The aforementionedhecleared his throat into the phone. “Wren? Are you there?”
My actual name shook me out of the spiral I’d collapsed into, my brain in a free fall of memories.
To be honest, this entire freaking day had been in the toilet since the moment it began.
Maybe I should’ve listened and let my patient fix me up for the holidays.
Five hours earlier
“Cherry red! They’re sexy. Vroom, vroom. Right, Doc?”
My patient waggled her fingers in the air, the light catching the wedding band on her finger.
“When my darling, David, was alive, he’d say the tips of my fingers looked just like maraschino cherries and he wanted to take a bite of each one. He’d make a big show of nibbling on my fingertips before bringing his lips to mine. He was such a Casanova, my David…but I was the only woman for him…the only one…”
“Good morning, Mrs. Anthony. How are you feeling today?” Much to the tornado of a woman’s dismay, I interrupted the manicure and love chatter and tried to bring the conversation back to earth.
For me, time was of importance.
With a touch of grace, the woman ran her fingers through her silver hair and playfully winked. “I’m right as rain, Doc. Look, my granddaughter painted my nails,” she said, wiggling her fingers at me for a second time.
“Red, very nice. You must have been happy to see your granddaughter.”
“Oh! Did I tell you she is about to graduate from Boston University? She’s the youngest of the gang. Twenty-year span between all my grand kiddos. A true blessing.”
I nodded. She’d told me at least ten times, but who was I to take away her pride?
“When you have five kids, that’s what you get…a whole brood when they have their own babies.”
I’d heard it all. As usual, I plastered a smile on my face, trying to replicate what the warm feeling must look like.
As an only child from an unhappy couple, it was a foreign language to me.
“She’ll be here for both Christmas and New Year’s, and guess what? So, will my grandson. The oldest, he’s forty-one and has an MBA from Harvard. Big Boston people, like you know,” she added at the end.
I did know this. The Anthony family had a long history in Boston’s North End, owning a number of restaurants and a bread bakery.
“That’s very nice. I’m trying to make sure you don’t miss Christmas. Time to get you home to your family.”
Although I didn’t have to be here, I waited for Marybeth, the physical rehab nurse, to complete her notes in the electronic medical record.
Often people asked why I was so dedicated or accused me of being a control freak; neither derailed me from waiting for Marybeth to free up the computer for me. As I looked at the information from overnight and this morning, I made a few calculations in my head, half listening to Marybeth and my patient still discussing her deceased husband.
“David used to have one of his employees dress up as Santa when the kids were little…and then later, he’d joke with me…he’d put on the Santa hat and say, come sit on my lap…”
I reminded myself I was here out of my own free will, and it was impolite to roll my eyes when with a patient.
“What about you, Dr. Bianchi? What are you doing for Christmas?”
“What?” I asked, looking up.
“Christmas? What are your plans?” My patient stared at me.
I blinked, pretending there was something stuck in my eye when it was really my pride twitching… “Oh, don’t you worry about me. Your hip seems to be healing nicely and rehab is going well. We should have you out of here by the end of the week.”
“Really?” A bright smile lit up the sweet older lady’s face, and I couldn’t help but wish my life had turned out as full of love as Mrs. Anthony’s.
“Absolutely, and then you’ll follow up with me, in the office. Six weeks or right after New Year’s for you!”
