Rachel Goddard 01 - The Heat of the Moon

Theo into the living room.
    I plopped, cats and all, onto an overstuffed green velvet sofa with shredded arms. The antique wedding ring quilt thrown over the seat cushions also had a few rips, I noticed. It was one of many quilts Theo’s late wife Renee had collected, and it still carried a faint scent of the lavender sachet that always called up her smiling image.
    Theo stood his cane to one side of a deep plump chair, then grasped the chair arms and lowered himself slowly to a sitting position.
    “You let these animals run wild,” I said, fingering a rent in the quilt’s delicate old cotton. Helen stood on the sofa back and licked my hair while Sophia circled in my lap preparatory to settling.
    “Oh, I know, I know,” Theo said. We’d had this exchange before. “But aren’t they charming little anarchists?”
    Sophia answered with an ear-splitting yowl. Theo and I laughed.
    “Now,” he said, “tell me how things are with you.”
    For nearly an hour, as I made coffee for us, trimmed the cats’ claws and brushed their creamy fur, I answered his questions. Theo—Dr. Theodore Antanopoulos, professor emeritus at George Washington University, semi-retired private practice psychiatrist—had known me since I was five and was acquainted with all the surface details of my life. I hoped he knew more, and would be willing to tell me. But before I could work back to the past, I had to satisfy his curiosity about the present.
    Eventually, as I knew he would, as he always did, he asked, “And do you have a man in your life these days?”
    Usually I gave him a quick no, or shrugged and said I’d seen some guy a few times but it didn’t amount to anything. This time I hesitated, grinning in spite of my effort not to.
    Theo’s eyes widened. “There is someone,” he said. “At last! Who is he? He must be special to put that sparkle in your eyes.”
    “I’m not sure what’s going to happen. It’s just—” I stroked Sophia, curled on my lap, then gave equal treatment to Helen, whose hot little body pressed against my right leg. “It’s too soon to talk about it. I doubt anything will come of it.” I glanced up. “Don’t mention it to Mother, okay?”
    “Of course not. A true relationship takes time, you know. You mustn’t rush and make a mistake. But do give it a chance to grow. Promise me that?”
    I nodded. “I’ll try.” Luke and Theo, I thought, would be crazy about each other. Maybe I’d introduce them someday.
    Only after giving me his whole attention for so long did Theo ask about Mother and Michelle. Although he seemed fond of Michelle, the two of them had never been strongly attached, and his questions now seemed more politeness than genuine interest.
    His feelings for Mother were a different matter. He loved her the way I imagined a father might love a daughter. His wife Renee had felt the same. They had no children, and I sensed that Mother filled that gap in their lives, if only partially. The one time I’d seen my mother break down and sob was the moment Renee’s coffin was lowered into its grave.
    I tried to talk about Mother as if everything were fine between us. “She’s getting all her fear-of-flying patients together for a chartered flight in a couple of weeks,” I said. “Low altitude, and not too far from the airport. She’s got one person who might freak out, so she wants to stay near a runway. She doesn’t want a repeat of the Washington Monument experience.”
    Theo threw back his head and roared. “I have to take credit for that, I’m afraid,” he said when his laughter subsided. “I referred that poor man to her. But I swear I thought his only problem was a fear of heights. I had no idea he was harboring a latent claustrophobia.”
    “Well, it’s not latent anymore. She’s treating him for it now.” I glanced at my watch. It was almost 11:30, and I knew he had afternoon patients to see in his K Street office. I’d better get to the point.
    “Theo, did you ever know my father?”
    He laughed. “Please signal the next time you’re about to change directions. You’ve given me whiplash.”
    “Sorry. It’s just that talking about Mother made me wonder. Actually, I’ve been thinking about him lately. Wondering what he was like. I guess they weren’t married when she was here getting her doctorate. Her maiden name’s on her degree.”
    He gave me an odd look, surprised and puzzled. “Good heavens, no. They weren’t married until she returned to