expert psychologist and superb baker
We have an appointment,
Norman, Sanders and I
and the tenor of the conversation
is greatly self-congratulatory.
Norman & I are particularly smug
having previously been washed, starched &
pressed and then gone forth unasked to proselytize
& Sanders is happy that those who had problems
have solved them so easily. I’m wrapped in a
down comforter & giggling like a groupie.
Martin says, “And you, Sanders, how’s it going with you?”
And I swear to God Sanders comes apart on the spot.
Norman books & I’m following & tripping on my blanket.
But in the waiting room on every table instead of magazines about
sports, parenting and prevention, are plates of bread and pastry.
There are countless platters of challah, thickly sliced, and poppy
seed cakes with lemon and sugar glaze. The challah is warm and I
help myself while wandering onto the porch where a table holds
angel food cake and huge sliced strawberries. I can’t stop eating.
Martin comes into the room to say,
“He’s going to be fine.”
“How do you do it?” I say.
“It’s easy. It only takes ten minutes because everything is set up in
the kitchen. Come out and have some strudel. It’s full of apples
and berries and cinnamon. I’ll show you how to make the icing—
it’s nothing like that metallic tasting store-bought stuff. And all
this food is good for you. You can eat as much as you like.”