“Singles. Won two National Championships back in the day too.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, really?”
Her smile grows. “1977 and ’81.”
“That’s amazing. I’ll have to look it up. Think there are any videos of it somewhere?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“I was never any good at tennis, but I was on my school’s cheerleading team for four years.”
That’s not something I usually admit to strangers, since it was one hundred pounds and many moons ago, but hey. Ruth isn’t the judging type.
Ruth stops, turns to look at me with her wide eyes, then raises her other arm in the air as if holding a pompom. “Gimme an M! Gimme an I. Gimme an—”
I burst out laughing.
“L-E-S! What’s that spell?”
“Miles!” We say together.
She winces as she lowers her arm, quickly holding her abdomen.
“More pain?”
She nods.
“Dull or sharp?”
“Dull.”
I frown. “I’ll talk to the doctor again, see what we can do for you. It’s good to know you still have some spunk in you, though. Maybe you should’ve been on the cheer team too.”
That earns a soft smile.
I adore this woman. She’s only been here a couple of days, but she’s quickly become my favorite patient. Her quick wit and ease of conversation pulls me right in.
Our former love for sports continues, distracting us through the awkward moment. I mean, come on—helping old ladies usethe toilet isnotwhy I went to nursing school. But it is part of the job, and I refuse to pass things off just because I don’t like doing them. Unlikesomeof the staff here, anyway.
Finally, several long minutes later, Ruth shuffles back to the bed. Her grip is a little weaker and her gait more unsteady as she leans into me. That small journey took a lot out of her.
I fluff her pillows while she pulls at the blankets. When she’s finally comfortable, I smile and hand her the word search book she’d set on the table.
“I’ll get that water and check into some food for you, okay?”
Ruth blinks. “Thank you, dear.”
“Alright. Be back soon.”
When I exit the room, Ana grins at me from where she is refilling a mobile supply cart. “How are yousogood with the patients? It’s unfair.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her.” She nods toward the door. “You literally treat her like a queen.”
I shrug. “I’m only treating Ruth how I’d want to be treated if I were in her position.”It is our job, after all.
“I know, but you’re just like… a natural at it.” Ana shoves more alcohol wipes into the middle drawer, then makes a funny face. “Were you the oldest child?”
