Chapter 1
She’s Mine
“She’s mine,” I declared, the second we laid eyes on her.
The day that changed my life started like any other. It was a Sunday in early September 1975. David picked me up at home, and we tore through the streets on “Golda,” his battered little scooter, heading for New-Hope Medical Center. We were near the end of our internship in internal medicine. The guard, clearly a veteran Labor Party man, seemed to have a soft spot for Golda and always let us park inside the hospital yard.When the elevator doors opened, David made a show of rushing ahead to open the ward door for me, feigning deference to my age. Sometimes I wonder – what if I’d let him go first? Would he have been the one to declare, “She’s mine?”
We walked down the corridor together. I saw her from a distance, sitting at the desk next to Shira, the ward secretary. I froze momentarily, then slowed my pace and murmured to David, “She’s mine.”
“Who?” He slowed too.
“The one sitting next to Shira.”We headed toward the doctors’ room.
“There is something about her… Okay, she’s yours! I’m staying out of it,” he said.
“Who wants to draw blood?” Shira’s voice rang out just as we dropped our bags on the residents’ table.
“Let me have some coffee first and recover from the exhausting journey.”
“But she’s in a hurry!”
“Who?”
“Lily.”
“Who’s Lily?”
“The prettiest patient in the ward.”
“Which room’s she in?”
“She’s sitting right next to me.”It took me a second to realize the woman I’d just staked my claim on was actually a patient.
“When was she admitted?” I pressed.
“And why isn’t she wearing hospital pajamas?”
“She was discharged about a month ago. She’s here for follow-up tests. So – who’s taking her blood?” Shira’s patience was wearing thin.
“Him!” I pointed at David.He looked surprised. We never dumped jobs on each other, and here I was, giving him an assignment before we’d even had coffee.
“Me? You’re the one who called dibs.”
“My hands will shake if I go near her. Worse, if I have to touch her,” I whispered.
“Okay, I’m on it,” he told Shira, then called over his shoulder,
“Save me some coffee.”Shira watched him go, then turned back to me.
“What’s with this ‘she’s mine’ business? Since when do you guys divvy up women like spoils?”
“Long story – it started in the Yom Kippur War. Not for now. Unless you want me to tell you who you belong to?” I grinned.
“Rude!” She headed for the door.We both knew she had a thing for him.
“Wait, don’t go,” I stopped her.
“What?”I shut the door and leaned against it. I didn’t want anyone to overhear.
