“What are some of the questions on the form?” asked a female student who always came to class with her head and body covered.
“Don’t be afraid to ask the patient their ethnic origin, the primary language spoken at home or if they require an interpreter. Religious beliefs, restrictions and practices are important for understanding and perception of mental-health therapy.”
“I am Muslim, so how does dying differ from someone who is African-American and Christian?”
Ivan moved over and sat on the edge of the desk. He never liked the traditional classroom seating, so he had his students rearrange their chairs in a U formation.
“Muslims believe death is God’s will,” Ivan replied. “They always turn a patient’s bed to face the East, or Mecca, and read from the Koran. There are no cremations or autopsies. The only exception would be for forensics and organ donations.
“African-Americans are reluctant to donate their organs, and family members will usually make the decision when it comes to the deceased. Their response to death is varied, so you may get a lot of different ones. Funerals and burials may take as long as five days to a week after death. It is very important to ascertain the patient’s religious affiliation during the interview process and know the importance of religion or church in his or her life.”
Ivan made certain not to make eye contact with his Muslim student. He’d learned that some females avoided eye contact with males and strangers. He wasn’t a stranger, but he was male. “Islam instructs you to pray five times each day, fast during Ramadan and take a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once during your lifetime.”
He gave the students an overview of the ethno-cultural differences before giving each a handout of the assessment tool. This was Ivan’s first year teaching a humanistic view of a course that covered selected psychological literature on non-white Americans, and most of the data was derived from his published doctoral dissertation.
A lively discussion ensued until Ivan glanced at his watch, noting he’d gone ten minutes beyond the time for dismissal. “For those of you who have another class, you’d better hustle or you’re going to be late. Have a good weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.”
He gathered the extra handouts, slipping them into a leather case, then checked his cell phone. Someone had sent him a voice-mail message. Punching in his PIN, he listened to the soft, feminine voice coming through the earpiece.
It was Nayo, and this was the first time he detected an inflection in her speech pattern that was different from those living in New York City. Pressing a button, he replayed her message: Ivan, this is Nayo. Please call me when you get this message. She left the numbers for her cell, home and work.
Ivan wrote down the numbers, then dialed the one for her cell. “This is Ivan,” he said after hearing her soft greeting.
“Oh, Ivan, I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel Friday. I just remembered that a friend is hosting a pre-Halloween party and I promised her I would attend.”
“What costume are you wearing?”
“Costumes are optional. Is it possible for us to meet tonight?”
“I can’t give you an answer until I check with my office. Hang up and I’ll call you back.”
Ivan had purposely kept busy so he wouldn’t have to think about Nayo Goddard, but just hearing her voice again conjured up the image of her doll-like, wide-eyed gaze. He didn’t know why, but he remembered every curve of her petite body as if she were standing in front of him. He dialed his office, counting off the rings until his secretary answered the call. It rang six times, followed by a distinctive click that indicated the call had been transferred to the reception desk.
“Counseling Center, Demetria speaking. How may I direct your call?”
“Demetria, this is Ivan. Can you check my calendar and tell me who’s scheduled to come in this afternoon?”
He, Duncan and Kyle had set up a synchronized computer program where the building’s reception desk knew all their schedules at a glance. His offices took up the top floor in the renovated brownstone, Kyle’s law practice the second floor and Duncan’s tax-and-financial services the first floor. The street-level space was converted to include a kitchen, dining room, games room and gym for the building’s employees. He shared equally in the salaries for the receptionists and cleaning staff.
“You had Ahmed Daniels for five, but he called to say he had to meet with his probation officer.”
“Did he reschedule?”
“No, Dr. Campbell.”
“Leave a message for Chantal to call Ahmed and reschedule ASAP.”
“Chantal didn’t come in today. She called to say she had a fight with her baby’s daddy last night, and he wouldn’t take care of Kassim, so she had to try to find another babysitter.”
Chantal came with excellent office skills, but it was her personal life that was in disarray. Her on-again, off-again relationship with her son’s father was beginning to affect her job performance. Her punctuality and attendance had received a less than favorable rating on her last evaluation.
“Don’t schedule anyone else for today, and if there is an emergency, refer them either to Dr. Kelly or the hospital. What does Thursday look like?”
“You have a full calendar. Your first appointment is at ten and your last is scheduled for eight.”
Originally Ivan had set aside Tuesday for his late night, but then switched to Thursdays because patients tended not to keep their Friday appointments, which prompted him to work late and take Fridays off.
“If Chantal calls, please tell her that I must talk to her before I go into session tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, Dr. Campbell.”
Ivan hung up, then called Nayo back. “I’m free for tonight.”
“What time do you want to get together?”
“I’m still at the college. It should take me about half an hour to get home.”
“Why don’t I plan to see you in, say, an hour and a half?”
“That works fine,” he agreed.
“Ivan?”
“Yes, Nayo.”
“You don’t have to cook.”
He affected a Cheshire-cat grin. “What if I order in?”
“That’ll work. I’ll see you ninety minutes.”
Ivan pressed a button, ending the call. He would get to see Nayo sooner than planned, but there was still the problem with his secretary he had to resolve. Chantal’s salary was comparable to someone working for a major downtown corporation, because she was the sole support for herself and her son. The young woman complained that her son’s father was unemployed, so he wasn’t able to contribute to the child’s support. The man supposedly made up for his lack of funds by babysitting the child when his mother was at work. Now that that arrangement had soured, Ivan knew it was time for Chantal to see about enrolling two-year-old Kassim in day care. Either she followed through with his recommendation, or he would be forced to terminate her employment.
Unlike Duncan and Kyle, he ran a bare-bones practice. An intern enrolled in the psychology program at City University New York’s Graduate Center came in twice a week to do intakes and assessments. Chantal was responsible for scheduling, inputting case notes and following up with patients mandated by schools and the court-and-criminal-justice system.
Kyle and his law partner, Jordan Wainwright, had expanded their thriving practice, adding a law clerk to a staff that included an office manager and full- and part-time paralegals.
Duncan Gilmore, his part-time accounting student and full-time