had to give him credit for being upfront with his intent. I’m not sure whether he talked like that to be a little rebellious, or whether he truly is just that honest. There was only one way to find out.
“I’ll be there. You be there and be ready to answer some questions off the clock, doc.”
“If you call me doc, I get to call you Elizabeth Augusta.”
“See you tomorrow… Worth.”
I hung up and felt my heart hammering like the first time I was asked on a date. I lost my appetite and opened my wardrobe to see what I would wear. In disgust, I realized I was completely outfitted for working on the farm but had little in the way of anything dressy for the Hilton. I resolved to get up early, have a mani-pedi and buy some new clothes.
It wasn’t until just before I fell asleep that it occurred to me that Mother might be behind this. I tried to swat the thought away, as one would a troublesome mosquito, but it stayed with me. I dreamed all night of mosquitos in a bedroom with white gauzy drapes and a tall, naked man who made love to me and wouldn’t let me go. It was one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time.
The next morning, I rose early and dressed in clothing that was easy to slip off in the dressing room. I pulled my car onto the roadway feeling very feminine and my instincts for capturing a male’s attention were in full bloom. I’m not entirely sure why I was interested in catching Worth LaViere’s interest. Was I starving for some sort of male attention after the Eric debacle? Was my femininity in question? Perhaps it was Mother. She emasculated Dad. She also had a way of doing the same thing, in a feminine sense, to me.
I wish I had a sister or, at least, a brother with whom to commiserate. I was always left with the feeling that I wasn’t being entirely fair to her, yet every time I tried to put things behind us, she said or did something new. I could not understand how Dad put up with her. He certainly was a good man and could have found someone with a better disposition to give him a happier life.
It doesn’t serve a purpose to think of one’s parents in this sense, I realized. There was something unwholesome about it.
I found a stylish salon and remembered having been there once as a younger girl when a friend of the family had gotten married. The place looked exactly the same and the hairdressers just as friendly as my hair was trimmed and I indulged in a manicure and pedicure. While I was there, I looked at a few magazines, deciding on a style I could identify with. I wasn’t a model and didn’t care much about designer labels. Designer clothes seemed to be geared toward making the designer look successful more than their clients attractive. After all, the trends in style changed consistently while people’s physical attributes remained relatively the same.
I spent a long time in dressing rooms in different department stores. I even asked the store to send their personal shopper up to me and with her help, found a color and a look with which I could identify.
I still had some time to kill so I went to the bookstore and looked at equine magazines. Curious, I also leafed through some magazines on psychology. I couldn’t imagine that they had trends, as you found in clothing and hair—but the magazines existed so there had to be something new to read about.
When the clock finally wound to the place where it was respectable to arrive, I left and made my way to the Hilton.