David arrived at Ciao a few minutes ahead of time. Being anxious about his date, he didn't want to make any mistakes, such as showing up late. Ciao, a nicely decorated, moderately priced Italian restaurant on the north side of town, was a convenient location for both Laura and David. The place was comfortable, with brocade upholstering and plush carpet, accented by a few renaissance era appointments and low volume classical music. Most importantly, the food was outstanding. David thought it was a nice choice for a first date.

He entered the foyer, relieved to see that Laura had yet to arrive. After giving his name to the hostess, and reserving a table for two, he took a seat on a long bench to wait. The foyer was chilly and he left his topcoat on. His hands and feet were cold from intermittent waves of winter air passing through the entry to the bar area—an area with which he was quite familiar. After his divorce, he’d spent many lonely evenings in there, diluting his brain cells to make his anguish tolerable. He would often drink until closing, then stagger out to the parking lot.

David recognized a few faces of the steady customers sitting at the bar. He hadn't been there for years, despite that, he wasn't surprised to see many of the regulars he knew from the past. He didn't think poorly of his old acquaintances, rather, they made him feel empty and sad—sad for them and sad for himself, as he pondered his decades of alcoholism, realizing how it hurt Susan, ruined his marriage, distanced him from his children and damaged his integrity and self-esteem. He was keenly aware of the daily turmoil his former drinking buddies were going through, reminding him of how fortunate he was to finally be out of that cycle of self-destruction. I'm the lucky one, he thought. If it hadn't been for my career, I never could have afforded the expensive rehab  program I attended.

If not for that opportunity, he could easily be sitting at the bar right now, seeking oblivion from the pain of divorce, a pain that fortunately, probably because of his sobriety, had long since faded away.

He was certain his old pals would love to see him, welcoming him back home with shouts of, "Look who's here!" and "Hey, Dr. B, where the hell ya been?" They’d invite him to join in, just like old times. He had a brief urge to do just that. He let it pass.

"Hello."

Barnett looked toward the door and quickly stood. "Hi, Laura. Did you have any trouble finding this place?"

"No trouble at all. Your directions were perfect."

"I'll take your coat if you want. It's a little cold in here but I'm sure the dining room will be warmer." Barnett hung their coats in an adjoining cloak room and walked with Laura to the hostess.

"Your table is ready, Doctor."

"Great, thank you."

The dining room was warm and cozy. A stone faced fireplace with a large fieldstone hearth stood in the center of the room. Its massive chimney extended high through a cathedral ceiling, which was crisscrossed with large, roughhewn, oak beams. Dining tables, draped with white cloths, were spaced throughout the room, and booths, cushioned with dark maroon leather, lined the far wall. Crystal chandeliers, suspended high from above, gave the room a pleasant glow, enhanced by the golden light and crisp crackles emanating from burning logs in the fireplace. The entire room was covered with deep emerald green carpeting, which deadened the noise of the restaurant, creating a pleasant acoustic quality of intimacy.

David and Laura took a moment to warm up in front of the fire.Their waiter, a rotund, middle aged man with a heavy black mustache, seated them at a nearby table. Barnett was pleased with the waiter’s choice, near the fire place but not so close as to be hot, and isolated enough to provide privacy. The table was adorned with a candle centerpiece and a single red rose in a slender glass vase.

"This is beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it. It's one of my favorites and it’s surprisingly nice, considering the exterior, which doesn't look like much."

"I know what you mean. Looks kinda plain on the outside but it’s lovely in here. I was actually a little leery when I first drove up."

David got caught staring at his beautiful date. She smiled and blushed, just a little. There was a slight irregularity in her front teeth. He found it attractive, different from the perfect teeth, almost too perfect look, common in the era of orthodontia.

The waiter introduced himself and left a menu and wine list. "I'll give you a few minutes to review our wines. I'll be back shortly."

"Laura, would you care for some wine?"

"Sure, I'd love some. Gotta have wine with Italian food. Don't you agree? You choose whatever you'd like, David."

A forlorn look draped the doctor’s face. "Laura, I don't drink. I assumed you knew that."

"No, actually I didn't, but that's fine with me. I won't have any either. How's that?"

"I'd prefer that you have some wine. If you don't, it will make me feel like I'm imposing my problems on you."

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes." He paused. "This is a little awkward for me, mainly because I was so sure you knew."

"I'm sorry, David. I don't follow. Knew what?"

"Knew that I'm an alcoholic."

"You are? Well, that's okay. You don't drink, right? So I guess you're a 'former' alcoholic. Who's to say, anyway? I mean, what makes you so sure you're an alcoholic or were an alcoholic?" Laura was enamored with David, and despite this being their first date, she had already fantasized about them in a long term relationship. It hurt to hear of problems right off the bat, especially after what had happened to Michael. She didn't want more heartbreak and was trying hard to ignore David's issue. She wanted him to be the way she saw him—she wanted him to be perfect.

Barnett looked her straight in the eye. I'm sure I am—I'm sure I'm an alcoholic. Believe me, drinking used to be a big problem for me, mainly during my divorce. Laura, it's pretty much understood that it's a disease that stays with you. You can stop drinking, but you're still an alcoholic, a recovered alcoholic, so to speak."

Laura remained hopeful. "Well, it's fine with me, David. You're not drinking now and it sounds like you've got a handle on it. Why did you think I would have known about it?"

"Because of your father-in-law."

"Carlo? He never said anything to me. How would he know?"

"I'm not sure how he knows so much about my past but it all came out at the deposition. It was obvious that he'd been told a lot about me."

"Laura interjected, I wasn't there, at the deposition."

"I know. But I assumed Carlo would have talked to you about all of this. Unfortunately, I suspect my addiction is going to be a major issue in this malpractice case. Since Carlo was the one to initiate it, I figured he told you all he knew. At the deposition, John Gallagher asked me some direct, pointed questions about it, my alcohol use that is. Carlo never said anything to you?"

"Not a word. Actually he hasn't said much at all about this whole thing. He acts like he has to protect me. That's why I wasn't at the deposition. He didn't want me there."

"Laura, this is all about your husband. Why wouldn't Carlo want you to be involved?"

"David, the law suit is all his idea. I actually had nothing to do with it. I feel real bad about it, especially now."

He was pleased with her statement, feeling it was an indication of her interest, possibly romantic interest, in him. He decided to pursue it. "You feel bad 'now'. Is it okay if I ask what you mean by 'now'? Has something changed?"

Laura blushed as her eyes went wide. "Come on, you know that's not a fair question, but I'll answer it anyway." She smiled, cocking her head slightly "Now, means now that I've gotten to know you. I find you to be a nice man, a good person, and from what I saw of your work in the hospital, I think you're an excellent cardiologist." Smiling broadly, she added, "So there, Doctor Barnett. And that was a sneaky way to find out how I feel about you. But it's okay, I'm glad I told you. Now it's your turn!"

In addition to beautiful, Barnett found Laura cute and witty. My turn, he thought. That’s perfect. "My turn, great. I want to tell you my feelings, which I think are obvious, since I'm the one who asked you out for dinner. Laura, I find you very attractive in all respects, your appearance, your personality, your sense of humor, your intelligence, everything. I do realize that we barely know each other, but at this point, that's how I feel."

Laura, momentarily speechless, blushed again. “I'm flattered, David, and pleasantly embarrassed by your compliments. Thank you. I think I can say, with confidence, that I feel the same about you. That's the reason I'm so upset with my father-in-law. I wish he'd never started this whole thing. I should have stopped him a year ago."

"It's okay. You couldn't have stopped him anyway. He seems so bitter and determined. He would have found a way to sue me, with or without you."

"I suppose your right. He loved Michael so much, and he's so alone now. He lives in a big, expensive house all by himself. I sure it's made him angry: his solitude, his wife, his children. It's so tragic. He blames doctors—he blames everyone else for his problems, everyone but himself."

"Laura, I'm not worried about it, the suit that is. Actually, If Carlo hadn't pursued this, we never would have seen each other again. I wouldn't have been happy with that, especially since I've been thinking about you ever since we met at the hospital. Of course, under those circumstances, there was nothing I could do. But now, more than a year later, I think its ok—it's more appropriate."

Laura, trying to hide her enthusiasm, smirked, and said, “Come on, Dr. Barnett. You’re really pourin’ it on. I may start thinking you’re manipulating me. That wouldn’t be good.”
“No it wouldn’t. And it wouldn’t be true. Sorry if I’m being too abrupt, but I mean what I say.”
Laura, delighted with what she’d just heard, smiled broadly. She’d also had difficulty forgetting David, knowing he was divorced and available. After Michael's death, she was horribly lonely. It was easy to fantasize about meeting a new man, and Dr. Barnett fit her dreams perfectly. Pensive in thought, she silently stared at her date.

David, sensing he’d been too forward, changed the subject. "You mentioned Carlo's wife. Where is she?"

"David, Mrs. Conti, Marie, died three years ago. Michael was all Carlo had after his wife’s death."

"I didn't know about Mrs. Conti. I'm sorry to hear that. Why did you say, or imply, Carlo should blame himself? Blame himself for what?"

"He’s fanatic about not seeing doctors—always has been, at least since I’ve known him. Carlo’s got an irrational hatred for physicians. I don't think he’s ever been to a doctor in his life, at least his adult life, and he refused to let his family go to doctors."
 
“That's crazy. But Michael went to a doctor. He saw Tamayo."
Yes, he did, but as far as I know, Tamayo was his first. I’m sure, when he was a child, he saw a pediatrician for the usual shots, immunizations and such. Michael said he was never sick while growing up, never until now, or, you know, when this all happened." Laura looked away.

David, reaching across the table, gently touched her hand. "Laura, maybe we should talk about something else."

"I don't mind. I'd rather explain this whole, bizarre thing. I think we should talk about it, especially now, David. Maybe . . . maybe I could help you, you know, help you with your trial."

Barnett was pleased with her offer. His attraction to Laura grew in response to her kind gesture. "I guess it's possible. Maybe you can help me. I’d really like to know what’s goin’ on in your father-in-laws head. That would be helpful.

"David, I'm sorry this is happening."

"Please, you don't have to apologize. It's obvious that it's not your doing. I didn't realize that till now. I thought both you and Carlo were in this together."

"No. Not at all. This was all his idea and he refused to listen to anything I said."

“Laura, I don’t understand his anger—what his complaints are. I’m sure you remember what happened in the emergency room—when Carlo got physical with me. I couldn’t believe it. He was irrational. Weren’t you surprised by his behavior?”
She leaned forward, closer to David, as if to tell a secret, nearly whispering. “I’m not shocked, not in the least. I’ve seen much worse from my father-in-law. Most of the time he’s in control, balanced. But every now and then he’ll explode. Never with me, never directed at me, but often in my presence. If Michael or Marie said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing—wrong in Carlo’s mind, he would erupt. It was terrifying. I think he has a deep, inner anger; he’s angry at the world, especially the medical world. It’s gotta be related to Cassie.”
 
 
 
 
Right now it looks like John Gallagher doesn't have a case. However, who knows what could come up later in this trial. Fortunately, I'm not that worried about it. It's not the end of the world if I lose a malpractice case. Most cardiologists have, at one time or another. I've got good insurance. It would be a blemish on my record, but, as I've said, it happens. Two of my partners have lost malpractice suits and they're both very good cardiologists."

"But you didn't do anything wrong, did you?"

Her question caught David off guard. As he paused to gather his thoughts, the all too common sensation of guilt returned. Looking directly into Laura’s eyes, he replied, "Laura, I feel bad about the situation. Honestly, at the time, because it took me longer than usual to respond, I felt a bit of guilt. It's my nature to be hard on myself. I wish I’d come to the hospital right away, when Steve Goetch called me the first time." David looked down at the table.

"Would it have made any difference? Any difference if you’d arrived earlier?”

Raising his head,  hesitated. "Laura, I don't want this to sound like an excuse, it's not, please believe me. The truth is, in my heart I know it wouldn't have made a difference. Michael's coronary problems were so severe that he was truly in a hopeless situation. I know that logically but it's sometimes impossible for me to avoid feeling shame."

"I believe you. I wouldn't be sitting here with you right now if I didn't."

David smiled. "Why ARE you here with me?" He immediately regretted saying that, having put her on the spot. "I'm sorry, don't answer that. That wasn't a fair question. This whole thing is strange though, isn't it? The way we met, your circumstances with Carlo, all of it. I no longer care about the odd circumstances, Laura. I'm very glad you're here. Very glad!"

She happily reponded. "Me too." At that moment, as if on cue, the waiter returned, placing a basket of bread and two glasses of water on the table.

"I'm sorry I took so long. My apologies. How about a bottle of wine?"

David looked to Laura, "We never did decide on that, did we?"

It's your call, David."

"Alright then, would you like red or white?"

"I would prefer red, doctor".

Pleased with her decision, he grinned and looked up to the waiter. "She'll have a glass of the California Cabernet. I'll have coffee."

The waiter filled their water glasses and took their dinner order. He was just about to leave when he turned back and addressed David. "Sir, please don't think that I'm pushing wine sales. However, I always inform our customers of the cost advantages of buying a bottle. If you're going to have two glasses of wine, you will have practically paid for an entire bottle. In addition, if the bottle isn't emptied, it's our policy to allow you to take the remainder with you."

David looked across the table.

"David, I'm sure I won't have more than one glass."

"It does make more sense to buy the whole bottle. You can take the rest home and have a glass tomorrow if you want." Barnett looked back to the waiter. "As per your suggestion, Sir. We'll have a bottle of the Cabernet."

"Very good, Sir. I'll be right back."


* * *


John Gallagher finished his last bit of scotch and set the empty rocks glass on the table. Across the booth, sat his business partner, Robert Walker, who had driven to Toledo from Detroit to discuss an ongoing case in their firm.

"John, you gonna have another one?"

"I might. How 'bout you."

"I don't think so. I've got a bit of a drive ahead of me. I better play it safe with the booze.

"Yeah, I should probably go too. I've got an early day tomorrow."

"You haven't told me what you're doin' down here. Anything interesting?"

"I'm in the middle of some half-assed malpractice case that’s gone to a jury. Gotta be in court at eight-thirty."

"John, sounds like you better get to bed, too. You ready to take off?"

"No, on second thought, I think I'll have one more and go over some of my notes here. Bob, I'll give you a call tomorrow." As his partner was about to leave, John Gallagher stood and reached for his wallet.

"Hey. Don't worry about it, John. I've got it."

"Okay, Bob. Thanks. I'll see you later. We'll talk tomorrow."

Walker grabbed his top coat from a hook near their booth, and walked out of Ciao. Gallagher, watching his friend leave, looked around the dining room. Caught off guard, doing a double-take, he saw them sitting together near the fireplace, barely fifteen feet away. My God, he thought. What in hell are they doing having dinner together? This is incredible. The attorney leaned back in his seat to be out of Laura's line of sight. Now, I’ll definitely have another drink.
 
* * *
 
Laura took a sip of wine. "This is good. Thank you."

"I know. I know it's good. I've had more than my share in the past. But coffee suits me just fine now. I really don't miss it, the wine that is."

She responded, "Good, I'm impressed with your diligence."

Barnett wanted to get off the topic of alcohol. "Laura, I'm still amazed that the Conti family never had any medical care. Didn't Michael's mother complain?"

"David, Marie Conti was deeply in love with her husband, she told me so. He was very good to her, most of the time. But believe me, Carlo ruled the household and we all accepted it."

"But she died. Didn't she go to a doctor? What happened to her?"

"She died in her sleep. Everyone said it must have been a heart attack."

The thought of an autopsy popped into David's head. He didn’t ask, thinking it would be too clinical, too intrusive. "Yea, a heart attack, that's probably what it was. Was she sick before that? Did she ever ask to see a doctor?"

"She did. She told me about it just before her death. Carlo never knew. As far as I know, he still doesn't know. About a month or so before she died, she called Michael and told him she was tired all the time, having breathing trouble. She had some chest kinda chest problem. I remember the word heaviness. David, she was frightened. Marie planned to see a doctor somewhere around Detroit, and she made Michael promise not to tell his father."

“Oh, my God. Michael didn't tell Mr. Conti? And she died.

"No. Michael never said a word. He'd always been dominated by Carlo, horribly intimidated by him. After his mother died he figured it was pointless to mention it, knowing it wouldn't change things and would only anger his father."

“Anger his father! Wasn't he angry, Michael, that is?”
Michael never got angry. I honestly think he was afraid to express anger, or any other deep emotion.”
Barnett stopped, contemplating Michael’s psyche, and the traumatic effects his father’s ridicule must have had on his emotions. Laura, noticing her date’s preoccupied look, waited. Once again, the doctor decided to change the subject.
“How about Carlo? He must have gone nuts when his wife died.”
“I’m sure he did, but I wasn’t there. Michael and I were in Toledo, and Carlo was up in West Bloomfield. By the time we found out, he was pretty calm. Soon after, he refused to talk about it.’
"He wouldn't talk about it?"

“Never. Not since the funeral. And he was quiet, very reserved at the funeral home.”
 
Once again, David, thought of Michael. "How about Michael's health problems? Did he tell his dad he was going to see Tamayo?

"No way. Never! I had to twist his arm to make him go in the first place. He asked me to arrange his office appointment. I wanted to go along but he wouldn't allow it. Carlo never knew about it until later, afterwards."

Their waiter arrived with an appetizer. Crostini al Funghi and Portabella mushroom. They resumed their conversation as the waiter served Laura a portion of the Portabella.

"May I ask how you chose Dr. Tamayo?"

"I looked in our HMO Pamphlet. We didn't know a single doctor in Toledo and I didn't know what else to do. Tamayo was in the pamphlet. He also has a very large ad in the yellow pages. It said he was both an internal medicine specialist and board certified cardiologist. It was just by chance really. His ad caught my eye."

Barnett envisioned an expensive, full page phone book ad, touting the varied talents of the spectacular Raymondo Tamayo. "Yes, I bet it did catch your eye."

"What do you mean, David?"

Barnett hesitated, again regretting what he said, the remark suggesting a lack of respect for Tamayo. He didn't want Laura to blame herself for inadvertently choosing a charlatan as her husband's physician. "Oh nothing. Tamayo's a good cardiologist. He's just a bit money oriented. I'm not surprised that he has a huge ad in the yellow pages."

"Do you think I made a mistake? Could someone better, a different doctor, have saved Michael?"

Now, Barnett really regretted his comment. He had to lie to convince Laura that Tamayo had been a good choice. "Absolutely not. Tamayo did all the right tests, just as he explained in court today. He's a very experienced and very thorough cardiologist. Believe me, Laura. You couldn't have changed a thing."

Sadness covered her face. Her head fell. David assumed he hadn't been very convincing. "Laura, I'm sorry this happened. I'm sure you loved Michael very much."

Looking up, her eyes meeting his, Laura said, "I guess I loved him. I was never sure."

David was silent, shocked by her comment. Laura continued. "I was once very much in love. It was before I met Michael. His name was Kent. We met freshman year at Hillsdale College. I was crazy about him but it didn't work out. I guess it wasn't meant to be. He left me for another girl during our junior year. I was devastated, a total mess and very vulnerable after that. That's when I met Michael. It was different with Michael. He was very kind but it was different. Something was missing. I suppose it was the passion I had so enjoyed with Kent. With Michael . . . I guess . . . I suppose I was attracted to the security, his family, their wealth, you know. Don't get me wrong, David, I loved him, but it just wasn't the same."

David paused, choosing his words carefully. "I understand. There are different kinds of love."

Laura added, "He was a truly a good person but he was so cautious, so dominated by his father. It was a problem."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. It's over now. It's all in the past and I'm okay."

Intrigued by her candor, David wondered, Could they, the two of them have real passion together? He sat in silence for a moment, imagining making love to her—imagining what it would feel like to kiss her, caress her, touch her and explore her body. He fantasized about them together in a lifelong romance. He wanted to talk about it, about the passion and love and excitement he craved. He’d gone without that for so long, many years, and he wanted to pursue all of it with Laura—wanted to delve into her mind, to excite her with romantic conversation.

"David, are you alright?"

Snapping out of his trance, he cleared his thoughts and smiled. "Sure, I'm fine. I guess I was lost in a daydream."



* * *


John Gallagher looked across the room just as the couple's waiter returned with dinner. Realizing he’d be staying longer than anticipated, the attorney ordered dessert and a Cappuccino. 


* * *


"Laura, when I asked about Carlo’s hatred for doctors, you mentioned someone named Cassie. We haven’t discussed that. Hope you don’t mind . . . Who’s Cassie?  
"She was Michael’s older sister . . . Carlo and Marie’s first child, their daughter.”

"His sister? I didn't know he had one. I reviewed Michael's medical records to prepare for this case. A sister was never mentioned."

"I know. He rarely spoke of her; it's kind of a forbidden topic, especially when Carlo's around."

"What's the connection, I mean with doctors?"

Her name was Cassandra. She died on her fifth birthday. I think it was in the early fifties, fifty-two or fifty-three."

"Oh no. So young, a five year-old. That's a tragedy. Was it some sort of accident . . . maybe a car accident.

"No. It wasn't. Apparently, there was something wrong with her heart. According to Michael she'd been sick for about two years, the two years prior to her death. She had trouble breathing. Michael never knew all the details. His mother told him a few things but his father refused to talk about Cassie. I once spoke with Marie about their daughter. That was six or seven years ago. Marie said Cassie would have 'spells'."

"What kind of spells?"


“She complained of chest pain. She'd get short of breath and turn blue, sometimes to the point of passing out. They took her to numerous doctors, some were specialists. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong. A cardiologist at Ford Hospital in Detroit, suggested it was possibly an emotional problem. Marie said they took her to a psychologist who thought Cassie was faking the spells to get more attention."

"Oh my God. Then she died?"

"Yes, died suddenly on her birthday. As you'd expect, the Conti's were beyond consolation. Cassie's death really took its toll. They were emotionally destroyed.

"I'm sure they were. This story is heartbreaking."

Laura continued, "Carlo never got over it. He never forgave the doctors for not saving her. He really hated the psychologist who said Cassie simply lacked attention from her parents. It's been over forty-years and Carlo still holds that hatred and resentment to this day."

"Wow! That explains a lot. I couldn't understand the deal with the family not seeing doctors, having no health insurance, the whole thing. It's really unfortunate. It's sad."

"I know. Marie told me Carlo went through a personality change after Cassie died. She said he'd always been somewhat of a free spirit. But he changed. He became a driven man; he wasn't content with his life. She even told me he swore he would never have another child."

"How did Michael come about?"

"I guess Michael was an accident, not planned. Marie told some very personal things, you know, two women discussing life, romance, heart break.”
David gave a nod and smiled. “Yea, I get it.”
 
She said she knew exactly when it happened—when she conceived Michael. It was  New Year's Eve, December 31st, 1960. They'd both been out to some kind of party and were drinking. Marie confided in me, told me that after Cassandra's death, Carlo became obsessed with Catholicism. She thinks he was guilt ridden about leaving the church years prior, before Cassie was born. He truly thought his daughter's death was punishment from God. That's why he refused to use birth control, because of the church. She and Carlo had been using the rhythm method. I guess they weren't careful that night."

"Well, that'll do it." They both chuckled.

"I guess it did."

"Laura, that's quite a story. As I said, Michael never mentioned his sister in any of his medical history."

"I'm not surprised. Cassie was a forbidden topic."

David, curious about the child's death, thought, a five-year-old dying suddenly. What could that be. “Laura you said she had problems with shortness of breath and chest pain?"

"Yea. That's what Marie told me."

"They didn't think it was asthma?"

"I guess not. That would be pretty easy to tell, wouldn't it?"

"That's true. It should have been. I can just imagine their crippling agony, their young daughter dying suddenly for no obvious reason. No wonder Carlo's bitter. And then, to lose a second child. Even at age thirty-eight, that's still young." The image of Michael Conti's coronary angiogram popped into David's head. He became pensive, quietly thinking. Michael had incredibly severe coronary disease for his age. No smoking history, no hypertension or diabetes. Tamayo testified that Conti's cholesterol was better than average but it just doesn't make sense.

"What are you thinking, David. You look concerned."

"No. I'm fine. I was just thinking about the Conti family. Their daughter had shortness of breath and chest pain and died abruptly at age five. Mrs. Conti died in her sleep, and since she’d sought medical attention, I must assume she had some sort of worrisome symptoms. Michael probably. . ." David paused, feeling he shouldn't discuss Michael's death anymore. He switched to Carlo. "Laura, does Carlo have any heart problems? I'm sure he's never been to a doctor. Have you ever noticed anything?"

"Well, actually I have. I've seen him put those little pills under his tongue."

"Nitroglycerin?"

"I guess. He tries to hide it and never talks about it but I've seen him on two or three occasions."

"How’d he get Nitroglycerin without a prescription.

"Oh, Carlo’s very self-sufficient. He’d find a way, even if he didn't see a doctor. What are you thinking, David, thinking about their family?"

"It's really not important, and it's just a wild hunch."

"What hunch? Come on, you have to tell me."

"Laura, it's unusual for a young girl like Cassie to have symptoms of chest pain, and then die. There's a hereditary condition that runs in some families. It's pretty rare--only present in one in five-hundred people."

"What is it?"

"It's an hereditary condition that causes extremely high cholesterol levels. So high, in fact, that young children, even infants, can die from a heart attack. It’s called Familial Hypercholesterolemia, or FH for short."

"Wouldn't the doctor have checked Cassandra's cholesterol?"

"Not back then. There was no test for cholesterol in nineteen-fifty-two. It wasn't until the sixties that the relationship between cholesterol and heart disease was recognized."

"But what about Michael? He didn't die as a child. Just because Cassie had a problem doesn't mean he had it, does it?"

"Laura, I'm just speculating. It's a rare condition and I'm probably off base. Besides, Tamayo said Michael's cholesterol was okay, actually better than average."

Laura persisted. "What if he was wrong; what if the test was screwed up. Can't that happen?"

"It's not very likely."

"But it could happen!"

"I suppose. I've seen some mixed up lab results on occasion." David peered hard at Laura. She looked overtly anxious, concerned. He regretted bringing up the whole issue.

"David, after we moved to Toledo, Michael became obsessed with his diet. He made me change the way I cook. He wouldn't eat any fat. I never understood why he was suddenly so worried about his health."

"Well, did he have his cholesterol levels checked after you moved here?"

"I don't think so. He never said so. How could he? He never went to a doctor. Like I said, I had to push him to see Tamayo." Laura thought for a second and continued. "He also started exercising like mad. I couldn't believe it. He was running every day and swimming at the gym. It was all new for him. I thought it was because he was so stressed-out at work."

"He had a rough time at work? Did he like his job?"

"He hated it. Carlo forced him into it. Michael thought he was under qualified. He was conscientious to a fault and worried about everything. It was a high level position that his father arranged for him. He had to make a lot of important decisions that didn't agree with him. It was really a lot of stress and tension."

Barnett took the opportunity to get off the cholesterol topic. "I bet your right, Laura. The cholesterol condition I mentioned is unlikely. I doubt it’s a factor. Perhaps your husband had lifelong problems with anxiety and stress. It's been shown that prolonged tension can aggravate atherosclerosis of the coronaries, you know, hardening of the arteries, so to speak.” He added, “Laura, I'm sorry I mentioned heredity."

She reached across the table and touched Barnett's hand. "It's okay. You're right. There's no point in my getting upset. I don't want to ruin the evening."

Her touch was electrifying. David felt his pulse race. He looked down at the table as she slowly withdrew her hand. "How's your dinner?"

"It's excellent, David."

"Would you like another glass of wine?"

"Maybe one more."

"Good, good, I like that. I'll have more coffee but I better switch to decaf. I've got to get some sleep tonight."

* * *
John Gallagher finished his dessert. He was getting inpatient and considered leaving but changed his mind when he saw the waiter bring their check. David and Laura made small talk as she finished her glass of wine.
 
* * *

"Laura, I've really enjoyed this. You're a great conversationalist."

"Oh, come on! I bet you say that to all your girls."

"All of my girls! What girls? I haven't had a date in years."

She looked pleased with that.

John Gallagher looked on as the pair continued talking. Another fifteen minutes dragged by. Laura finished her second glass of wine. David poured the remainder of the bottle into her glass.

"Oh, please, David. Thank you but I've had enough. I have to drive home, you know."

Barnett left cash for the tab and the couple walked together to the coat room.

"I'll walk you to your car. Where did you park?"

"I'm pretty far toward the back. The lot was really full when I got here."

"Okay. Let's go."

There was an awkward silence as they walked together across the parking lot. The doctor was nervous. It truly was his first date since leaving rehab over two years ago. He pondered a goodnight kiss and thought, If I'd been drinking, I wouldn't be so unnerved. On previous dates he was usually emboldened by intoxication. This was something new. Should I shake her hand and say it’s been a fantastic evening. I'll call you some time.

They approached her car. The air was brisk, cold enough to see your breath. Laura's auburn hair was beautifully highlighted by light coming from a nearby street lamp. David concentrated on her face and eyes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed by the chilly air. He was taken by her beauty.

"Well, Doctor B. I had a very nice time."

"So did I. Besides being fabulous company, you're incredibly beautiful.

"Oh, stop. You're much too nice."

"That's my opinion. I think you're gorgeous."

"Well, thank you very much. You're quite handsome yourself, David."

Removing her bag from her shoulder, Laura searched for her car keys. David took a step closer.

"There they are." She looked up to David just as he gave her a light peck on the cheek. Laura's eye's widened as her brows raised. "Thank you!"

In contrast to David, she was pleasantly intoxicated from two glasses of wine and wasn't the least bit nervous. "Why don't you try that again but do it right here." Laura pushed her lips out into a "kiss". David wrapped one arm around her shoulder, the other around her waist, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Her lips were full, soft and sensuous.

Other than the couple in an embrace, the parking lot was empty and silent. When Laura stood on tip-toes, to enhance their kiss, one of her high heels slipped off, snapping down on the hard, cold pavement with a loud click. The sound rang out in the chilled, crisp air, carrying quickly to the periphery of the lot, where it was heard by attorney John Gallagher, who was intently observing, safely concealed by the darkness of the night.