Page 11 of Across the Universe

Jo and Bill Booker are pushed from her mind entirely.

CHAPTER3

Bill

"And now here we are,"Dr. Sheinbaum says, standing up from her desk and walking over to a plant on a shelf, which she inspects closely. "Needs water," she says absently, her back to Bill. "Just like a marriage."

Bill closes his eyes.Here we go, he thinks, preparing himself for some intrusive line of questioning or a lecture.

"Tell me about the day you met Josephine," Dr. Sheinbaum says, returning to her chair, which she sits in with an almost listless air. "Did you like one another right away?"

Today, Dr. Sheinbaum is wearing a floor-length dress in navy blue, and around her neck is a choker of thick, amber-colored beads. Her hair is swept into a neat bun, and she's wearing her tortoiseshell-framed glasses.

"Jo was working behind the front counter at my dentist's office, and I thought she was the picture of loveliness," Bill says, resting on one elbow against the chair's armrest. "She was wearing a pink dress with her hair pulled back off her face—the way yours is now." He points at the bun at Dr. Sheinbaum's neck.

"How did you show her you were interested in her?"

Bill laughs, remembering. "I came out of the exam room and my mouth was still numb from a filling I'd gotten, so when I asked her out, my lips didn't move right." He relaxes as the image of this memory floods his mind's eye. "But she understood me anyway. We both laughed, and she said yes, that she'd like to go out with me sometime. And then we did."

"Right," Dr. Sheinbaum says, and Bill can tell that she hasn't quite gotten what she wants from him yet. "But did she like you right away? Have you ever asked her?"

He shrugs. "She says she liked me, too. One time she told a story to her sister about how she'd offered to work late that day because she saw me on the schedule for the afternoon. Apparently she'd thought I was handsome the first time I came in." Bill nearly blushes as the words cross his lips; calling himself 'handsome' doesn't come naturally to Bill.

Dr. Sheinbaum leans back in her chair and crosses her legs at the knee. "So fast-forward to now, and you have three children and are living halfway across the country from her family. Do you ever think this life might overwhelm her? That she struggles to adjust to all these changes?" Dr. Sheinbaum spreads her hands wide, elbows on the armrests of her own chair. "Do you think that maybe she occasionally grapples with the idea that her own dreams are going unfulfilled?"

Bill is incredulous. So much so that he nearly stands up and walks out of the office, gets into his car, and drives away. Dr. Sheinbaum has got to be kidding. He scoots to the edge of his seat like he might stand, but then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring right at the psychiatrist. Like,rightat her—into her eyes, into her soul. She has to understand where he's coming from.

"Dr. Sheinbaum," Bill says carefully. “Jo is a wife and a mother, and I give her a wonderful life. I’m an astronaut. Out of the millions of people in this country, there are only a handful of us in the running to go to the moon.”

Dr. Sheinbaum’s eyes look slightly magnified behind her glasses and she blinks at Bill, but says nothing.

“Do you understand how rare it is to be in this position?” Bill puts the fingertips of both hands against his chest as he leans forward imploringly. “There’s a ton of pressure that comes with being in a job where there are so few of you. Everyone is watching, wondering if you can actually do it, waiting to see if you’ll choke. And there are many people whowantyou to choke. Can you even imagine what that feels like?”

It’s Dr. Sheinbaum’s turn to lean forward in her chair and to meet Bill’s gaze head-on. “Lieutenant Colonel Booker,” she says with force, putting an emphasis on her words. “I’m a woman in a man’s field. Do you know how few there are ofmeright now? Licensed female psychiatrists?” She sits back and folds her arms across her chest. “We aren’t exactly a dime a dozen, so, yes, I understand what that feels like—even the part where you know people are waiting to see if you’ll choke.”

In response, Bill sits back in his chair. He considers this before responding. It’s different—his situation and Dr. Sheinbaum’s—but maybe she does have some understanding of how he feels and the uniqueness of being an outlier. Bill changes tack.

“So, as a woman who has done something extraordinary?— “

Dr. Sheinbaum holds up a hand modestly. “Not extraordinary. It was just out of the norm for a woman to go into psychiatry and attend medical school a decade ago.”

“Fine, for you to be doing something out of the norm,” Bill agrees. “But as a woman in this position, do you really think that what you do compares to what a woman like Jo does?”

Dr. Sheinbaum’s face takes on a look that is both quizzical and displeased. “Do you think it doesn’t compare?”

“Well, no. Frankly, it doesn’t. You went through grueling years of medical school and you must encounter some sort of pushback from the men in your field, correct?”

“Sure.” Dr. Sheinbaum folds her hands together and sets them on her lap.

“But Jo, and so many other women like her, marry young, become mothers, and I guess you might call it an unpaid profession, but they enter into the work of womanhood, essentially. And they’re generally cared for by a man who goes out into the world to provide for the family.”

Dr. Sheinbaum tilts her head to one side, keeping her eyes on Bill. “But how do you know that’s what she wanted to do? When you were a little boy, did you only dream of growing up and becoming a father?”

Bill laughs in disbelief. “No. Of course not. I wanted to be a fireman and a cowboy and a doctor, just like every other young boy.”

The smile on Dr. Sheinbaum’s face is one of amusement. “And you don’t think that Jo ever dreamed of those things—or of their equivalents? You think, from childhood, all she ever wanted to do was grow up and wipe baby bottoms, or fold your laundry?”

Bill’s smile fades; when Dr. Sheinbaum boils it down like that, it makes it sound like he’s keeping Jo in a cage and forcing her to do labor. He’s not—he’s definitely not.

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