Island Heat

"Who me? Afraid of falling in love?" Lauren Cam- bridge stopped her pacing long enough to stare at her friend, Rene Browning, and add guardedly, "What's that supposed to mean?" Rene smiled faintly, settled back into the cordovan comfort of her executive chair and steepled her fingers against her chin. Lauren resumed pacing. She knew that look. It was the secret weapon that Rene reserved for patients who were avoiding self-examination. Lauren tried remind- ing herself that she wasnotone of Rene's patients, but it did little to calm her disquiet. In any other setting, she could have ignored the fact that her old college buddy was now a prominent Seattle psychiatrist. But not here. This was Rene's office, her arena, her sanctum sanctorum. Diplomas and certificates lined the walls, an obligatory aquarium sat on the credenza behind her, and pale midmorning sunlight glinted off a desk sign that read Rene Browning, M.D. Never one to be intimidated, Lauren stopped in her tracks and countered Rene with a look of her own. "Well?" she asked, hands on hips, arching one eyebrow in undeniable question. Rene grinned. "I don't know how to put it any plainer, Cookie. You are what we in the shrink business call a love phobic. you're scared silly of a meaningful relationship--and always have been, I suspect ." Lauren wondered briefly why her friend had waited all these years to drop this little bombshell on her, but she didn't take the time to ask. She was too busy de- fending herself against the accusation. "How can you say that, Rene? I've had meaningful relationships ." Lauren began counting them off on her fingers. "There was Conrad in high school, Bruce in college. And just last year, Nigel, that redheaded Londoner." She smiled triumphantly. "I almost married him ." "Nigel was more concerned withhislooks than yours," Rene reminded her, none too subtly. "I wasn't fortunate enough to know Conrad, but Bruce wasn't the last of the red-hot lovers, either, as I remember." She sat forward in her chair, bedside manner forgotten. "Lauren, no matter what you may have told yourself, you weren't emotionally involved with any of those men. You were just going through the motions. They weresafe.""And what's wrong with a safe man?" "Nothing, as long as you're in love with him ." Rene had her there. Lauren glanced at the aquarium. She felt like a hooked goldfish, and instinct told her it was useless to fight. "Uncle," she murmured. "Okay," Rene said softly, "now we're getting some- where." She stood up from her desk and went to stand by the window, gazing out for a moment, then turning back to Lauren, her expression expectant. They both knew it was Lauren's move. Lauren sighed, sinking into the nearest chair. "What am I doingwrong, Rene? I'm reasonably attractive, aren't I?" She consulted the aquarium again, seeking her own reflection this time, and was reassured by what she saw--a chic, sensible woman with chestnut hair and blue-gray eyes. "I'm a successful financial analyst. I like men. I work with them, play tennis with them at the club and even date them semiregularly. But what comes of it?" She threw up her hands in despair."Nothing.I'm thirty-three years old, and I've never been in love. Can you believe it? No fireworks, no light- ning bolts, nothing!" Glancing down, as though the answer were hidden somewhere in her solar plexus, she murmured, "Do you think it could be glandular?" Rene shook her head with exaggerated slowness and tapped her forehead. "It's all in my head?" Lauren questioned. "I'm crazy?" "Not as in certifiable," Rene assured her, "but you've got an interesting quirk or two." She sat on the narrow windowsill and folded her arms. "You know I'm a firm believer in self-discovery, Lauren. We each have all the answers already--in here and in here," she said, indi- cating her head and then her heart.Forster, Suzanne is the author of 'Island Heat ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373198702 and ISBN 0373198701.