Fred Goes Home

Although it really wasn’t part of her job description, Myrtle spent much of the rest of Thursday calling around for a substitute instructor to oversee Mr. Pelham’s courses. It wasn’t an easy task. Myrtle suspected it was the Dean’s way of punishing her for whatever role she played in all the fuss. The Dean didn’t like interruptions in his routine and he could be very autocratic that way. So Myrtle accepted the task graciously and kept at it. Most certified instructors were either unavailable due to other commitments or were off on some sort of sabbatical. So she changed her approach and found two graduates of the program who’d taken and passed the courses in question. Both were “between jobs” at the moment. One was a little frank about why, but Myrtle suggested he keep it quiet in the interview that he’d accidentally burned down a set while working on a film. She told him to just not bring even a lighter with him to the interview.

Neither of these former students had training to teach, but one, or even both of them could be hired as teaching assistants to get around that. Myrtle arranged for them to come in and speak with Dick Friday morning. Then she notified the Dean’s assistant of this, in case the Dean wanted to meet with them as well.

Having done her best, Myrtle felt a lot better about asking Dick if it would be all right for her to leave early on Friday. Assured that things were looking up, Dick agreed. Myrtle could only hope that at least one of the replacements would fill the bill and nothing would go wrong, requiring Dick to change his mind. She wondered sort of vaguely how many flammable papers were on Dick’s desk, but then gave her head a shake. By the time she left work, she was in a fairly cheerful mood and looking forward to springing Fred from the hospital the next day and looking after him on the weekend.

For his part, Fred was still more or less recovering from Mr. Grieves’ unexpected visit. For some reason, it made Fred feel worrisome about his job. He just had a nagging feeling there were things going on at work he didn’t know about. He tried to put it out of his mind though, because there really wasn’t any point in dwelling on it he kept telling himself. There wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment. By the time Myrtle showed up, he was very relieved to see her.

They enjoyed their supper together as had become habit, and they chatted about things unimportant, though it would have been clear to any outsider that both were just a little preoccupied and inattentive of the other, since there was a lot of repetition going on. But neither of them seemed to notice, so they babbled their way through the evening until visiting hours were over.

Myrtle slept only fitfully that night, dreaming on and off about strange creatures showing up to interview for the teaching job. One had the body of a mule and the head of Mr. Pelham. Myrtle woke up laughing from that one, the symbolism being all too obvious.

Fred’s own sleep was punctuated by rubber-soled feet running in the hallway and dreams about Mr. Grieves’ huge face leaning over him, tsking away at how sad it all was. Fred did not wake up laughing from that one.

Friday saw them both groggy but a tad excited too. Both the young men who showed up to interview as Pelham stand-ins seemed very bright and confident, though the one Myrtle silently dubbed the “firebug” seemed a little nervous too. Myrtle had already suggested to Dick that if he couldn’t make up his mind, he consider splitting the classes between the two. “It might,” she reasoned, “give them both an opportunity to see if they like to teach, and give you a back-up if one backs out.”

Dick had nodded in somewhat wide-eyed agreement, then went to his office to wait. Myrtle saw the Dean totter by her office just before the due time for the first interviewee. He didn’t stop in to say good morning to Myrtle, which surprised her, leaving her feeling both a little alarmed and a little relieved at the same time. A couple of hours later, Dick came by Myrtle’s office smiling. He and the Dean had decided to hire both young men as temporary teaching assistants. The Dean’s assistant would draw up the employment agreements and the first of the young men would cover Monday’s classes with a copy of the course plan in hand, and any of his own notes from the class he could find. Myrtle breathed a sigh of relief. It would seem that, for now at least, the Pelham affair was over. And Myrtle was off the hook. At least, she hoped so, as she replayed in her mind a sideways glance from the Dean as he passed her office again.

As all this was going on, Fred was out of his hospital bed, struggling to put on his clothes. His stomach still hurt, so bending over to put on his shoes was impossible. Fortunately a nurse showed up to hurry him along and helped him on with his socks and shoes both. Then he got a wheelchair ride to the patient lounge where he sat watching a talk show on TV, feeling just a little as if he’d been kicked out of his home. One of the nurses showed up with a tray for him at lunch time, as arranged. After that, a nurse brought him his instructions for caring for his incision, and his medication to take home. Then he just waited. When Myrtle showed up, he was very happy to see her and very ready to leave the hospital and go home to his new digs.

The logistics of parking the car and helping Fred into his apartment were a little challenging, but once inside with Fred safely on the couch, both started giggling as if they’d gotten away with something. Fred was too excited to nap, so Myrtle showed him where everything was so he could manage when she wasn’t there. Then they chatted until suppertime, when Myrtle made them a homemade meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Fred thought it was the best thing he’d ever eaten, but he got sleepy shortly after, so Myrtle tucked him into bed and went home early. It really had been a tiring day. She’d considered staying over on the couch just in case Fred needed her, but he knew where everything was, was getting around pretty well, and Myrtle wanted to sleep in her own bed. So she promised to be back early the next day to make breakfast, then she headed for home.

Fred was only too happy to be left alone in his own apartment, with his own, new bed, where he could snore his heart out without bothering anyone. Tired, he snuggled in for the night.

Bye Bye Mr. Pelham

Fred took quite the start on Thursday morning. He was lying in bed after breakfast, resting his eyes, when a large shadow fell across him. He didn’t open his eyes right away, assuming it was a nurse come to take him for a walk. Suddenly the deep voice of his boss boomed above him.

“How are you doing, Fred?” asked the large man.

Fred jumped visibly. “Erch!” he said, grabbing his stomach as a sharp pain paralysed him for a moment. He stared wide-eyed at Mr. Grieves’ smiling face.

“Oh. Sorry young man, did I startle you?”

“Ye..ye..yes,” stammered Fred.

Mr. Grieves only chuckled in response. “How are they treating you?” he asked, once Fred had gotten comfortable again.

“Fine, Mr. Grieves. They’re really very good here,” he said, not quite sure why he felt he needed to give the hospital some sort of recommendation.

“Good, good,” nodded Mr. Grieves. “Do you know when you’re being discharged?” he asked congenially, at the same time glancing around as if assessing Fred’s private room and what it was costing the company.

All the details of the previous evening flooded through Fred’s head, but he mentally edited it before opening his mouth. “Yes, yes, sir. I’m being released tomorrow. My... um... friend is going to pick me up and take me home to my new apartment.”

“And your convalescence can begin,” said Mr. Grieves, sort of finishing Fred’s last sentence.

“Yes,” nodded Fred. “I’ll probably be off a couple of weeks,” he sort of whimpered, smiling sheepishly.

Mr. Grieves’ booming laughter filled the room. “Oh my boy, you’ll likely be off longer than that, but don’t you worry about a thing. You just get well. I just popped in to see if there was anything you need.”

Fred somehow found Mr. Grieves words disquieting. But the large man just smiled and smiled some more at Fred, who felt the need to respond, “um... well, no, I guess I’m all looked after, Mr. Grieves.”

“Well that’s good then!” boomed the man, making Fred jump slightly again, and shrink back just a little as his boss grabbed his shoulder rather gruffly and gave him a little shake. “You take care of yourself then, young man. And if there’s anything you need... anything at all, don’t you hesitate to call Helen and let her know. All right?”

Fred smiled gratefully. “Ok, Mr. Grieves, thank you!”

Grieves only chuckled loudly again, then with a cheerful wave, he turned toward the door.

Fred wasn’t sure what to think. It was awfully nice of Mr. Grieves to drop in and check on him like that. Yet something about the whole thing felt just a little uncomfortable. Just as Fred snuggled back into his pillow, a nurse came striding through the door.

“My, but that man was certainly loud, wasn’t he? Is he related to your mother?” she asked.

Fred laughed until he was shaking with mirth and holding his stomach in pain. “No, no...” he whimpered at last. “He’s my boss,” he explained. And then, “but you know, there are some loud people in my life,” he nodded, as if suddenly wondering why he’d been laughing.

It was the nurse’s turn to laugh, or at least chuckle as she got Fred up and helped him on with the extra robe for his walk.

Between the walk and all the strange merriment, Fred was quite exhausted when he got back into the bed. He thought of grabbing a nap, but could hear the lunch cart down the hallway and decided to eat first.

Myrtle, meanwhile, was having an interesting day as well, punctuated as it was by Mr. Pelham’s students coming in to ask her why there was no instructor for his classes. By the time Dick had caught on there was something afoot and strode into her office, there was a little gathering of students by her desk. He glanced a little nervously at them, then sort of sashayed closer to Myrtle, around her desk.

“Did he not call or anything?” he asked Myrtle.

She shook her head. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing. Maybe you should check with the Dean.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the Dean walked through her door too. Myrtle looked at the strange group in front of her and resisted the temptation to say, “I suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here this morning.” She held in a chuckle, but was sure her eyes would betray her amusement, so she looked down at her work folder quickly.

“So what’s all the fuss?” the Dean asked her. “I’ve got students in my office too.”

Myrtle cleared her throat and forced herself to look serious. “Apparently Mr. Pelham hasn’t shown up for his classes today ~ at least, not so far,” she said.

“He didn’t call?”

“No sir,” she said, shaking her head. “At least, he didn’t call my office.”

“Is that not procedure?” asked the Dean, a little haughtily.

“Usually,” answered Myrtle, “although it’s perfectly acceptable for him to call your office as well.”

“Humph,” said the Dean. Then, “would you please call him at home, Myrtle?”

Myrtle gazed at him. “Ok,” she said hesitantly, wondering why he didn’t get his assistant to do it. This, she thought, would have been the more suitable choice under the circumstances. But she dutiful picked up the phone under the Dean’s watchful gaze, the students not budging from their little grouping nearby. Myrtle flipped through her file and found Pelham’s number, then dialed. It rang several times, then a very agitated voice answered, rather loudly.

“Mr. Pelham?” enquired Myrtle softly. Suddenly Myrtle yanked the phone away from her ear and held it up. Everyone in the room could hear Pelham screaming abuse at Myrtle. The students began to giggle, Dick turned red, for what reason Myrtle couldn’t fathom, and the Dean’s nostrils flared, the look on his face all the haughtier, if that was possible.

He took the phone from Myrtle. “MR. PELHAM!” he bellowed into the mouthpiece. “Mr. Pelham, this is the Dean! I assure you I will not keep you! You will be notified of the date of your dismissal hearing by my office before the end of classes tomorrow!” With that, the Dean handed the phone back to Myrtle, turned and strode from her office. As quickly as he was walking away, Myrtle was certain he still must have heard the spontaneous cheer that burst forth from the gaggle of students in her office.

Another Ride on the Midway of Life

The rest of the week was a bit of a roller coaster ride for both Fred and Myrtle. The atmosphere at the college was still very tense as the Dean seemed to be taking his time with any sort of action or decision. Hostility toward Mr. Pelham was at an all new high as students apparently conspired to stare stonily at him during his lectures. It was, of course, his undoing. He tried hard to ignore them and just get through his lectures, but by Wednesday afternoon he simply couldn’t take either the sulky lethargy displayed by some, or the open hostility of others. He slammed a pointer down onto the desk in one classroom and began yelling at his students again, threatening to not even bother showing up to teach them anything if they were going to be so horribly unreceptive. His voice gaining in volume and pitch as he spewed his threats and insults, the students began to glance at one another and smirk. This was the last straw. Red faced and quite plainly furious, Pelham gathered up his notes and books with shaking hands and strode from the classroom. He didn’t turn up for his Thursday classes at all.

Myrtle, meanwhile, was working away at a steady flow of pedagogical-related demands, both usual and unusual, trying all the while to keep her mind off all the fuss, even though the feeling of being watched never really went away. If it wasn’t a student glancing sidelong at her as they passed in a hallway, or Professor Dilby come to stare at her, it was the Dean, who seemed to just pop up where least expected, like the lunch room, the equipment room, outside the ladies washroom, or just in the foyer. Myrtle smiled and nodded at them all, feeling a little as if she must surely develop a sore neck by the end of each day from the strain. She also assumed that the Dean must be gathering quite the dossier on her rather mundane daily activities. But she said nothing. Myrtle was enough of a pragmatist to know that news would come a-knocking just as soon as it was ready for her ~ especially if it was bad.

And Fred? He was getting anxious to get out of the hospital, even though he was still feeling weak, and even though he still spent much of his time sleeping off the pain-killers. He was getting fewer pain-killers each day, but he was sleepy-headed anyway. In fact, on Tuesday Myrtle had to wake him, because he was lying on his back, snoring loudly when she arrived. He was certain some of his sleepiness was due to boredom. Oh, he obediently took his walks, a little farther and a little longer each day. But when those were done, there were only so many magazine articles he could read to keep busy. By the time Myrtle showed up at the end of Wednesday, he was quite desperate for company and a little affection.

For her part, Myrtle was tired and a little stressed out, but glad of the change of pace. She was sure that if she’d just gone home after work each day, she’d likely spend the whole evening preoccupied by what was happening at work, and wind up even more stressed out. Fred was a happy diversion ~ a little bit fun, a little bit pathetic, a little bit goofy ~ he usually kept her from thinking about work at all. Although the hospital food was beginning to pale for her, despite its being good, she was enjoying having supper each evening with Fred.

They were both surprised when Fred’s doctor came in on Wednesday evening to inform Fred that they needed the bed and he was to be discharged the next morning. In fact, Myrtle panicked a little. She stood up and stared wide-eyed at the doctor.

“Something?” he said, noticing her surprise.

“Um... I... I.. work all day. I can’t get off tomorrow to take him home.”

“Is there anyone else...?” the doctor began, but both Fred and Myrtle were shaking their heads vehemently, as if both were picturing Flora clomping into the room to take Fred home.

“Can’t you keep him a bit longer?” asked Myrtle, a little desperately. Fred whimpered and she turned. “I’m sorry, Fred, but I just can’t get off work on that short notice, especially with what’s going on,” she said, immediately regretting those last few words.

Fred nodded sadly, then glanced at her. “What’s happening Myrtle?”

She just shook her head. “I’ll tell you about it later,” she said, waving a hand at him. Then she turned back to the doctor. “I can sneak out early on Friday if you can keep him till after lunch. Then I’ll come get him,” she promised.

The doctor looked at Fred’s chart again, then promised to be right back. Myrtle glanced at Fred again as the doctor disappeared through the doorway. “I’m sorry, Fred.” she said again. “Things are a little hairy at work right now, and I just can’t....”

“It’s ok, Myrtle,” he assured her. “But what’s been going on?” Myrtle moved closer to Fred and took his hand. She was casting around in her mind trying to figure out exactly what to tell him when the doctor came back into the room. They both looked up.

“Ok. I’ve checked with the nurses and they say we can swing it. Fred will be ready to discharge after lunch on Friday, but he won’t be in here. We normally discharge in the morning to get the room ready for the next patient. So Fred will be dressed on Friday morning and wheeled to the patient sitting room for his lunch. You can pick him up there, ok?”

“Oh, thank you doctor,” said Myrtle, as Fred smiled and nodded his agreement.

“No problem,” smiled the doctor. “So I’ll be back tomorrow then with your instructions, Fred.”

“Ok,” squeaked Fred. Then, clearing his throat, “that’ll be great.”

Once the doctor had left, Myrtle settled down beside Fred to tell him about what was going on at work. She glossed over it a bit, and down-played the whole thing, which only made her regret mentioning it all the more, since without the gory details it really wasn’t much at all. She changed the subject as soon as she reasonably could, and they passed the evening pleasantly until the announcement came that visiting hours were over. At home that evening, Myrtle wasted no time hitting the sheets. She just had a feeling the end of the week was going to be a busy time.

Stalkers Abound?

When Myrtle left work that day, the crowd had dispersed, but she noticed throughout the day, there always seemed to be a small gaggle of observers in the foyer outside her office. She realized she was more or less being watched. Part of her felt gratified that the students should be so concerned. Yet another part of her realized it really wasn’t about her so much as about getting Pelham. It also seemed just a little creepy to be watched like this ~ kind of as if she was being stalked, she thought.

When she left for the day, her mind was full of thoughts about her situation at work. She hoped this whole Pelham thing would soon be resolved. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d be all that disappointed if the Dean decided to suspend her for a week or so, although she’d have to grieve through her union if it was without pay. Still, some time off wouldn’t be a bad thing in her life right now, she thought, although she was sure Dick wouldn’t like it at all. In fact, she could picture him being quite agitated if such a thing were to happen. Myrtle smiled to herself at how ridiculous the whole thing really was. She looked up as she climbed into Fred's car to see the Dean watching her from across the parking lot. He glanced at his watch. Talk about being watched, thought Myrtle, feeling uncomfortable.

She settled behind the wheel and started the car. As she drove along, she put such matters out of her head and pondered briefly if she should eat out, or go to Fred’s room first, then excuse herself to get a supper at the hospital cafeteria. Myrtle decided for the latter and was again lost in thought as she parked Fred’s car right next to a full-sized red pickup with all kinds of accessories. She paid for a couple of hours parking and headed into the hospital.

On her way to Fred’s room, she heard a loud voice penetrating the otherwise quiet hallways and wondered sort of distractedly what poor person had such loud complaints. But as she turned through the doorway into Fred’s room, she immediately had her answer. Flora Luckinbill was standing at Fred’s bedside, and she turned to glare at Myrtle. Again, the vague feeling of being followed intruded on her mind. Myrtle gave her head a little shake and wondered what either she or Fred had done to deserve a Flora.

“Oh, it’s you!” exclaimed the large woman, as Myrtle rounded the end of Fred’s bed.

“Yes. Yes, it’s me,” Myrtle confirmed quietly as she accepted a hug from Fred and kissed him on the cheek. He seemed to cling to Myrtle a little awkwardly ~ and desperately.

“He’s been alone all day!” accused Flora.

“Has he?” said Myrtle wearily. “Well why has he then?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I mean, I’ve been at work all day. Was there no one else in the world to look in on him ~ all day?” she sort of demanded.

Flora blushed deeply as Fred shrank back into his pillow, looking a little as if he hoped it would swallow him.

“In fact, I’ve been at work since early this morning,” continued Myrtle, plainly in something of a combative mood. “I’ve only just gotten off. But I wonder why Fred had to be alone.... all day!”

Flora backed away a step and glowered at Myrtle, who apparently wasn’t done. “Why are you always so unpleasant?” she asked, glowering right back at Flora. “Why can’t you just be a civil human being? You act like you think I should quit my job or something to be here every minute. But just how long have you been here if it’s so important for someone to be lurking over Fred all the time?”

Flora’s mouth fell open. She was accustomed to intimidating others, certainly not to anyone speaking to her so plainly. Her confusion showed. If the truth were known, Flora wasn’t really all that concerned about Fred. He was her son and somewhere deep inside she harboured some small affection for him. It mattered to her what happened to him. But mostly she was concerned about Fred’s girl friend. It actually hadn’t occurred to Flora that there might be a genuine romance happening here. She assumed Myrtle was after something Fred had, but she wasn’t sure what that might be. Most people probably wouldn’t have come back after the last thorny visit, but Flora’s curiosity and her own avarice had the better of her. Flora was being quite obviously nosy and what with everything else that was happening in her life, Myrtle didn’t have a lot patience for it.

“Well, I never!” exclaimed Flora.

“Oh, I’ll bet you have too,” retorted Myrtle. Then she turned to Fred. “I was going to get some supper from the cafeteria and bring it back to eat with you,” she explained. “But I think I’ll just go eat. I’ll look in on you again before I leave,” she said, plainly put off by Flora’s presence. She didn’t mean to take it out on Fred, but she’d had enough for one day.

“But Myrtle....” he sort of whimpered. “Please... get something and bring it back. I’m sure my mother will be gone by then,” he offered uncertainly, with a nervous glance at Flora.

“Huuuumph,” declared Flora. “I can see I’m not wanted,” she announced. “I have a home-cooked dinner waiting to be warmed up at home. You two do just as you please,” she said haughtily, as if she thought they ought to feel bad for it.

Fred sighed deeply, but Myrtle only looked up at Flora through narrowed eyes, her expression stony. “Just please yourself,” she said coldly.

With eyes widened, Flora turned and marched away once again. Myrtle sat with Fred awhile in silence, but when she heard the dinner cart approaching from down the hallway, she headed for the cafeteria to get her supper too. She got back in good time this time to just take the lid off her ravioli and a salad as Fred uncovered his meal. It wasn’t exactly like eating out together, but they chatted as they ate and the evening passed pleasantly enough, as long as they avoided the touchy subject of Fred’s mother.

Myrtle hinted around about the excitement at work, but down-played the gnarlier details of the situation so as not to worry Fred. She made it sound as if the whole controversy was between Pelham and his students, and it was just the Dean caught in the middle. So rather than being worried, Fred was grateful for the entertaining story.

Myrtle was feeling better by the time she headed for home. The whole routine was getting a little wearing, but she really enjoyed spending time with Fred and felt things would only get better once he was out of the hospital and well on the mend. She also hoped Tuesday wouldn’t be quite so exciting, either at work, or at Fred’s bedside. She was up for a little ordinary routine. She just doubted somehow that she’d get it.

For his part, Fred was getting quite bored with routine and with being in the hospital. His stomach hurt, but he was getting used to how he had to move to minimize the pain. The nurses were nice enough, but he felt very much as if he was living his life at the whim of people dressed in scrubs. Sure, the disagreeable appearance of his mother punched a loud hole in his boredom, but he didn’t like Myrtle to have to deal with her. He was anxious to get into his new apartment behind a locked door. At least, he thought, he could keep his mother out.

Back to Work?

Monday morning saw Myrtle well-rested and looking forward to going back to work, if only for a change of pace. When she entered the department, there was a crowd milling about in the foyer. As she passed through the throng, Myrtle felt very much as if she was the subject of their interest. But she just smiled, nodded and kept going toward her office. As soon as she opened the door, she saw a man standing there. He turned toward her as she came in. Myrtle recognized Paul Visman, the Dean of Arts. He was evidently waiting for her. She vaguely wondered if she was late, but knew she wasn’t. A feeling of uncomfortable anticipation came over her.

“Good morning, Myrtle,” said the Dean.

"‘Morning Paul,” she responded guardedly as she put her purse into her desk drawer. Then she just waited. He must be standing there for a reason, she thought. So she just stood there too.

“I wonder if we should wait for Dick,” he pondered out loud, clearly feeling awkward.

“If you like,” ventured Myrtle.

At that moment, as if summoned by some unseen hand, Dick sort of blundered through the office door. He seemed very perplexed and somewhat out-of-sorts by the crowd outside the office. He closed the door and stood looking at Myrtle and Paul, quite plainly put out.

The Dean cleared his throat a little loudly. “Myrtle,” he began. “Max Pelham has filed a formal complaint that you were very rude to him, and I have to investigate it.”

Myrtle instantly understood ~ everything. She thought she recognized some faces in the foyer. These were students ready to crucify Pelham. Myrtle felt a certain comfort from this. She couldn’t help smiling, just a little.

The Dean cleared his throat again. “Were you rude to him, Myrtle.”

“I don’t think so,” she said quietly. “I was stern with him, Paul. After all, he came in here yelling about how stupid his students are.”

“He says you yelled at him,” said Paul.

Myrtle’s smile only deepened. “I don’t yell,” she said quite simply. She met his gaze and held it.

They stood that way for several seconds, then the Dean looked away, clearing his throat yet again. “I see,” he said. “And what do you call ‘stern’?” he asked.

“Mr. Pelham was asserting, rather loudly, that all his students are very stupid,” said Myrtle. “I pointed out to him, rather sternly, that these students went through an admissions process and were judged suitable for this program by their faculty interviewer. In many cases, this would have been either you, or Dick.” She paused and looked toward Dick for effect. Both men seemed to be slowly digesting her words. “I thought he ought not question your competence the way he seemed to be doing, and I said so.” Again Myrtle paused and waited.

“He’s a piece o’ work,” muttered Dick.

Myrtle smiled. “I also pointed out to him that his students were no more fond of him than he was of them,” she smiled. “I don’t think he liked that.”

“Mmmmph,” said the Dean. “But you didn’t raise your voice to him?” he pressed.

“Quite the contrary,” smiled Myrtle. “I find people are more likely to listen if you lower your voice.”

“He said you should have just booked him an appointment with Dick,” pushed the Dean.

“And I offered to,” replied Myrtle truthfully. “But he just walked away in a huff.”

The Dean nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Dick, who squared his shoulders rather determinedly, chin out. “There is no way Myrtle did anything wrong here,” said Dick. “Pelham is a jerk! I’ll defend Myrtle as fervently as I must,” he declared.

Myrtle was quite touched. This was a very brave stand for someone like Dick. She offered a particularly warm smile in return, but said nothing more.

“Hmmmmmph,” said the Dean again. “Well, I must take this all into consideration,” he added thoughtfully.

Dick’s hand was on the office door to open it for the Dean, who seemed a little hesitant to leave. The crowd outside the door had milled a little closer. There was a certain threatening air to the gathering. Perhaps it was the concerned and often angry looks on their faces.

“Be careful out there,” said Myrtle, smiling.

The Dean glanced at her, then back at the crowd. “What are they doing here?” he asked, clearly intimidated.

“I think they’re here to defend me,” said Myrtle, a little gleefully. “I mean, they’re Mr. Pelham’s students and they’ve put up with a lot of verbal abuse from him. They aren’t happy about it. Some of them came to me for comfort. They’ve probably heard about the complaints and they’re here to have a say,” she finished, nodding toward the crowd.

The Dean’s mouth had fallen open and the look on his face revealed that some sort of light was dawning. He was apparently only just catching on to the true nature of the situation, and it showed. He quite unconsciously backed up a couple of steps. Dick looked perplexed, as if he didn’t know if he should shut the door again or not. But the Dean suddenly squared his shoulders and strode toward the door, pausing only briefly at the doorjamb. Then he strode into the crowd, which parted just enough for him to squeeze through.

Both Myrtle and Dick watched until the he disappeared, the crowd closing behind him. Then one of the students stepped toward Myrtle. “Is everything ok?” she asked.

“So far,” answered Myrtle, smiling, then she sort of nodded at everyone in general. “He’s ‘investigating’ Mr. Pelham’s complaints,” she said.

“We know,” said the student, rather neatly confirming Myrtle’s thinking. “He better come to the right conclusion,” she said, with more than a hint of threat in her voice.

Myrtle was a bit taken aback, but only smiled gratefully. She wasn’t really into mobs, but as long as they weren’t after her, she was going to just go along. She nodded again and retreated into her office. “Work to do,” she sort of mumbled.

Dick just sort of retreated back into the office too. He didn’t seem to want to venture out the door just yet, and Myrtle was happy for him to stay for the moment. She sat down behind her desk and opened her work drawer. Dick stood beside her, nervously fumbling with his tie and sleeves. They glanced at one another.

“Nothing like a little excitement to start the week off right,” muttered Dick quietly.

Myrtle smiled and opened her work folder.

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.

***

A Quiet Sunday?

Sunday promised to be a more relaxed day. Myrtle knew there were still some things left to do at Fred’s apartment, but they weren’t urgent. Fred could move in anytime and be comfortable, with a couch to sit on, a bed to sleep in and food in the refrigerator and cupboard. His curtains were up and his dishes and cutlery were all there, clean and ready to use. There were towels laid out in the bathroom. There was even a soap sponge on the side of the tub that Myrtle had found at a little bath shop on her way to the grocery store. She figured she’d just visit Fred this day and rest up for work on Monday.

And Fred was feeling more chipper. They were still giving him mild pain-killers, but getting up had actually made him feel more energetic. Even though it made his stomach really hurt, he had to grudgingly admit the nurses knew what they were doing. He had eaten breakfast and was about to ring for the nurses when Myrtle showed up. So she helped him out of bed, helped him put on an extra gown, then walked slowly along the hall with him on his little walk, still pushing his IV stand ahead of him.

Myrtle thought the day might go beyond restful by slowly dragging into boring territory, but it turned out to be a bit of an eventful day. The nurses showed up after Fred’s morning walk to take his vital signs, and they decided he could be unhooked from his IV already. He was doing well, so they would give him his meds in pill form until his release later in the week. This startled Myrtle a little, because she wasn’t sure she wanted to take more time off work to pick Fred up. She was hoping they'd keep Fred till the next Saturday. But she kept quiet and decided to wait and see how things went.

Fred seemed a little surprised as well. “Don’t get rid of me too fast,” he smiled nervously at the nurse. “I’ll be home on my own, you know.” The nurse looked at Fred, then at Myrtle and then smiled and nodded. This was a little tidbit of information Fred hoped would be shared. He knew they’d want the bed, and he was looking forward to going home to his new apartment, but he didn’t want to be released so soon that he’d be a huge burden on Myrtle. She’d already done so much. And he certainly didn’t want to have to ask his mother for help. He actually felt quite content where he was for the moment.

Myrtle thought it would be nice if they could have lunch together, so when she heard the lunch carts far down the hall, she excused herself. “I’m going to go the cafeteria and grab something to eat, Fred,” she explained. “Then I’ll bring it back here and we can have lunch together,” she smiled.

“Ok,” said Fred, his eyes a little wide.

Myrtle thought he looked surprised, so she felt she needed to explain a little more. “Your lunch is on the way... I hear the cart,” she said, pointing to the hallway, as she slowly backed toward the door.

Light dawned on Fred’s face. “Ok,” he said again, only this time smiling and nodding. “Hurry back!”

Myrtle did hurry, though she wasn’t sure why. She had noticed that it often took the food carts a half hour to inch their way up a hospital hallway, room by room. But at least the cafeteria wasn’t crowded yet, so she grabbed a tray and looked over the available foods. She decided a salad and sandwich would be just right for the situation and made her choices, careful to grab a packet of dressing, some plastic cutlery and napkins as well, so she could sit with Fred and comfortably enjoy her lunch. An apple juice finished things off. She paid and hurried back to Fred’s room with her small tray in hand.

She was expecting Fred to have his lunch on his roll-away table by the time she got back, but the lunch cart hadn’t reached his room yet, and when she walked in, there was a buff young man standing there beside the bed, and a blushing Fred looking up at him. Myrtle set her tray on the end of Fred’s roll-away table, and nodded at the young man.

Fred blushed even deeper. “Um... Myrtle, this is my brother, Bill. Bill this is my girlfriend, Myrtle.” He cleared his throat and gave his head a shake, as if he wasn’t quite sure he was awake.

Bill grinned and nodded at Myrtle. “How ya doin’,” he said.

“Fine,” said Myrtle, tentatively. “Glad to meet you,” she said politely.

Bill nodded again, then turned back to Fred. “So yeah, sorry to turn up early. And glad you’re doin’ ok,” he said to Fred. He glanced a little nervously at Myrtle. “I took an early flight. Seems I upset a lady just a little while I was there. Was time to leave,” he finished with a nervous giggle and a smirk.

Myrtle turned to check where the food cart was. Bill’s visit was certainly ill-timed and she couldn’t help wondering how long he was planning to stay. Fred didn’t exactly seem excited to see him.

Bill glanced at Myrtle’s tray, then turned back to Fred. “So... um... do you have it?” he asked, scratching his head. “I mean... I’d like it before I go home....” he explained, his voice trailing off.

Fred blushed again. Then he motioned to Myrtle. “Would you get my shaving kit for me?” he asked.

Myrtle opened the side table drawer, pulled out Fred’s shaving kit and handed it to him. Fred opened it and fumbled around in it for a bit, then he pulled out a ring and handed it to Bill.

Bill glanced nervously at Myrtle, then slipped the ring onto his ring finger. Myrtle felt herself begin to blush too, as she slowly caught on to what was transpiring.

Bill cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he sort of squeaked. “I... ah... I appreciate it. Hope you’re doin’ real well. I’ll drop by again some other time.....” His voice trailed off again as he slowly backed away from Fred, gave Myrtle another nod, then retreated out the door.

Myrtle turned back to Fred with her eyes wide and her mouth agape, just as the lunch worker came through the door with Fred’s lunch.