Reverie. Candace Gold

Чтение книги онлайн.

      “Nikki…Nikki, please don’t throw that!” Jonathan Greene shouted, ducking to avoid being struck by a crystal vase. “Have you lost your mind?”

      “Ironic question coming from the likes of you,” she fired verbally at him this time, eyes lit with anger and nostrils flaring as she stood there, hands on hips, panting.

      Her face turned a bright crimson, nearly as red as her hair, while her blue eyes darkened to the color of thunder clouds. Jonathan had never seen her so angry. His hopes of placating her with some good-old-fashioned psychology had been doused by the cold water from the vase.

      “You knew how much that damn awards dinner meant to me,” she shot her words at him like staccato bullets between ragged breaths. “I was counting on you to be there.”

      “And I would have been if I’d not had a last minute emergency to tend to.”

      “Lately, you always have some kind of emergency,” she countered, glaring at him.

      “I’m a doctor, for God’s sake.”

      “You’re a psychologist. It’s not like you’re an obstetrician on call.”

      Jonathan laughed at her glib reply. “I’m there to save suicidal women, so they live to have babies.”

      “Don’t you dare use my own words against me!”

      Jonathan moved closer to her, wanting to enfold her in his arms and defuse her anger with kisses.

      “Stop right there! Don’t you dare come any closer, either,” she said, fending him off with outstretched palms.

      “Can’t we talk this out civilly?” Jonathan tried to reason with her.

      “No!” She shook her head, her long red hair whipping about her face like angry tongues of fire. “Just get out of here and leave me alone.”

      Jonathan made one final attempt to reach her, but she shook her head. “No! What part of ‘get out’ don’t you understand?”

      He sighed, conceding there was no way he’d be able to reach Nikki tonight. She was too upset. Perhaps he’d speak to her tomorrow, after she’d had the chance to cool off. He grabbed his trench coat off the arm of the chair and headed toward the door. Opening it, he turned to say something, but she screamed, “Get out!”

      As Jonathan closed the door behind him, he heard her yell, “Damn you, Jonathan!” The words were punctuated by the sound of glass shattering against the door.

      * * * *

      Nikki O’Connell collapsed against the kitchen wall and slid to the floor like rain running down the side of a building. Energy spent, her anger was replaced by acute disappointment and hurt. This hadn’t been the first special event Jonathan had missed because some other woman needed him to hold her hand. The man obviously had his priorities screwed up. He should have been with her, holding her hand, not some crazy woman’s. He wasn’t the only psychologist in town. Nor was he some Super Doc out to save the world. Or was he on a mission?

      Then her focus suddenly shifted. Fear began to spider down her spine as she realized how irrational she’d just behaved–as if she was crazy. Had she been losing her temper more and more, lately? Was she becoming angry over the simplest of things, like having to wait on line at the supermarket because the cashier needed a price? Was her ability to cope slipping? The mere hint there could be some psychological reason for this happening terrified her.

      She closed her eyes tightly, as if doing so could block out those awful thoughts. Could her actions be symptomatic of the onset of dementia? Was this how her mother’s descent into madness had begun? Had her mother become as easily angered and argumentative? No! Of course not! Nikki hadn’t wanted to think about it. The very thought she might have inherited her mother’s defective genes scared Nikki more than anything else. “No!” she shook her head. “I am not my mother!”

      Taking a few deep breaths to slow down her heart, she thought she was overanalyzing how she’d reacted. There was no comparison to her mother, she reasoned as well as convinced herself. Her actions tonight were merely the result of extreme frustration with Jonathan. She couldn’t help it if she had a short fuse which happened to ignite her volatile temper. No. She mustn’t read more into it, she concluded.

      Nikki slowly rose to her feet. It was time to rein in her emotions, and a cup of tea would help. As she prepared it, she could feel herself becoming calmer and more rational. The journalist part of her tried to view things from Jonathan’s perspective. He was a doctor trained to heal sick people. Though his patients’ ailments were mental, rather than physical, they were illnesses, just the same. Therefore, he had gone to the woman’s aid simply because he was doing his job. What kind of psychologist would he be if he had ignored her pleas? Despite this logical rationalization, Nikki still felt hurt. Even doctors had the right to an occasional night off, leaving the care of their patients to associate doctors.

      No one likes to sit alone at one important function after another with her significant other elsewhere. That thought brought her straight back to the reason she was furious with Jonathan in the first place. Along with it came the realization that things might never change. There would always be people in crisis. And Jonathan, the self-appointed guardian angel of the mentally ill, would continue to feel compelled to help them all.

      Maybe it was time for her to reexamine their relationship and decide if she wanted to remain committed to it. There was no way to tell how many other future disappointments there might be or if she’d ever actually accept them. Being so close to the situation at the moment, was it possible for her to make any rational decisions concerning her future? Perhaps she needed time and space away from Jonathan in order to think more clearly. Maybe she should take a long-overdue vacation and go someplace to relax.

      Vacation. Where to? There was a big world out there with hundreds of places she’d never been. Suddenly inside her head, as if an internal radio had been turned on, an orchestra began to play the melody Under Paris Skies. As the music played, images of the Eiffel Tower, the Arch of Triumph and the Louvre appeared in her mind’s eye.

      “Paris!” she shouted. “Yes! Of course, Paris!” Her tears stopped flowing as more of these happy thoughts came to mind. She’d always wanted to go to Paris, ever since her grandmother had first shown her those wonderful pictures and postcards sent from her vacationing parents. There seemed no better time to go than the present. She had at least a month’s worth of vacation time coming to her. Of course, she’d never actually be able to get away for that long, but СКАЧАТЬ