“I think it will be a good day, Dr. Hart.”
Marion smiled. “I think you’re right. Can you give me another word to describe how you’re feeling?”
That took a moment while Alice searched her memory. “Optimistic.”
“Oh, Alice. I love that word.”
Marion’s head was deep in her notes as she walked down the wide corridor then turned a corner, colliding into a solid chest. She jumped back, mortified.
“Dr. McKenny. I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Nothing to apologize for, Dr. Hart,” he said, laughter in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind at all if you made a conscious effort to bump into me more often.”
Her face burned.
“Actually, this is great timing,” he said, leaning against the wall and looking like a model in a magazine. “I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me one of these nights.”
This was not the first time Paul McKenny had asked her out. Marion knew she should be flattered. He was young and smart and terribly attractive. Nurses fluttered around him like little white moths, but Marion couldn’t get interested, no matter how she tried. She had graduated one year after Paul had, and she’d been aware of him the whole time. How could she not, the way he watched her? He’d even joined her at a small café one day, making himself comfortable and talking all about his life for a half hour. All she’d wanted was coffee and a quiet place to read. She had smiled and nodded in all the right places, but she kept wishing he’d move to another table. Everyone said Paul was exciting, always doing new things outside of hospital hours, like travelling, and whatever else. Marion thought he was as boring as dry toast.
“That’s not a good idea, Paul. You know. Mixing business with—”
“With pleasure?” he finished when she faltered. “Come on, Marion. Those are old-fashioned rules. Times, they are a-changing, didn’t you hear?”
“Bob Dylan,” Alice volunteered, wandering past them down the hall.
“There’s a great Italian restaurant nearby. Giorgio’s,” he said. “Do you know it? Best carbonara in the city. After, we’ll go to Yorkville and have some fun. Give me a good reason why we shouldn’t. Come on. You like me. Everyone likes me.”
Marion had run out of excuses. In the past, she’d claimed she was feelingsick or had a headache, whatever she could think of to put him off, but he kept on coming. Maybe he would tire of the chase if she went out this once.
“When?” she asked reluctantly.
“No time like the present. Thursday night work for you? Or do you feel a headache coming on?”
Of course he’d known she’d made those excuses up. He was a psychiatrist, for heaven’s sake. “No, Paul. I feel fine. Tomorrow sounds… fun.”
“Don’t strain yourself, Marion.” He chuckled. “Who knows? You might even enjoy yourself, if you allow it. I’ll take you to dinner, then we’ll hit the Riverboat. If you can still stand the sight of me by then, that is,” he said, flashing a perfect smile. He looked like he couldn’t imagine that ever happening.
“Fine,” she said, continuing to the old building. “You may pick me up at six thirty.”
Marion didn’t like to date. Or at least she hadn’t liked the few she’d been on. Trying to fake interest in someone else’s conversation was exhausting. She did that for a living all day long. If tomorrow went as she expected it would, Paul would talk about himself all night.
“I can do this. It’s just dinner,” she muttered to herself as she pulled open the door to Ward 6B.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Hart.”
“Hello, Burt. What day is it today?”
“Wednesday,” he announced gleefully. “Wednesday afternoon, because we had lunch.”
“Well done, Burt.”
“Are you going to see Big John?”
“Yes, I am.”
“He’s having a sad day, I think.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Thank you for letting me know in advance.”
