Famous by Blake Crouch Read Free Book Online

in and sits down in a
chair before the couple. GERALD is visibly upset.
     
    GERALD
    Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,
Dr. Lovejoy.
     
    DR. LOVEJOY
    Yes, well, my time is extremely limited, so
why don’t you tell me the problem.
     
    CINDY
    (sarcastically)
    I’m the problem.
     
    DR. LOVEJOY
    I’ll decide that.
     
    GERALD
    No, she’s right, Doctor. She most certainly
is the problem. She’s an enormous problem.
     
    DR. LOVEJOY
    (to Gerald)
    So. You initiated this session. What would
you like for me to say?
     
    GERALD
    What do you mean?
     
    DR. LOVEJOY
    What did you come here to hear? Everyone who
comes into this office has something in mind they want to hear.
Some behavior they want rationalized. Permission to cheat on their
wife. Write off their parents. What is it that you want?
     
    GERALD
    I want you to help us to—
     
    DR. LOVEJOY
    (standing and shouting)
    Just stop! Let us dispense with you trying to
make me think you really care about having this relationship
healed. Let’s go right to the end of where all of this is going.
What do you want? Permission to leave her? Go ahead. Leave. You
want to change her. Knock yourself out. I don’t care. Just tell me
what you want to hear, and I’ll say it convincingly and
sympathetically, and give you my bill and you can go ahead and do
what you were already going to do, with my four hundred and
twenty-five dollar-an-hour blessing. So, Gerald. What. Do. You.
Want. To. Hear.
     
    GERALD
    (tearing up)
    Last week, Cindy microwaved my dog, Poopsie,
for forty-five seconds. It didn’t kill her, but she walks
diagonally now. I want to microwave Cindy’s Persian cat.
     
    DR. LOVEJOY
    (sits back down and leans forward, looking
intently at CINDY and GERALD)
    Ready?
     
    BLACKOUT
     
     

Chapter 6
     
    returns to Edenwald * in Central Park * oops
* rehearsal * tries to act * fails * has an epiphany
     
    After the night I’ve had, it’s a bit of a
letdown returning to the Worst Hotel in the World. It’s nearly
11:00 a.m., and the sun already showering through the blinds. I can
tell it’s going to be another blistering day. Laughter reaches me
through the cracked window, and I stand peering through the blinds
for a moment, watching the boys throwing dice down on the baking
concrete steps of their apartment building. I wonder if they do
this all summer long.
    It feels terrible to be here, like a great,
fat lie, so I change into a pair of khaki slacks and a white oxford
shirt and get the hell out of this rank hotel.
    Since I still have several hours before I
have to be at Hamilton Studio, I catch a cab to W. 110 St., the
northern boundary of Central Park, and follow a path until the
smell of trees is stronger than the smell of traffic.
    I wander off the path and find a place in the
shade of a big oak. The grass is soft and warm. Through the
foliage, I see pieces of blue, spring sky, and I smile at that joy
swells up in me again.
    I take the script out of my satchel and read
through my lines once more. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a
little scared. Matt’s expecting an Oscar winner to pull off this
scene in his play. Jansen’s a terrific actor. Sure, he does his
share of suspense flicks that don’t call for the nuances of
brilliant acting. But he’s also put out five or six Oscar-caliber
performances, and it’s these against which I’ll be judged.
    I’ve got my lines down cold, so I’m not
worried about forgetting them. My memory is photogenic. What I’m
worried about is me reading onstage with the other actors, and Matt
and everyone in the theatre knowing instantly that I’ve never acted
professionally in my life. I have the physical resemblance to
Jansen to pull this off, and I can do his voice. But what concerns
me is not knowing if I have the hardwiring to play this part. Sure
I’ve said Jansen’s famous lines to myself in the mirror while
shaving, and I thought I was pretty good. But honestly, what do I know?
     
    I eat lunch at a Greek deli