Then don't, Laurie said to herself. She was disappointed. She had allowed herself to be set up after all. She didn't want to talk about her mother.
"… but I'm sure you are aware there is a hereditary aspect to breast cancer."
"I am," Laurie said. She looked at Jack with exasperation, wondering where he was going with this conversation.
"I don't know if your mother has been tested for the markers indicating BRCA gene mutations, but the results would have significance concerning treatment. More important for you, it would have significance concerning prevention. One way or the other, I think you should definitely be tested. I mean, I don't want to alarm you, but it would be prudent."
"My mother is positive for a BRCA mutation," Laurie admitted.
Some of her anger, although not her disappointment, abated when she realized that Jack was being solicitous about her health and not just her mother's.
"That's an even greater reason for you to be tested," Jack said. "Have you thought about it?"
"I've thought about it," Laurie admitted. "But I'm not convinced it would have much significance and may just add to my anxiety. I'm not about to have my breasts and ovaries removed."
"Mastectomy and oophorectomy are not the only preventive measures available," Jack said. "Last night, I went on the Internet and read up on all this."
Laurie found herself almost smiling. She wondered if she and Jack had visited the same websites.
"More frequent mammograms is another option," Jack added. "Eventually, you might even consider tamoxifen treatment. But that's down the road. Anyway, the bottom line is that it just makes sense. I mean, if this predictive information is available, you should do it. In fact, I would like to ask you to do it. No, I take that back. I would like to plead with you to do it… for me."
To Laurie's surprise, Jack leaned forward and gripped her forearm with unexpected strength to emphasize his commitment to the cause.
"You're really convinced?" Laurie questioned, marveling at the "for me" part.
"Absolutely! No question!" Jack responded. "Even if the only effect is to make you more prone to have regular checkups. That would be an enormously positive effect. Laurie, please!"
"Is it a blood test? I don't even know."
"Yes, it's a simple blood test. Do you have a primary-care physician over at the Manhattan General, where we are now obligated to go?"
"Not yet," Laurie admitted. "But I can call my old college chum, Sue Passero. She's on staff in internal medicine. I'm sure she could set me up."
"Perfect," Jack said. He rubbed his hands together. "Should I call to make sure you do it?"
Laurie laughed. "I'll do it."
"Today."
"All right, for goodness' sakes. I'll do it today."
"Thank you," Jack said. He released Laurie's arm that he'd been firmly clutching. "Now that we've got that settled, I want to ask about whether we can compromise about your moving out of my apartment."
For a moment, Laurie was nonplussed. Just when she thought Jack wasn't going to bring up their relationship, he did.
"As I said," he continued, "I missed you last night. Worst of all, my basketball game was a disaster. The defenses I had carefully erected against your absence had been undermined by a pregame run-in with a pair of your pantyhose."
"What pantyhose?" Laurie asked, raising her guard again. She purposefully didn't laugh at Jack's reversion to witty sarcasm. For her, there was nothing funny about suggesting that Jack's prowess on the basketball court was a determining factor in her moving back to his apartment.
"A pair you left in the bathroom. But don't worry, they're safely ensconced in the bureau."
"What do you mean by 'compromise'?" Laurie asked dubiously.
Jack fidgeted in his chair. It was apparent that he was uncomfortable with the question. Laurie let him take all the time he wanted. Finally, he made a gesture of confusion by hunching his shoulders and extending his free hand, palm up. "We'll agree to make sure we discuss the issues on a regular basis."
Laurie's heart sank. "That's no compromise," she said with a voice that reflected her discouragement. "Jack, we both know what the issues are. At this point, more talk is not going to solve anything. I know that sounds contrary to what I've usually said about the importance of communication. The fact of the matter is that I've been compromising from the beginning, and particularly over the last year. I think I understand where you are coming from, and I'm sympathetic, which is what has kept me in a circumstance that has not been satisfying my needs. It's really as simple as that. I believe we love each other, but we're at a crossroads. I'm not twenty-five anymore. I need a family; I need commitment. To use one of your expressions, the ball is in your court. It's your decision. Talk is superfluous at this point. I'm not going to try to convince you, which, at this stage, talk would begin to sound like. And one final point: I didn't leave in a moment of pique. It's been a long time coming."
For a few minutes, they merely stared at each other without moving. Finally, Laurie was the one who moved. She leaned forward and gave Jack's thigh a squeeze just above the knee. "This doesn't mean I don't want to talk in general," she said. "It doesn't mean we're not friends. It just means that unless we can truly compromise, I'll be better off staying at my apartment. And meanwhile, I'll get back to my diversion."
Laurie stood up, smiled down at Jack without rancor, and then walked back through the communications room en route to the elevator.
seven
WITH A MIGHTY YAWN THAT brought tears to her eyes, Laurie put down her pencil, stretched, and then viewed her handiwork. She had created a matrix on a piece of graph paper that had the names of the four patients of her supposed series on the left-hand side of the page. Running along the top of the page and creating columns were all parameters of the cases that she thought might be important, including: the age of the patient, the sex of the patient, the type of surgery involved, the name of the surgeon, the anesthesiologist and anesthetic agent used, the sedative and pain medication employed, where in the hospital the patient was boarded, how the patient was discovered and by whom, the time the patient was discovered, who did the autopsy, any potentially relevant pathology, and the toxicology results.
Currently, Laurie had preliminary entries in all the boxes of her matrix, except for the names of the surgeons and anesthesiologists, the type of anesthetic and drugs used, the toxicology results on the two cases she had posted, and any possible relevant pathology on Darlene Morgan. To fill in the empty boxes, she needed the hospital charts and the continued cooperation of Peter and Maureen. In the toxicology boxes of the two cases posted by Kevin and George, Laurie had written: negative screen, further testing pending.
One piece of information that the matrix had already brought to her attention, which she thought important and mildly damning for her theory of a serial killer, was that the cases were not on the same ward. Two of the patients had been on the general surgical floor, while the other two had been on the orthopedic and neurosurgical floor. Since none of the patients had had neurosurgery and since one of the orthopedic cases had been on general surgery, Laurie had already called the Manhattan General admitting office for an explanation. The explanation turned out to be simple: Because the hospital operated at near capacity, beds frequently had to be allocated irrespective of the type of surgery.
From the moment Laurie had left Jack in the ID room, she had been a human dynamo in regard to investigating the four patients. Her motivation was twofold. There was the continued need for a diversion to keep from obsessing about her own problems, as Jack had surmised. That hadn't changed. What had changed was a strong desire to vindicate her intuitive belief that these cases did not represent a coincidence. Jack's blithe dismissal of the idea had been both belittling and galling.