Glad Sunday is Over!

Myrtle sort of stared at Fred, who was still blushing furiously.

“Don’t blame me, Myrtle,” he said finally, after his lunch had been left on his roll-away table and the lunch lady had left. “Bill always leaves his ring with me when he goes on a trip. At least, ever since he got married... “ finished Fred a little lamely, and rather pointlessly.

“Why would he do that?” asked Myrtle, though she knew the answer perfectly well.

Fred looked sheepishly at her, then motioned toward her tray. “Let’s have lunch, Myrtle,” he sort of whined. “You know, I’m not like Bill. For one thing, I would never be going to a scuba diving course. For another, I would never cheat on my woman.” Fred finished with a determined flourish that made Myrtle smile.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t encourage Bill though,” she suggested softly as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“You’re right, Myrtle. I never liked doing it. It’s just hard to get through to Bill that he shouldn’t be like that. He is who he is.” Fred’s face took on that helpless beagle look as he lifted a large ravioli to his mouth.

Myrtle looked at Fred’s lunch, then at her sandwich, thinking she may have been misguided in her choice. They’d had ravioli in the cafeteria too. She’d just thought it might be a bit messy. Then Fred sort of missed his mouth and dropped a piece, staining his hospital gown. As Myrtle helped him get it off his chest, she once again felt satisfied with her sandwich. It wasn’t exactly a gourmet delight, but at least it was easy to eat.

Myrtle couldn’t stay annoyed about what had just happened, but she made a mental note about this brother Bill and determined to let Fred know in little ways that this would not stand if he wanted to keep her around. So the two enjoyed the rest of their lunch, then Myrtle found a new gown for Fred and went for a little walk to the gift shop while he changed. She returned a while later with a Get Well balloon for him, and found him sitting on the edge of the bed.

Fred smiled when he saw her, and the balloon. “Is that for me?”

Myrtle stopped, smiled and turned her head to one side. “No Fred. It’s for the old man down the hall,” she said, giggling just a little. “Of course it’s for you!” With that, she tied the balloon to the foot of his bed.

“Thank you Myrtle,” he said, smiling. “The nurses are going to make me walk in a little while anyway, so as long as I was out of bed....”

Myrtle understood. “You want me to walk with you, Fred?” she asked. Fred nodded as she moved to his side and took an arm.

And so most of the next hour was passed in the hallway, shuffling slowly back and forth, until Fred was too tired for any more walking. Myrtle was tired too. At that pace, walking seemed more of a chore than a marathon would have been. She helped Fred back into bed and sat reading a magazine while he snoozed. This was boring too, but Myrtle focussed on finding some interesting recipes in the magazine she thought Fred might like.

A little later, after the nurses had bustled in to check on Fred and he was wide awake again, the two talked for a little while. But Myrtle’s mind was starting to drift to having to go back to work the next day. She had been planning to have supper with Fred too, but she really didn’t want to. She didn’t mind the cafeteria food, but she wanted to go home and spend some time in her own kitchen and living room and enjoy food of her own making.

After putting it off for a little while, Myrtle finally stood up, bent over Fred and kissed him on the forehead. He looked at her with a quizzical expression.

“I have to go, Fred,” she said in an apologetic tone. “I have some things to do, some little things to wash out....” she offered. Fred had that puppy dog look. “Have to also pick up a few things,” she continued, sort of wondering how many quick excuses she could come up with to obtain her release. “And I’d like some of my own home cooking for supper,” she finished honestly.

Fred smiled and nodded. “Don’t blame you,” he said. “I’d like some too.”

“Soon, Fred,” Myrtle assured him. “By the look of things, you won’t be in here long. And there’s all kinds of my home cooking in your freezer, just needing to be warmed up,” she pointed out, smiling.

Fred grinned. “Ok, Myrtle. I understand. Thanks for staying with me for so much of the day. I’ll be ok.... I’ll just read a bit and probably nap some more,” he comforted.

“I expect so,” smiled Myrtle, kissing him on the forehead again. “You rest, Honey, and I’ll see you tomorrow evening, ok?”

“Ok Myrtle,” he said, waving as she backed away toward the door.

Once in the hallway, Myrtle hurried to the car, suddenly wondering if she’d paid for enough time in the parking lot. But the car was there. She did indeed pick up a few things on the way home, and once there, she collapsed onto her couch for a little while, feeling quite exhausted. Then she put the few groceries away and considered what to have for supper. It might be her own cooking, she thought, but it sure wasn’t going to be anything grand. Sitting around all day was more energy-sucking than working hard, she realized. She would explore what was in her fridge needing to be used up and get a little creative, but it didn’t want to be complex.

After a satisfying toasted western with home-fried potatoes loaded with veggies, Myrtle made herself some tea, put a load of her frilly knickers into the washer, started a cozy fire in the wood stove and turned on her little TV. There wasn’t much on, on a Sunday evening, but some sort of comedy show would be just fine before going to bed, she thought. Wondering vaguely if she should look into a TV for Fred in his hospital room, she snuggled into her couch, tea at her side.

***