Twisting Topeka (9 page)

“
You don’t need to do
anything special for me,” Melanie insisted. Mrs. Lewis pulled a
sheet off the top of the stack and quickly tucked it around the
bare mattress as Melanie rushed around the bed to help.

“
Well, we
are
doing something
special, so you need to dress appropriately.” She grabbed the next
sheet, unfolding it across the bed with a quick flick of the
wrists. Melanie grabbed the hem on her side and began
straightening.

“
Why?” Melanie
asked.

“
Orders from your father,”
the maid snapped. “Oh…” She slapped her hand on her forehead, “I
forgot about the asparagus.” Melanie stepped toward her, but Mrs.
Lewis waved her away.

“
I can finish this,”
Melanie insisted. “You go back to the kitchen, and I’ll be down to
help in a minute.”

“
There’s not time,” Mrs.
Lewis explained, walking to the door. “Look your best,” she said.
“And for goodness sakes, be at the table by eight.” She hurried out
of the room, closing the door.

Melanie moved the bedspread and towels
from the chair to her bed and sat down. She picked up her alarm
clock, then tossed it on the bed. Seven-fifty. She had nine minutes
to freshen her hair and makeup and see what might be hanging in her
closet.

As she hurried down the stairs,
Melanie reached behind her and tugged the zipper on her white
shimmering gown all the way up, to the middle of her back. She was
ecstatic that this dress, which she had worn to the hospital’s
fundraising gala, was still in her closet. She swayed across the
marble in the foyer, almost gliding to the dining room entrance.
The dining table, which she could see from the foyer, looked
glorious, set with her mother’s silver rimmed china. She caught a
whiff of the soup, probably a broth laced with herbs and, maybe,
mushrooms. About to step into the dining room, Melanie realized the
man sitting in her father’s seat was not her father. She did a
quick spin and leaned against the foyer wall.

Melanie searched her mind for all her
father’s friends and the other doctors at the hospital, but no one
looked even similar to the man she had just seen. His dark hair,
brown eyes, and handsome features would be unmistakable. She had
never met this man.

She ran through the foyer straight to
the other kitchen entrance. Mrs. Lewis was about to push through
the swinging kitchen door to the dining room. She held a silver
tray which carried the soup bowl and silver ladle, but when she saw
Melanie she stepped away from the door. “Why aren’t you at the
table?” Mrs. Lewis whispered.

“
Who is that man?” Melanie
demanded.

“
Shhh….” Mrs. Lewis placed
her finger over her lip. “I don’t know.”

“
What?”

“
He’s our guest. Staying
with us tonight. Very important man. You need to impress
him.”

“
Where’s
Father?”

“
Delayed. One of his
patients…I don’t know,” Mrs. Lewis finally said. “There’s a problem
at the hospital.”

“
So I’m entertaining this
man—a complete stranger—alone?”

“
Yes.” Mrs. Lewis snapped.
“You have ten seconds to get in your chair so I can get this soup
in front of you. You know I don’t like—.”

“
Oh, I know.” Melanie said.
“You don’t like serving cold soup. And I don’t like eating it.” She
hustled back to the dining room only to find herself alone in the
room. She sat down just as Mrs. Lewis pushed through the door and
dropped her jaw.

“
Where is he?” the maid
whispered.

“
I don’t know,” Melanie
replied.

Mrs. Lewis ladled soup into Melanie’s
bowl and then placed the large soup tureen next to the place set
for the guest. She went back into the kitchen, shaking her head.
Melanie retrieved her soup spoon and scooped up a bit of broth,
blowing across it gently.

“
My apologies.” At the
sound of his voice, Melanie dropped the spoon and stood straight
up. The unknown gentleman was beside her, reaching for her hand.
Melanie offered it, and he kissed it gently. “I’m sorry to delay
dinner, but I had to adjust my eyeglasses.” He tweaked the black
frames on his face, but Melanie couldn’t remember seeing them on
him before. “I’m Dr. Fritzl,” he said in a heavy German
accent.

“
A pleasure to meet you.
I’m Melanie Rains. Please sit down, and I’ll serve you some
soup.”

Melanie followed him to his chair, but
before she could pick up the ladle Mrs. Lewis burst through the
door and gave her a “find your seat, child,” stare. Melanie
obliged, allowing the maid to do her job. As Melanie was about to
taste the soup she heard the rattle of tags on Beau’s collar. He
wasn’t allowed in the dining room, so Melanie assumed he was
stretching out on the cool marble floor just off dining
room.

“
Do you work with my
father?” Melanie asked the gentleman.

“
I will be for a short
time.” Dr. Fritzl took a spoonful of soup and smiled at her. “I
hope to observe his methods and understand his research while
taking in the management of the clinic, sanitarium and the peaceful
grounds.”

“
Oh…Menninger’s is a
wonderful place,” Melanie confirmed. “Renowned.”

“
Yes.” The doctor smiled at
her again, and she found herself sincerely smiling back.

Melanie ate her soup, not minding that
it was cold. She heard the jingle of Beau’s tags again, and glanced
to the foyer, but he wasn’t to be seen. “I assume you’re a
psychiatrist, like my father.”

“
I studied in Vienna,” he
said.

“
Really? At the
University?” She put down her spoon for the last time. “Under
Freud?” Mrs. Lewis brought in the main course and side
dish.

“
Oh yes. I attended many
lectures by Dr. Freud.”

“
May he rest in peace,”
Melanie quickly added.

Dr. Fritzl shifted his weight and took
a sip of wine. “Yes. Good man.”

Melanie cut into her chicken. “I’m so
happy you’re dining with us—I mean, me—tonight. Rosemary chicken is
Mrs. Lewis’ specialty.”

“
Divine,” he said after a
bite. “Simply divine.”

Melanie sat down her silverware and
leaned back. “You remind me of someone,” she said. “But I can’t
place whom.”

“
Perhaps I have a common
face.”

“
Oh, no,” she
remarked.
In fact his face was markedly
uncommon.... good looking enough to cause her to blush. She quickly
reached for her wine.
“I think you look
like someone who I’ve seen recently.”

He took another bite of chicken then
tapped his fork in the air. “I’ve got it. Perhaps you’ve seen my
picture in one of your father’s medical journals.”

“
Never read
them.”

He shrugged while cutting his
asparagus.

“
But I do know a lot about
psychiatry and psychoanalysis,” she explained.

“
Are you studying that at
the Kansas University?”

She swirled her wine for a moment. “I
don’t remember telling you I went to school there.”

“
Your father told me, but
he didn’t mention your field of study.”

“
Anthropology.” She
finished her wine and wondered where Mrs. Lewis was with the wine
bottle. Melanie guessed the woman’s ear was glued to the other side
of the door. “But I was telling you about my understanding of
psychiatry—from growing up and listening to my father. Just this
afternoon I had the most interesting experience. I wish you could
have been there.”

“
Tell me about
it.”

She recounted meeting Reginald in the
park and explained that she was confident his fiancée, Loraine, was
being treated at Menninger’s. When Melanie told Dr. Fritzl that the
poor man was contemplating selling his farm she began to tear up,
and noticed Dr. Fritzl doing the same. When she finished her story
he sat back with his wine, spinning the stem of his glass between
his fingers, watching the liquid react against the movement of the
glass.

“
Tomorrow I’m going to find
out exactly who this Loraine is,” he said. “I’ll assist in her
care.” He finished off the glass. “I’m here on a special grant,
Miss Rains, and can do with the funds as I see fit. If Loraine is
my patient, and I document her situation and my conclusions, it’s
reasonable to me her care should be funded by the grant. I’ll make
it my mission to track down Reginald before he sells his farm. No
one should have to lose their home and livelihood to get treatment.
Not if I have a say.”

Melanie pressed her hands over her
face and tears released everywhere. “That’s…I…” she wiped her eyes
with her napkin. “You’re so generous and compassionate. I could
kiss you.”

“
You’re too kind. It’s my
obligation,” he said. Dr. Fritzl had the last few bites of dinner
and lavished praise upon Mrs. Lewis when she came through the door
with the wine bottle. After she filled both glasses and went into
the kitchen, he leaned forward toward Melanie. “I feel we’re being
chaperoned, don’t you?”

Melanie burst out laughing. “Yes. She
treats me like a child, but so do my parents. You’ve had time to
analyze me, Doctor. Is my inner child dominating?”

“
Your outer woman
dominates,” he said. “And your inner woman is running a close
second.”

She put the chilled wine glass to her
cheek. “That’s romantic.”

“
I assume Mrs. Lewis has
prepared a tasty dessert for us.”

“
Oh…I’m sure.”

“
And that she will be
serving it any minute.”

“
Yes.”

“
And that you’re looking
forward to it, as I am.”

“
Well…”

“
But what would happen if
we weren’t here when she brought in the desserts?”

Melanie moved the cool wine glass to
her other cheek. “Go on…”

“
What if we were in the
drawing room, listening to something on the phonograph?”

“
Mrs. Lewis would never
take dessert into the drawing room. Or more wine. It would be
improper for her to do so without us asking.” Melanie leaned closer
to him and whispered: “She’s not my nanny.”

Dr. Fritzl stood up with his glass,
and Melanie did the same. As he walked toward her she noticed Beau
beside his feet. Obviously the dog must have been there throughout
dinner. She wanted to scold him but it would spoil the moment.
Melanie led the doctor and her dog to the drawing room and put a
Glenn Miller record on the phonograph. She turned around to find
Dr. Fritzl right behind her.

“
May I have this dance?” he
asked.

“
Certainly.”

He drew her close. “Would your father
object to this?”

“
I’ve danced with boys in
this room for years.”

“
I’m not a boy, Miss
Rains,” he whispered. “Perhaps you
do
need a chaperone.”

She noticed Beau hovering
around his feet. She pulled back and glanced at the doctor’s lips,
and then to his eyes behind the thick glasses. “
Bringing up Baby
,” she whispered.
“That’s who you remind me of—the actor in that movie. He played a
doctor—a paleontologist. But I can’t remember his name.”

“
I never pay attention to
the movies,” he said, kissing her softly.

As the kiss grew she closed her eyes
and imagined her water fountain in Gage Park. “You make me feel
like Aphrodite,” she said when the kiss broke. “With water
streaming over my hair, down my back…all the way to my feet.” He
kissed her again, and she felt those same waters pouring over her
heart, removing any trace of any kisses that had been planted there
before.

With Beau under one arm and a picnic
basket handle on the other, Melanie strolled across the Menninger
campus. The clock tower was beautiful with sunshine flooding down
over it. If her father had made it home at all last night, it had
been long after Melanie went to bed, and both he and Dr. Fritzl had
left before she awoke. In her mother’s absence, Melanie had decided
to take a warm lunch to her father at work. It was a Friday
tradition that dated back to before Melanie was born. As they got
closer to the tower Beau squirmed in her arms. He wiggled free and
ran toward a group of people on the east end of the tower base.
Melanie approached the group and discovered Beau at the feet of a
man wearing a tattered straw hat. Overjoyed, she ran to him.
“Reginald,” she cried when she was just a few feet behind him. He
turned around.

The picnic basket slid
along her arm. “Who…?” she muttered. He didn’t say a word, but
looked at her for a moment. She pulled off his straw hat, and he
closed his eyes. “Dr. Fritzl? How…? Are you…?” She glanced down to
Beau, brushing against his dusty boots. “There was a dog in the
movie,” she finally said. “In
Bringing up
Baby
, there was a dog.” She looked deep
into the eyes of Reginald or Dr. Fritzl or whoever this man really
was. “I can’t remember. Was the dog named ‘Baby’?”

The man shook his head. “Baby was the
leopard.”