Part 12 (2/2)
”How do you know?” Jake asked. ”You figured out where you know her from?”
”No,” Wally said. ”But that's the doctor. I just know it.”
Wally stood at the front entrance to Dr. Rainer's building and punched in the code for her office, which was listed on a directory beside the door. The door buzzed and popped open. Wally entered the small lobby and followed a narrow hallway, which opened into a surprisingly large s.p.a.ce. It was an atrium, rising up the center of the stylish, turn-of-the-century building. At each level was an overlooking balcony, with a polished wood banister running the full perimeter of each. Wally consulted a directory by the elevator, only to find that Dr. Rainer's suite number was not listed. The whole place seemed strangely quiet; there must have been forty or fifty office suites bordering the atrium, but most of them looked dark.
”Third floor, Suite G,” a woman's voice echoed down from up above ... Dr. Rainer, presumably. Wally climbed into the elevator and rode up to the third floor, then followed the balcony to the left, walking all the way to the suite at the far end: Suite G. The door was slightly ajar. Wally knocked twice, lightly.
”Come in,” came the same woman's voice that had called out the suite number from above.
Wally pushed open the door and pa.s.sed through a tiny waiting room-two upholstered chairs and a small coffee table with a selection of magazines-and then on into the tastefully decorated office s.p.a.ce. The woman she had seen on the street, Dr. Charlene Rainer, was at her desk sorting through a stack of mail but looked up as Wally entered. She greeted Wally with a smile.
”Ms. Jones?” the doctor asked. ”Welcome. I'm Doctor-” But then the doctor stopped herself and looked Wally over more closely, recognition dawning on her as she focused on Wally's face. ”Wally?”
”Yes,” Wally said, and now-seeing the woman's face up close-Wally remembered. Shonny. How old had Wally been? Maybe seven or eight, the first time? She'd been having some problems at the Harpswell School, and Claire had brought Wally in for counseling to a woman who she was supposed to call Shonny, casually as if they were friends. The visits had taken place in a different office, and the doctor had aged a bit in the last eight or nine years, of course, but this was unquestionably the same woman. Immediately, Wally remembered feeling safe with her, comfortable.
”Wally.” Dr. Rainer's face brightened as she looked Wally over again, taking an inventory of the changes to her former patient. ”Look how grown you are. How old?”
”Sixteen.”
”Good lord. Can it really be that long?” At that moment a thought crossed Dr. Rainer's mind-she looked as if she was trying to work out a puzzle. ”Are you Ms. Jones? My next appointment?”
”Yes,” Wally answered. ”Sorry. I'll explain.”
”No harm done,” said Dr. Rainer. ”You're always welcome here, Wally. Please sit down.”
Wally chose one of the two guest seats in front of the desk instead of the leather sofa that ran along the opposite wall-she wanted to be up close and personal for this discussion. Dr. Rainer sat down in the high, leather office chair behind her desk.
”It's been how many years?” Dr. Rainer wondered aloud, and then swiveled her chair to face the wooden file cabinet behind her, opening one of the wide drawers. ”I'm afraid I never took to the computerized file thing,” she said as she searched through the cabinet. ”One of these days, maybe ...”
After a moment of searching, she retrieved a file folder and shuffled through the pages, scanning for the information she wanted. ”I can hardly believe it,” she said, swiveling back to her desk. ”It's been almost eight years since your last visit. I would have guessed four or five, but that's what happens as we get older.”
Wally was deeply curious about the contents of that file. She was just about to ask if she could see it-wouldn't happen, probably-when Dr. Rainer returned the file to its place in the drawer and closed the cabinet.
”I've spoken to Claire on occasion,” Dr. Rainer said as she turned back to Wally, and the doctor's face revealed a slight look of disappointment. ”So I guess I'm at least semi-up-to-date on your current ... uh, situation.”
”I don't want to talk about that now,” Wally said, determined to steer the discussion exactly where she needed it to go. No therapeutic bulls.h.i.+t, no recriminations for the choices she had made in her life.
”All right,” Dr. Rainer said. ”Just ... you're safe? You're healthy?”
”I can take care of myself,” Wally said.
Dr. Rainer smiled. ”I don't doubt it. You were always strong.”
”I need the truth, Dr. Rainer.”
”Of course.”
”You were my therapist.”
”Yes. Not regularly. We met a few times, when you were having specific problems. Do you want to talk about those issues?”
”No. Back then, when you first started meeting with me ... you already knew who I was. It wasn't just random that I came to you as a patient. We had a connection already.”
”Well ...” Dr. Rainer s.h.i.+fted in her seat. ”I'm not sure in what sense you mean that, Wally.”
”You used to live in Russia.”
Wally waited as Dr. Rainer remained completely still for a moment, her eyes locked on Wally. The doctor suddenly looked very nervous. She cast an anxious look toward the door of her office, which was still open.
”Wally, are you alone?” she asked warily.
”Um, yeah,” Wally answered, wondering what was spooking the doctor. ”It's just me.”
”Excuse me a moment ...” Dr. Rainer stepped past Wally, out of her office and onto the balcony hallway. From there, she moved to the edge of the wooden railing, searching the atrium s.p.a.ce with her eyes in every direction. Empty. She took a moment and just listened. All was quiet. Somewhat satisfied, Dr. Rainer returned to the office, closing the office door behind her and facing Wally again.
”Wally,” she said, exhaling as if she had been holding her breath. ”I'm sorry, you surprised me, to say the very least. I'm just a little ... a little something, today. I'm not sure what. A little anxious, I guess.”
”It's okay,” Wally said, and forged onward. ”You taught at the Emerson School.”
”I was there, but I didn't teach,” the doctor answered, now making a poor attempt to appear relaxed and casual. ”I'd just finished my doctorate at Columbia and I started exploring some of the more exotic job opportunities. I saw that Emerson was looking for an on-staff counselor, and the idea of traveling to Russia for a while was exciting.” The answer was longer and more detailed than necessary, and Wally could sense that the woman was stalling, maybe afraid of whatever questions would come next.
”And you knew Yalena Mayakova during that time.” A statement, not a question.
Dr. Rainer took a moment. The woman had been uneasy already, but the mention of Yalena's name took her obvious sense of dread to a new level.
”How do you know that name, Wally?”
”I just know it. Please answer my question, Doctor.”
Dr. Rainer took a moment. ”Yes. I knew Yalena Mayakova when I lived in Moscow.”
”You know that I'm her daughter. You've always known? Back then when you were giving me counseling or whatever ...”
Another pause. ”Yes.”
And now Wally had to ask: ”Are you Yalena Mayakova?”
Whatever question Dr. Rainer might have been expecting at that point, this was not it.
”Me?” The woman was obviously taken aback. ”Oh, Wallis ... no.”
”You're not my real mother?”
”I am not your real mother.”
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