Page 29 of Across the Universe

Dr. Sheinbaum takes a deep breath. "I feel defensiveness from you on this topic. Am I wrong about that?"

"Can you elaborate?" Bill asks, trying to buy time.

"Well, defensive in the sense that I've hit a nerve. I'll be direct: is there anything at all going on between you and Jeanie?"

“Of course not,” Bill says too quickly. “She’s a respected colleague.”

“I see.”

Dr. Sheinbaum leaves a silence between them that Bill is determined not to fill, but after nearly a minute of silence, he can’t take it anymore.

“Look, have we had discussions on our own? Yes. Is there anything about the woman that I find attractive?” Bill pretends to consider this for the first time. “Sure. Yeah. Jeanie is a lovely young woman with a brilliant mind and a great personality.” Dr. Sheinbaum’s eyebrows hitch up a millimeter with each flattering word that comes out of Bill’s mouth, but that doesn’t stop him. “In another universe, if neither of us were married, we might be attracted to one another. But I’m a married man, Dr. Sheinbaum. And Jeanie is a coworker.”

Pressing her lips together as she writes on her notepad, Dr. Sheinbaum nods just slightly. “Of course, Bill.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

Dr. Sheinbaum sets her pencil on the notepad and focuses all her attention on Bill. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t believe you?”

Bill feels maddened by the circular way that she goes about things, and his heart thumps angrily. “You think I’m lying,” he says flatly. “I’m here to talk about why I lost my temper on New Year’s Eve, and you want to talk about me having—what, a crush?—on a coworker. I feel like there’s a better way for us to use our time together, don’t you?” Bill folds his arms across his chest.

“No, I don’t.” Dr. Sheinbaum doesn’t sound sarcastic at all; if anything, she sounds sincere. “I think that talking about you, your relationships, and the way you interact with the world around you are precisely what we’re here to do, Bill. And because you’re here at the behest of your employer, talking about work-related things is highly relevant.”

She’s not wrong, though Bill is reluctant to admit it. Instead, he unfolds his arms and lets his breathing regulate along with his slowing heart rate before going on. “Okay,” he finally says. “Then ask me what you need to ask me, and I’ll try to answer as honestly as I can.”

“Fine.” Dr. Sheinbaum slides on her reading glasses, consults the notepad in her lap, and asks again: “Is there anything at all going on between you and Jeanie Florence?”

Rather than holding his firm stance that there is nothing between him and Jeanie, Bill exhales loudly, weighing the consequences of the truth. He knows logically that anything he shares with Dr. Sheinbaum will be held in doctor-patient confidentiality, but she can—and most likely will—report back to NASA with her overall impression of him. So will her taking away the impression that he’s a lying, cheating lech be the kind of thing that she can share with Arvin North and the rest of the suits? He isn’t sure, but he is and has been committed to talking to her and to making progress, so this seems like a bad time to be evasive.

“I kissed Jeanie Florence,” Bill says before he can think better of it. “I kissed her in the stairwell at NASA on the night of the Gemini fire.”

To her credit, Dr. Sheinbaum does not react. She does not blink, and her face does not change. “Okay,” she says, waiting.

“We get along,” he says, as if this is a thorough explanation for the kiss. And, in a sense, it is. “Our interests align, and when we talk, I feel like we’ve known each other for a long time. She’s young, yes, but Jeanie is smart, Dr. Sheinbaum. She’s so smart. And interesting. My god, it’s almost impossible to even imagine a conversation with most women that can veer from physics to biographies to music and back again.”

At this, Dr. Sheinbaum reacts. “Are you saying that most of the women you know are dull? Dim-witted?”

“No,” Bill says, though somewhat unconvincingly. “But their interests are more along the lines of recipes, romance novels, raising kids… I don’t know. The conversation just doesn’t spark.”

“Okay.” Dr. Sheinbaum rearranges herself in her chair and uncrosses her legs as she leans forward a bit, putting an elbow on her knee while she watches Bill. “You’re saying that, because Jeanie isn’t married with children, because she has a college degree, and has the same career goals as you, that she’s more interesting than other women. To me, that sounds like you’re describing a man.”

“Come again?” Bill rears back. “Are you calling me a… are you saying that—that… I likemen?”

Dr. Sheinbaum nearly smirks, but quickly wipes it off her face. “No. Not at all. But what I’m saying is that perhaps you find a woman who is unencumbered by the responsibilities of running a house and raising children to be more intriguing. And that the people who are most likely to fit those characteristics—being free of child-rearing duties, having time to read and engage in a college education—are generally men.”

Bill blinks. He’s still not sure what she’s saying. “Right,” he finally allows. “Jeanie is different from other women.”

Dr. Sheinbaum holds her pose, elbow on knee, chin resting on her hand as she gazes at him. “I feel like what you’re telling me is that you respect men’s pursuits more than women’s. Am I wrong?”

Bill considers this. “No. Not really. Okay, don’t get me wrong,” he clarifies, “raising kids is important. Jo is a great mother and our kids are as amazing as they are largely because of her. I can admit that. But am I interested in coupons and whether a vacuum salesman has come through town lately to offer the newest model? Heck no.”

“But how do you know that those are truly the interests of the women in your life, and not simply necessary things that they have to consider? Follow me here, Bill,” she says, sitting back in her chair and re-crossing her legs. “Pick a woman in your life aside from Jo?—“

“Okay, I’ll pick her best friend, Frankie. She’s the wife of one of my coworkers.”

“Fine. And Frankie—she has children?”

“No, not yet.”

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