After some small talk, Dorothy dragged Laurie down the hall to the library where Sheldon Montgomery was showing Jordan Scheffield some rare medical textbooks.
“Sheldon, introduce your daughter to Dr. Scheffield,” Dorothy commanded, interrupting her husband in midsentence.
Both men looked up from a book in Sheldon’s hands. Laurie’s gaze went from her father’s dour aristocratic face to Jordan Scheffield’s, and she was pleasantly surprised. She had expected Jordan to look more like her image of an ophthalmologist; that he’d be older, heavier, stodgy, and far less attractive. But the man who stood before her was dramatically handsome with sandy blond hair, tanned skin, bright blue eyes, and rugged, angular features. Not only didn’t he look like an ophthalmologist, he didn’t even look like a doctor. He looked more like a professional athlete. He was even taller than her father, who was six-two. And instead of a glenn plaid suit like her father was wearing, he had on tan slacks, a blue blazer, and a white shirt open at the collar. He wasn’t even wearing a tie.
Laurie shook hands with Jordan as Sheldon made the introductions. His grip was forceful and sure. He looked directly into her eyes and smiled pleasantly.
The fact that Sheldon liked Jordan was immediately apparent to Laurie as he pounded him on the back, insisting he get him some more of the special Scotch he usually hid when company came. Sheldon went to get the prized liquor, leaving Laurie alone with Jordan.
“Your parents are extremely hospitable,” Jordan said.
“They can be,” Laurie said. “They enjoy entertaining. They certainly were looking forward to your coming tonight.”
“I’m glad to be here,” Jordan said. “Your father had nothing but nice things to say about you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you,” Laurie said. She was mildly surprised to hear that her father had spoken of her at all, let alone spoken well. “Likewise,” said Laurie. “Frankly, you’re not what I’d expected.”
“What did you expect?” Jordan asked.
“Well,” said Laurie, suddenly slightly embarrassed, “I thought you’d look like an ophthalmologist.”
Throwing his head back, Jordan laughed heartily. “And just what does an ophthalmologist look like?”
Laurie was relieved when her father came back with Jordan ’s refill, thus sparing her an explanation. Her father told Jordan that he wanted to show him some ancient surgical instruments in the den. As Jordan obediently followed his host, he sent a conspiratorial smile Laurie’s way.
At dinner, Jordan was responsible for lightening the atmosphere. He managed to force even the most reserved of Laurie’s parents’ friends to open up. Hearty laughter filled the room for the first time in recent memory.
Sheldon encouraged Jordan to tell certain stories he’d told Sheldon about his famous patients. Jordan was only too happy to oblige, and he recounted the stories in an exuberant, almost boastful manner that had everyone laughing. Even Laurie’s emotional day receded into the background as she heard Jordan ’s amusing tales of the rich and famous who passed through his office each day.
Jordan ’s specialty was the anterior part of the eye, particularly the cornea. But he also did some plastic surgery, even cosmetic plastic surgery. He’d treated celebrities ranging from movie stars to royalty. He had everyone in stitches about a prince from Saudi Arabia who’d come to his office along with dozens of servants. Then he went on to name drop a few sports figures he was treating. Finally, he mentioned he’d even treated the occasional Mafioso.
“As in Mafia?” Dorothy asked with horrified disbelief.
“Absolutely,” Jordan said. “God is my witness. Honest-to-goodness mobsters. In fact just this month I’ve been seeing a Paul Cerino, who is obviously connected to the underworld over in Queens.”
Laurie choked on her white wine at Jordan ’s mention of Paul Cerino’s name. Hearing it for the second time that day startled her. The conversation stopped as everyone looked at her with concern. She waved off their attention and managed to say she was all right. Once she could speak again, she asked Jordan what he was treating Paul Cerino for.
“Acid burns in his eyes,” Jordan said. “Someone had thrown acid into his face. Luckily he had been smart enough to rinse his eyes with water almost immediately.”
“Acid! How dreadful,” Dorothy said.
“It’s not as bad as alkali. Alkali can eat right through the cornea.”
“Sounds ghastly,” Dorothy said.
“How are Cerino’s eyes doing?” Laurie asked. She was thinking of Frank DePasquale’s right eye, wondering if that could be the beginning of the break that Lou had been hoping for.
“The acid opacified both corneas,” Jordan said. “But the fact that he washed his eyes out saved the conjunctiva from extensive damage. So he should do well with corneal transplants which we’ll be doing soon.”
“Does it frighten you to be involved with these people?” one guest asked.
“Not at all,” Jordan said. “They need me. I’m of use to them. They wouldn’t harm me. In fact I find it all rather comical and entertaining.”
“How do you know this Cerino is a mobster?” one of the other guests asked.
Jordan gave a short laugh. “It’s pretty apparent. He comes in with several bodyguards who have obvious telltale bulges in their suits.”
“Paul Cerino is a known mobster,” Laurie said. “He’s one of the midlevel bosses of the Vaccarro crime family, which is currently warring with the Lucia organization.”
“How do you know that?” Dorothy asked.
“This morning I autopsied a gangland-style execution victim. The authorities believe the murder was a direct result of the feud, and they would like nothing better than to associate the killing with Paul Cerino.”
“How hideous!” Dorothy said with disdain. “Laurie, that’s enough! Let’s talk about something else.”
“This isn’t appropriate dinner conversation,” Sheldon agreed. Then, turning to Jordan, he added: “You’ll have to excuse my daughter. Since she abandoned her medical education and went into pathology, she’s somewhat lost her sense of etiquette.”
“Pathology?” Jordan questioned. He looked over at Laurie. “You didn’t tell me you are a pathologist.”
“You didn’t ask me,” Laurie said. She smiled to herself, knowing that Jordan had been too busy talking about his own affairs to have asked about hers. “Actually I’m a forensic pathologist currently working for the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner here in New York.”
“Maybe we should talk about this season at Lincoln Center,” Dorothy suggested.
“I don’t know much about forensics,” Jordan said. “We only had two lectures on it in medical school and before them we were told that the material would not be on the exam. So guess what I did?” Jordan pretended to fall asleep by snoring and allowing his head to drop onto his chest.
Sheldon laughed at Jordan ’s antics. “We only had one lecture and I cut it,” he confessed.
“I think we should change the subject,” Dorothy said.
“The problem with Laurie,” Sheldon said to Jordan, “was that she didn’t go into surgery, where she could have been dealing with the living. We have a gal in the thoracic program who’s unbelievable, as good as a man. Laurie could have done equally as well.”
It took every ounce of self-restraint Laurie possessed not to lash out at her father’s inane, sexist remark. Instead, she calmly defended her specialty. “Forensics very much deals with the living, and it does it by speaking for the dead.” She told the story of the curling iron and how knowledge of the cause of that fatality could potentially save someone else’s life.
When Laurie finished, there was an uncomfortable pause. Everyone looked down at their place settings and toyed with their flatware. Even Jordan seemed strangely subdued. Finally Dorothy broke the silence by announcing that dessert and cognac would be served in the living room.