“Where do I have to go?” He jotted down an address that was only five blocks away. She could easily walk it.
“The entire procedure will take five minutes.”
“Will they give me the results right there?”
“Probably not. They collect the films for the doctor to look at, when he comes in, and he might not be there. He'll call me next week, and give me the results. And of course I'll call you if there's a problem, but I'm very sure there won't be. This is just good medicine, Alex. It's wise to do this.”
“I know, John.” She appreciated how careful he was, it was just annoying to have to make time, but she knew it was worth it.
She called Carmen from his secretary's desk and asked her to pick up Annabelle at school. She said she'd be home for lunch, and she would take her to ballet. She just had an errand to do on the way home. And Carmen said it was no problem.
Alex left Dr. Anderson's office then and walked briskly down Park Avenue to Sixty-eighth Street between Lexington and Park, and into what looked like a very busy office. A dozen women were sitting in the waiting room, and several technicians appeared frequently in the doorway to call their names and keep them moving. Alex gave her name to the receptionist, and hoped it wouldn't take too long, as two more women arrived. They seemed to be doing a booming business, and she noticed that with the exception of only one fairly young girl, most of the women were her age or older.
She glanced absently at a magazine, looked at her watch several times, and ten minutes after she'd arrived, a woman in a white coat came to the doorway of the waiting room and called her name. There was something very loud and impersonal about the way she said it, but Alex followed her without a word. There was something strangely invasive about having people search you for disease, as though you were carrying a concealed weapon. There was an implication of guilt just by being here, and as Alex unbuttoned her blouse she realized that she felt both angry and frightened. It was terrifying. What if there was something there? What if they found something? But as her mind started to play tricks on her and convince her she was doomed, she forced herself to realize that this was just routine. It was no more ominous than her Pap smear. The only difference was that it was being performed by strangers instead of by people she knew, but other than that, there was no difference.
The woman in the white coat stood by while she undressed, and she offered her a gown, and told her to leave it open down the front, but other than that, there was no conversation. She pointed to a sink and some towels and told Alex to wipe off any deodorant or perfume, and then pointed to a machine standing in a corner. It looked like a large X-ray machine, and had a plastic tray and some shields somewhere in the middle. Having washed while the other woman watched, Alex walked to the machine, anxious to get it over with, and the technician rested Alex's breast on the plastic tray, and then proceeded to slowly lower the upper part of the machine down on her breast and squeeze it. The technician tightened the machine as much as possible, draped Alex's arm awkwardly, told her to hold her breath, and then took two pictures, and repeated the same procedure on the other side, and told her it was over. It was actually very simple and it was more uncomfortable than truly painful. It would have been nice to know the results then and there, but Alex felt confident that they would be fine when they called her doctor on Monday.
She left the office as quickly as she had come, grabbed a cab home, and was there in time to watch Annabelle finish her lunch and dress her for ballet. And for some odd reason, it felt better than ever to be there. One couldn't totally ignore the statistics that forced women to have mammograms each year. One in eight or one in nine women would be struck with breast cancer in their lifetime, depending on the source of the statistics. Even having been near them, having been tested for it, made one shudder a little, and be grateful for the simple blessings in one's life, like taking a child to a ballet class. And Alex couldn't help but think how lucky she was, as she stooped to kiss Annabelle's bright red curls as they left for Miss Tilly's.
“Why didn't you pick me up at school?” Annabelle asked plaintively. Alex picking her up at school on Fridays was a ritual she was used to and loved, and she resented any deviation from it.
“I had to go to the doctor for a checkup, and he took longer than I thought, sweetheart. I'm sorry.”
“Are you sick?” She looked suddenly worried and protective of her mother.
“Of course not.” Alex smiled. “But everybody has to get checkups, even mommies and daddies.”
“Did he give you a shot?” She looked intrigued, and Alex laughed as she shook her head.
“No,” but they squeezed my boob flat as a pancake … “I didn't need one.”
“Good.” Annabelle looked relieved as she skipped along beside her mother.
They proceeded to Miss Tilly's uneventfully after that, and after class they went out for ice cream, and then walked home slowly, talking about what they were going to do over the weekend. Annabelle wasn't too excited about going to the zoo. She wanted to go to the beach to swim, and Alex was explaining to her that it was too cold now to do that.
When they got home, Alex put on a video for her, and they lay down on Alex's bed and relaxed together. It seemed as though it had been a long day, preparing for the trial, and having the mammogram had left her feeling drained, and she was happy to stay home and relax with her daughter.
Carmen went home early on Friday afternoons, and Alex had dinner ready when Sam got home, later than usual, at seven. She had already fed Annabelle by then, and he opted to wait to eat until Annabelle went to bed, which sounded good to Alex too. And at eight-fifteen, they were sitting in the kitchen eating fish and baked potatoes and salad, and he was telling her about his lunch with the Englishman, who had impressed him a lot more this time.
“You know, I'm actually feeling very positive about him. I think I was just worrying unduly. Larry and Tom are right. The guy is a whiz, and he could bring us some fantastic business from the Middle East. You can't ignore that, even if he is a little flashy.”
“And if he doesn't bring in business from the Middle East?” she asked cautiously.
“He will. You should hear his client list from Saudi alone.”
“And will they follow him here?” Alex was playing devil's advocate, but Sam didn't mind it. He felt comfortable now about the new man, and he had green-lighted the decision to take him in as a fourth partner. “Are you sure, Sam? You were so worried about him yesterday. Maybe you ought to trust that.”
“I think I was being hysterical. Honestly, Alex, I talked to the guy for three hours today …he's the real thing. I know it. We're going to make billions,” he said confidently.
“Don't be greedy,” she scolded with a grin. “Does this mean we can buy a chateau in the South of France?”
“No, but possibly a town house in New York, and an estate on Long Island.”
“We don't need that,” she said easily, and he smiled. He didn't need it either but he liked being the whiz kid of the financial world. It meant a lot to him. He liked the acclaim he had gotten from being brilliant with venture capital. His reputation and his success meant a lot to him, as well as his profits, which was why she thought he should be very careful about their new partner. But she trusted his judgment. And if the Englishman had convinced him, she was prepared to accept that.
“How did your meetings go this morning?” he asked her. “All set for your trial next week?” He took a strong interest in her work too. Until Annabelle had come along, it was what had energized their life together.
“As much as I'm going to be. I think we'll be okay. I hope so. My client really deserves to win this one.”
“He will, with you defending him,” Sam said confidently, and she leaned over and kissed him. He looked handsome in a red sweater and jeans. He always looked good to her, better and better lately.