The word “empty” reminded Cassi of something. Had it been a dream? She glanced around the interior of the car, noting the characteristic smell of the leather, listening to the repetitive click of the windshield wipers, letting her mind wander. What was the association? Then she remembered-“empty” was the word Colonel Bentworth used to describe his life in recent years. Angry and empty, that’s what he’d said.
Emerging from the leafless woods, they sped across the salt marshes. Through the rain-swept window, Cassi caught glimpses of the bleak November landscape. Fall was gone, its last agonal bits of color driven from the naked tree limbs by the rain. Winter was coming, its arrival heralded by the damp chill of the night. They rounded the last bend, thundered over a wooden bridge, and turned into their driveway. Within the bouncing headlights, Cassi could see the outline of their house. It had originally been built around the turn of the century as a rich man’s summer home in the shingle style peculiar to New England. In the nineteen-forties it had been winterized. Its sprawling character and irregular roof line gave it a unique silhouette. Cassi liked the house, perhaps more in summer than in winter. The best part was the location. It was situated directly on a small inlet with a northern view of the sea. Although it was a forty-minute drive north of Boston, Cassi felt the commute was worth it.
As they pulled up the long driveway, Cassi thought back to when she had first started dating Thomas. They had met when she was sent to the Memorial on her internal medicine rotation her third year of medical school. She’d seen Dr. Thomas Kingsley one day on the ward. He and a group of residents who followed after him like puppies were evaluating a heart attack victim in cardiogenic shock. Cassi had watched Dr. Kingsley with fascination. She’d heard about him and was astonished that he looked so young. She found him extremely attractive, but she never thought someone as dashing as Thomas would ever give her a second glance, except perhaps to ask her an embarrassing medical question. If Thomas had seen her on that first day, he’d given no indication whatsoever.
Once within the hospital community, Cassi found that it wasn’t as intimidating as she’d feared. She worked very hard and to her amazement suddenly found herself very popular. Previously she had not had time to date, but at the Boston Memorial, work and social life merged. Cassi found herself actively pursued by most of the house staff, who taught her all sorts of things, frivolous and otherwise. Soon even some of the younger attendings began to compete, including a handsome ophthalmologist who could not take no for an answer. Cassi had never met anyone quite so single-minded and persistent, especially in front of his Beacon Hill fireplace. But it had all been fun and not serious until George Sherman asked her out. Without much encouragement from Cassandra, he sent her flowers, small presents, and then, out of the blue, proposed marriage.
Cassi did not turn George down immediately. She liked him even though she didn’t think she loved him. While she was still thinking over how best to handle things, something even more unexpected occurred. Thomas Kingsley asked her out.
Cassi remembered the intense excitement she had felt being with Thomas. He had an aura of self-assurance that some people might have labeled arrogance. But not Cassi. She felt he simply knew what he wanted and made decisions with bewildering rapidity. When Cassi tried to talk about her diabetes early in their relationship, Thomas dismissed the subject as a problem of the past. He gave her all the confidence she’d lacked since third grade.
It had been difficult for Cassi to face George and tell him that not only did she not want to marry him, but she had fallen in love with his colleague. George took the news with seeming composure and said he’d still like to be her friend. When she saw him on occasion in the hospital afterward, he seemed more concerned about her happiness than the fact that she had jilted him.
Thomas was charming, considerate, and gallant, a far cry from what Cassi expected. She’d heard that he was famous for intense but short relationships. Although he rarely told her that he loved her, he showed it in many ways. He took Cassi on teaching rounds with the fellows and had her come to the OR to see special cases. For their first Christmas together he bought her an antique diamond bracelet. Then on New Year’s Eve he asked Cassandra to marry him.
Cassi had never intended to get married while in medical school. But Thomas Kingsley was the kind of man that she had not even allowed herself to dream about. She might never meet anyone like him, and since Thomas was in medicine himself, she was confident it would not hinder her work. Cassi said yes and Thomas was ecstatic.
They were married on the lawn in front of Thomas’s house in view of the sea. Most of the hospital staff had attended and afterward referred to it as the social event of the year. Cassi could remember every moment of that glorious spring day. The sky had been a faraway blue, not unlike Thomas’s eyes. The sea had been relatively calm, with small white caps licked by the westerly breeze.
The reception was sumptuously catered, the lawn dotted with medieval-looking tents from the top of which heraldic flags snapped in the wind. Cassi had never been so happy, and Thomas appeared proud, ever mindful of the smallest details.
When everyone had left, Thomas and Cassi walked the beach, mindless of the icy surf grabbing at their ankles.
Cassi had never felt quite so happy nor quite so secure. They spent the night at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston before leaving for Europe.
After they had returned from their honeymoon, Cassi went back to her studies but ever mindful of her powerful mentor. In every conceivable way, Thomas helped Cassi. She’d always been a good student, but with Thomas’s help and encouragement, she excelled beyond her wildest expectations. He continued to encourage her to come frequently to the OR to see particularly interesting cases and, while she rotated on surgery, to have her assist, experiences which other medical students could only dream about. Two years later, when it came to graduate study, it was the pathology department that recruited Cassi, not vice versa.
Perhaps the memory that warmed Cassi’s heart more than any other was the weekend she graduated from medical school. Thomas had acted subdued from the moment they’d awakened that morning, which Cassi had attributed to a complicated surgical case Thomas was expecting. During dinner the night before, he’d told Cassi about a patient who was scheduled to be flown in from out of state. He’d apologized for not being able to take her to the celebration dinner the evening after the commencement, and although she was disappointed, Cassi had assured Thomas that she understood.
During the ceremony, Thomas had made a fool of himself and embarrassed Cassi by following her to the podium and taking hundreds of flash pictures with his Pentax. Afterward, when Cassi expected him to disappear abruptly to surgery, he led her across the lawn to an awaiting limousine. Confused, Cassi climbed into the long black Cadillac. Inside were two long-stemmed glasses and a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon.
As if in a fantasy, Cassi was whisked out to Logan Airport and hurried aboard a commuter flight to Nantucket. She tried to protest that she had no clothes and could not possibly go without first returning home, but Thomas had assured her that every detail had been attended to and indeed it had. He showed her a bag, packed with all her makeup and medicine, as well as some new clothes, including the sexiest pink silk Ted Lapidus dress Cassi had ever seen.
They only stayed for a single night, but what a night. Their room was the master suite of an old sea captain’s mansion that had been converted to a charming country inn. The decor was early Victorian with a huge canopy bed and period wallpaper. There was no television and more importantly, no telephone. Cassi had the delicious sensation of total isolation and privacy.