Off on the Wrong Foot

Fred moaned again and his little smile disappeared. Then he glanced again at Myrtle with a grimace on his face. Suddenly she wasn’t sure that Flora was the only source of his discomfort.

“My stomach hurts,” he said.

Just then, as if on cue, a nurse bustled into the room, glanced at Flora guardedly, then seeing Myrtle, smiled. She approached Myrtle, who yielded her spot at Fred’s side.

“How are you, Mr. Luckinbill?” the nurse asked pleasantly.

“Humph!” exclaimed Flora. “How dya think he is?” she demanded.

The nurse looked up at Flora. “It’s so nice that you have so much time to stand over Mr. Luckinbill like this... for so much of the day... as you have,” she said, just a little sarcastically.

Flora glared and looked as if she had something else to say, but the nurse had quickly turned her attention back to Fred, who looked at her, then at his mother, then at the nurse again with pleading eyes. “My stomach hurts,” he complained again. “And my ears hurt too,” he whimpered, glancing at Flora, who looked as if she was still puffing herself up to belt out more insights.

“Yes, apparently your mother is convinced you have a hearing problem, Mr. Luckinbill,” the nurse sympathized, chuckling softly. As Flora turned a deeper shade of red and sputtered a bit, the nurse smiled disarmingly and deftly inserted a needle into Fred’s IV. Myrtle held the line steady as she did so and the nurse gave her an approving nod. “You’ll feel better in a short while,” she assured Fred. “I expect you’ll get some more rest, if your visitors let you,” she added, looking directly at Flora.

The whole exchange had been an “aha” moment for Myrtle who realized Flora plainly didn’t know any better than to get on the wrong side of the nurses. Why, even if you didn’t like them or were unimpressed with them, you never tick off the nurses, thought Myrtle. She would have thought everyone knew that. She moved closer to Fred again as the nurse bustled away. She met Flora’s glare with a little smirk, then turned her attention to Fred, who was whimpering still.

“There, there, Fred,” she comforted him. “You’ve been through a lot. You should rest,” she said softly.

“Is my mother gone?” he asked quietly, but in a loud enough whimper for Flora to hear.

“Humph!” declared Flora. “Well that’s the thanks I get for standing over you in your time of need!” With that, she turned so quickly she almost lost her balance. Steadying herself on a chair, she recovered at the last moment, then trudged out of the room, glaring back only once.

“Ohhh,” said Fred, vaguely aware that he may have said something wrong.

But Myrtle only stroked his cheek. “There, there, Fred... you rest now,” she said.

Indeed, it didn’t take Fred long to drift off. Myrtle kissed him on the forehead, put the side back up on the bed, and tiptoed out of the room. She glanced around the hallway for any sign of Flora, in case she was lurking for some reason. But seeing no sign of her, Myrtle decided to grab some early supper in the hospital cafeteria, then check on Fred again before going home.

Having discovered that the hospital cafeteria served good food, Myrtle shouldn’t have been all that surprised to see Flora there, sitting at a large table, alone, with a tray full of food. Myrtle found it difficult to ignore her. She thought she should probably go sit with her and try to make peace, but she was really tired and just didn’t want to deal with the woman. She had also hoped to make a short evening of her visiting with Fred because she was so tired, but she couldn’t help wondering if Flora was just fuelling up for an evening of standing over her son again.

Sighing deeply, Mrytle got in line with a tray and picked out some supper. After paying, she made a point of ‘not noticing’ Flora and chose a small table at the other end of the cafeteria. Again she was wondering how exactly she got into all this. She began to ponder what she’d be doing right now if she hadn’t literally bumped into Fred on that fateful rainy day. She'd probably be freshly arrived home from work and contemplating getting a homemade supper ready, she thought wistfully, picturing a fresh, crackling fire in her wood stove and the gentle evening twilight of her wee cottage.

She sighed again as she lifted a fork full of chicken pot pie to her mouth, then toyed with her potatoes and peas, accidentally knocking a couple of peas onto the table. She glanced around quickly, then shooshed them under the edge of her plate. Must be tired, she thought, though part of her was wondering if she was having a sympathetic moment of sloppiness for Fred.

After supper, she returned to Fred’s room. She didn’t know where Flora was. She’d felt as if she was being watched the whole time she ate and didn’t want to make eye contact with the large woman, so she just deposited her tray where it was supposed to go and left the cafeteria. But because she didn’t look back, she had no way of knowing if Flora was really still in there. Moreover, she’d rather stupidly, she now thought, chosen to sit with her back to the door so she couldn’t see if Flora had left or not. So now she was treading the hospital corridors carefully, peeping around corners before turning them, just in case Flora was out there somewhere. She crept into Fred’s room quietly, hoping that Flora wasn’t already in there. She wasn’t. So Myrtle grabbed a chair and sat down next to Fred as he dozed.

Myrtle very nearly dozed off herself as she sat there. She wasn’t at all sure how long she should stay. She wanted to go home and relax a little before bed, but she didn’t want Fred to wake up in pain and alone. She wondered vaguely if he’d had any nourishment. Then she figured the hospital must know what they were doing in that regard. So she patted Fred’s hand and sighed. She knew tomorrow would be another busy day, so once again she passed the time mentally going over her planned itinerary, thankful that visiting hours would soon be over anyway.