time, Commander Henderson can probably get his leave extended."
"I haven't kept up too well with all of these new psychological theories, madame," Dr. Fairbairn said, addressing Ellita thusly because he had already forgotten her name and could see that she was pregnant. "But Hoke has what they now call 'burnout.' I've known Hoke since he was a little boy. He's always been an over-achiever, in my opinion, and these types frequently have attitude problems when they mature. Hoke's heart is fine, however, and he's as strong as a mule. So when someone like Hoke turns away from everyday life, as he's apparently decided to do, it's nature's way of telling him to slow down before something physically debilitating does happen to him. And the buzzword, according to pop psychology, is 'burnout.' I read an interesting article about it last year in -Psychology Today-."
"Then this could be partly my fault," Ellita said. "I'm his partner, and I started my maternity leave two weeks ago, so I'm not around to help him on the job anymore."
"You're a police officer?" Dr. Fairbairn raised gray eyebrows. "You don't look like a police officer."
"That's because I'm eight months pregnant. A pregnant woman, even in uniform, doesn't look like a police officer."
"Are you going to stay here with him?"
"No, I've got to get back to Miami. I share a house with Hoke and his two daughters, and I have to look after them. But I won't drive back right away if I'm needed here and can help Hoke in any way."
"Will my son need a nurse?" Frank asked. "Or should I send him to the hospital?"
"No hospital, Mr. Moseley," Ellita said, shaking her head. "If this is just a temporary condition, like Dr. Fairbairn says, it wouldn't look good on Hoke's record to have a hospital stay. Rather than do that, I'll take Hoke back to Miami with me and look after him myself."
"He doesn't need a nurse," Dr. Fairbairn said, "or hospitalization either. Just let him rest tonight, Frank, and I'll come by tomorrow and take another look at him." The doctor consulted his watch. "It's too late to go back to my office now, so I could do with a drink."
"What'll you have?" Frank asked. "Bourbon? Gin?"
"I could use a martini, but no vermouth, please. And before I leave, Frank, I'd better give you a prostate massage. You haven't been into the office for more than two months."
Frank flushed slightly and glanced sideways at Ellita. "Helen gives them to me now, Roy. That's why I haven't been in."
"In that case, I'll just settle for the martini."
"Would you like something, Miss Sanchez?"
Ellita shook her head. "Not till after the baby. I'll just go in for a second and say good-bye to Hoke. Then I'd better head back to Miami."
"Why not stay for dinner first? Helen'll be back from her Book Review Club soon, and Inocencia's cooking a roast."
"Thanks, but I'll have to fix something for the girls. And they'll want to know that their father's all right. What book are they reviewing?"
"I don't know the title, but it's something by Jackie Collins. She's Joan's sister, you know. Jackie's the writer, and Joan's the actress. We saw Joan in The Stud on cable the other night, and Helen said their new book reviewer is so good at explaining the good parts she no longer has to read the books."
"I'll just look in on Hoke."
Hoke was lying on his back on the king-sized bed, still wearing his stained boxer shorts, but he wasn't under the covers. The room was cool, and there was a whispering hiss from the central air conditioning duct above the door. The sliding glass doors to the back yard were closed, but the draperies were pulled back partially, giving Hoke a view, if he wanted to raise his head and look at it, of the swimming pool, the gently sloping back lawn, a short concrete dock, and Frank's Boston Whaler tied to the pilings. Across the narrow blue-green waterway there were mangroves, and high above the mangroves
"I haven't kept up too well with all of these new psychological theories, madame," Dr. Fairbairn said, addressing Ellita thusly because he had already forgotten her name and could see that she was pregnant. "But Hoke has what they now call 'burnout.' I've known Hoke since he was a little boy. He's always been an over-achiever, in my opinion, and these types frequently have attitude problems when they mature. Hoke's heart is fine, however, and he's as strong as a mule. So when someone like Hoke turns away from everyday life, as he's apparently decided to do, it's nature's way of telling him to slow down before something physically debilitating does happen to him. And the buzzword, according to pop psychology, is 'burnout.' I read an interesting article about it last year in -Psychology Today-."
"Then this could be partly my fault," Ellita said. "I'm his partner, and I started my maternity leave two weeks ago, so I'm not around to help him on the job anymore."
"You're a police officer?" Dr. Fairbairn raised gray eyebrows. "You don't look like a police officer."
"That's because I'm eight months pregnant. A pregnant woman, even in uniform, doesn't look like a police officer."
"Are you going to stay here with him?"
"No, I've got to get back to Miami. I share a house with Hoke and his two daughters, and I have to look after them. But I won't drive back right away if I'm needed here and can help Hoke in any way."
"Will my son need a nurse?" Frank asked. "Or should I send him to the hospital?"
"No hospital, Mr. Moseley," Ellita said, shaking her head. "If this is just a temporary condition, like Dr. Fairbairn says, it wouldn't look good on Hoke's record to have a hospital stay. Rather than do that, I'll take Hoke back to Miami with me and look after him myself."
"He doesn't need a nurse," Dr. Fairbairn said, "or hospitalization either. Just let him rest tonight, Frank, and I'll come by tomorrow and take another look at him." The doctor consulted his watch. "It's too late to go back to my office now, so I could do with a drink."
"What'll you have?" Frank asked. "Bourbon? Gin?"
"I could use a martini, but no vermouth, please. And before I leave, Frank, I'd better give you a prostate massage. You haven't been into the office for more than two months."
Frank flushed slightly and glanced sideways at Ellita. "Helen gives them to me now, Roy. That's why I haven't been in."
"In that case, I'll just settle for the martini."
"Would you like something, Miss Sanchez?"
Ellita shook her head. "Not till after the baby. I'll just go in for a second and say good-bye to Hoke. Then I'd better head back to Miami."
"Why not stay for dinner first? Helen'll be back from her Book Review Club soon, and Inocencia's cooking a roast."
"Thanks, but I'll have to fix something for the girls. And they'll want to know that their father's all right. What book are they reviewing?"
"I don't know the title, but it's something by Jackie Collins. She's Joan's sister, you know. Jackie's the writer, and Joan's the actress. We saw Joan in The Stud on cable the other night, and Helen said their new book reviewer is so good at explaining the good parts she no longer has to read the books."
"I'll just look in on Hoke."
Hoke was lying on his back on the king-sized bed, still wearing his stained boxer shorts, but he wasn't under the covers. The room was cool, and there was a whispering hiss from the central air conditioning duct above the door. The sliding glass doors to the back yard were closed, but the draperies were pulled back partially, giving Hoke a view, if he wanted to raise his head and look at it, of the swimming pool, the gently sloping back lawn, a short concrete dock, and Frank's Boston Whaler tied to the pilings. Across the narrow blue-green waterway there were mangroves, and high above the mangroves
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