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.

Things Are Looking Up

At least Fred was easy to distract, thought Myrtle, as she laid the packages of curtains side-by-side on the bed. They were wrapped in clear plastic, so the designs were quite visible. The problem was, it was quite impossible to imagine what they’d look like when they were unfolded and so much bigger over the windows. Myrtle didn’t want to choose herself, but she didn’t want to unfold them in the hospital either.

“I know it’s difficult to tell, Fred, but is there one that speaks to you more than the other?”

Fred obediently looked first at one, then the other, then back at the first one. He slumped back on his pillows. “Oh Myrtle, it really doesn’t matter, just as long as they aren’t too loud. You choose. I trust you completely,” he finished, flapping one hand toward the curtains.

Myrtle could see she was going to get nowhere, but at least she’d tried to involve him. It was like an investment for the future, if it ever occurred to Fred to complain about the curtains. She stacked the packages at the bottom of the bed.

“Poor Fred,” she comforted. “Operations are no fun,” she said, quite aware that this was merely obvious. It was difficult to think of things to say at a time like this and she was once again glad she had other things to do. She decided to stay a little while longer though, to encourage Fred to rest, though he had closed his eyes and didn’t really seem to need any. In fact, it wasn’t long after she sat down to keep Fred company, that she heard him snoring softly. She decided to slip away.

Myrtle stopped at a doughnut and sandwich shop and bought soup and a sandwich for her lunch. She took it back to Fred’s apartment and quite enjoyed it before hanging the curtains. It was a bit of a struggle, but she persevered and got the least patterned of the two hung up, after due consideration of both.

She repacked the others and put them by the door to go back. Then she made the bed and did a host of other little chores to make Fred’s new digs look and feel comfortable for him. She was torn ~ part of her wanted to hurry and get it done, another part of her wanted to take her time, so she wouldn’t feel obligated to spend so much time sitting in Fred’s hospital room. It was an awkward romance, to say the least, she thought. She’d be glad when Fred was on the mend and able to do things for himself again.

Meanwhile, Fred was awakened for lunch, and after he’d eaten the nurse bustled in and told him he’d have to go for another little walk, but this time, he was to ring if he was ready. At any rate, they’d be back. A red-faced Fred just nodded obediently as the nurse left the room smiling.

By the time Myrtle had done everything she was sure she must at Fred’s apartment and had arrived back at the hospital, Fred was just shuffling down the hall toward her, leaning on his IV stand as he walked. He looked up and saw Myrtle. “Oh Myrtle,” he said, a little pathetically, as he sort of reached his other hand toward her.

Myrtle went right to his side. “Are you ok, Fred?” she asked, concerned. It felt as if he was about to fall over.

“I think the nurses forgot about me,” he complained. “I’ve been walking and walking....” his voice trailed off.

“Well I think it would be all right for you to go back to your room, Fred,” declared Myrtle, a little aghast that Fred would just keep walking around in the hallway.

Fred looked at her, as if a light was dawning. “Oh yeah...” he said. “I never thought of that.”

As Myrtle guided Fred back to his bed, she wondered if the doctor had accidentally done a little brainechtomy on Fred as well. Then she wondered if it was the drugs. Maybe that little bit of pain-killer was keeping him all bumfuzzled, she reasoned. Once she had Fred all tucked in, she took off her jacket and settled into the chair beside him.

“Oh Myrtle,” he moaned. “I’m so tired. I went up and down... up and down...”

“There, there, Fred,” she comforted. “You can rest now.” But it was a kind of pointless statement since Fred’s eyes were already closed, he whimpered, and was quite obviously dozing off.

Great, thought Myrtle. She had wanted to return his credit card and chat about a few things, like where he wanted the phone in his apartment. But once again, there she was, sitting beside Fred as he snoozed. She sighed deeply. Myrtle wasn’t sure which was more trying ~ all the work she was doing for Fred, or sitting around listening to his incision heal. It was all quite the investment for what seemed like a promising relationship, she told herself. She couldn’t help thinking, rather sardonically, that it better pay off.

Myrtle would have rather been at home, but she sat for awhile longer with Fred, then went and got a magazine. After reading that for awhile, she went to the hospital cafeteria again for supper. Fred was awake and having his own supper when she got back.

“Oh Myrtle,” he said, smiling. “I was afraid you’d left!”

“Just taking some nourishment,” she smiled.

“Me too,” he nodded.

After supper, Fred was feeling much better and the two chatted much of the evening away. Myrtle returned Fred’s card, tried to describe the new curtains, asked him about his phone, and so much more. She went home at the end of visiting hours smiling and feeling much better.

A Revealing Walk

Fred rested for a bit, but he woke up before long and was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling long enough to get really bored and wish he had a magazine or something. He was even beginning to think a visit from his mother would at least punch a hole in his boredom and wake him up more. He gave his head a shake and wondered if another shot of something in his IV wouldn’t be preferable.

Once again, as if on cue, a nurse bustled into his room with a little cart. She did indeed have a needle for his IV, and she took his vital signs and recorded them. But then she smiled sweetly and told Fred he had to get up. He stared.

“Mr. Luckinbill, you have to take a little walk before lunch today. The medication I just gave you is very mild. You can have more after lunch, but only if you get up.” The nurse once again smiled sweetly. “You can let me know when you’re ready,” she said. Then she bustled away with her cart.

Fred stared at the door. It was like blackmail or something. He’d just had his stomach cut open. He had to get up?

Myrtle meanwhile, was debating the merits of two different sets of curtains. Both were a brown and cream design ~ quite plain really, but the patterns were enough to break up the monotony of a solid colour, without being loud. And both were relatively inexpensive, which was part of Myrtle’s criteria. It was difficult to choose for somebody else. In the end, she decided to see if Fred’s card would buy both and let him make up his mind. She figured if his card wouldn’t do it, she could buy one on hers.

At the checkout the cashier looked at Myrtle when she handed her Fred’s credit card. Myrtle smiled, the cashier shrugged, the sale went through. Myrtle signed the slip with her own name and departed happily.

At the hospital, she was carrying both parcels down the hall toward Fred’s room when she saw a man up ahead with his butt crack showing as he pushed his IV stand along beside him. Myrtle almost dropped her packages as a nurse rushed by her with a gown in her hands.

“Mr. Luckinbill!” called the nurse. Myrtle almost dropped her parcels again. Fred started to turn, ever so slowly, so that he pretty effectively mooned a patient in the room across from him. In fact, Myrtle heard an audible, feminine gasp. But then the nurse caught up to Fred and wrapped another gown around his back. Myrtle decided to slip into Fred’s nearby room if she could, before he saw her.

She was waiting there, the curtains sitting on Fred’s bed, when he made his way back to the room. He was still blushing furiously and the nurse was helping him along. Myrtle grabbed the parcels out of the way as the nurse got Fred settled back into bed.

“All tucked in,” said the nurse, with a sigh of relief. “Now Mr. Luckinbill, it was great that you did get up, but you were supposed to ring for a nurse. We’ll get you up again after lunch. Call us when you’re ready,” she said with emphasis. Then she smiled, her eyes still a little wide, nodded toward Myrtle, and bustled out.

Fred was pouting. He looked at Myrtle and once again put her mind of a beagle hound. She couldn’t help chuckling.

“They told me to get up and walk,” he whimpered. “I didn’t know my ass was showing. Why don’t they make these gowns wrap all the way around?” he whined. “How much did you see, Myrtle,” he asked, sniffing.

“You have a cute ass, Fred,” smiled Myrtle. She patted him on the hands. “It’s ok,” she assured him. “Anyone who’s ever had a plumber in to fix pipes has probably seen as much,” she chuckled again.

Fred smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t wanna even get up in the first place. It hurt,” he whined. “They said I had to,” he said accusingly toward the door.

“It’s ok, Fred,” Myrtle said again. “I have some curtains for you to look at,” she said enthusiastically, trying to change the subject and somehow make curtains sound exciting.

Eggs, Curtains and Pain

Fred was eating his breakfast when Myrtle arrived at the hospital the next day. They’d brought him a hard boiled egg, some toast, a bran muffin, juice and tea. He was struggling, trying to eat the egg with a knife and fork. It kept shooting away across the plate.

“Pick it up, Fred,” said Myrtle, before even saying hello.

Fred smiled up at her. “Hi Myrtle. Really?”

“Yes, it’ll be a lot easier to eat if you just take a bite out of it,” she nodded.

“I’m not used to having my eggs this way,” he whined. “The girl who brought it told me to enjoy my rubber ball,” he said, taking a bite out of the egg.

Myrtle chuckled. The girl probably knew what she was talking about. “How are you feeling, Fred?” Fred looked at her helplessly, his mouth full of egg. “Chew first,” said Myrtle, smiling. “I’ll wait.”

Fred tried to smile, still chewing egg. It didn’t make a pretty picture, but Myrtle just sat back in the chair and got comfortable. “Muffin looks good,” she commented.

While Fred ate, Myrtle explained her plan for buying his curtains. She also explained that she couldn’t sit with him for much of the day, because there was still a lot to do at his apartment to get it ready for him. She got up and buttered his muffin for him, and set his tea a bit closer.

“Don’t mind tea, but would have preferred coffee,” complained Fred.

“Make sure you order coffee for tomorrow then, Fred,” said Myrtle, just a shade impatiently.

“I can order?” squeaked Fred.

“Oh yes. Someone will probably come by later with a menu and let you fill in requests. I guess they didn’t do that yesterday ‘cause you were in surgery,” she speculated.

“Oh,” said Fred.

Myrtle could see he was tired and a bit confused. He was probably also still medicated, she thought. She was kind of relieved that she had so much to do and didn’t have to just hang around the hospital all day. She sympathized with Fred, but no one is great company when they’re dozing off all the time, she thought.

“Can you afford the curtains, Myrtle?” Fred asked suddenly, once he’d pushed his tray away.

“Um... I guess,” said Myrtle. She hadn’t really given it a lot of thought. “I’ll just put them on my credit card and you can pay me back?”

“Why don’t you take my credit card with you?” asked Fred. He gestured toward the little side table drawer. Myrtle opened it. There was his wallet, beside his shaving kit. She was a little surprised. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea for Fred to have the wallet there.

As if reading her mind, Fred opened the wallet and said, “I didn’t bring any cash, but my I.D. and one credit card is in here, just in case I needed it. There’s not much on it, but it should do curtains ok,” he said, handing it to Myrtle.

“I don’t know if they’ll let me use it,” she hesitated.

“Worth a try,” said Fred, smiling. "Just don't sign it 'Fred Luckinbill,'" he giggled. "You don't look like a Fred." Then he moaned. “I’m not sure my stomach likes food,” he said, grimacing. “Take it, Myrtle,” he insisted, pushing his head into his pillow and giving a dismissive little wave.

“Ok, Fred,” she shrugged, tucking the card into her purse. She supposed it was indeed worth a try. In fact, as much as she wanted to comfort Fred in his evident pain, there was really nothing she could do and no reason to dawdle around. She tucked the card into a pocket in her purse, gave Fred a little kiss on the forehead, and told him she’d better get on it.

Fred grimaced and gave her a little wave. He seemed content for her to leave, as if he didn't want her to see him in such pain.

“Try to rest, Fred,” she said, returning his wave as she backed out of the room.

Myrtle headed out to the mall where there were a couple of department stores. She had the measurements, Fred’s credit card and determination. Most of Fred’s new furnishings were predominantly brown, so she was sure it shouldn’t be all that challenging to find curtains that would look nice, without being loud, she thought.

Meanwhile, once his discomfort had subsided a bit, Fred did indeed get some more rest after his breakfast. But later in the morning, the nurses had other plans for him.

Wassamadder?

Myrtle was jerked awake by a deep chuckle nearby. She opened her eyes groggily and sat up, looking around. Giving her head a shake, she realized she’d fallen asleep, her head on the edge of Fred’s hospital bed, her hand still holding his. Fred was snoring softly beside her. She sniffed and looked up the two people smiling widely at the scene.

“I’m Dr. Wadkins,” said the man amiably. “I’m sorry to wake you, but visiting hours are over and we have to wake Fred,” he explained.

“Oh,” said Myrtle numbly, giving her head another shake and taking a deep breath. She never fell asleep like that. Ever. She didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or amazed. She let go of Fred’s hand and stood up.

Meanwhile, the nurse who’d come in with the doctor had moved to Fred’s side. Standing over him she gently tapped his cheek, saying “Mr. Luckinbill.... wake up now.”

Fred jerked awake, his eyes wide, his mouth open. “Wassamadder?” he enquired. Myrtle couldn’t help chuckling along with the doctor.

“Hey Fred,” said Dr. Wadkins, taking the nurse’s place over him. “How are you feeling?” Myrtle couldn’t help thinking it was kind of a stupid question, but she saw where it needed to be asked. The doctor smiled down at a still groggy Fred. “Are you awake, Fred?”

Fred snorted, then nodded his head. “What’s happening?” he squeaked.

“Everything went text book,” the doctor said, smiling. “Now we just really need you to get a good nights sleep, and hopefully tomorrow we can get you up for a bit.”

Fred blinked. “You woke me up to tell me to go to sleep,” he asked, quite plainly perplexed.

“Well I thought you’d want to know that the operation went well,” smiled Dr. Wadkins, as the nurse chuckled behind him. “Don’t worry, the nurses will see to it that you rest. I’ll be back tomorrow evening to see how you’ve done,” he finished, standing upright again.

The doctor turned and smiled at Myrtle, who sort of gathered her wits. “Oh.... yes... “ she said. “I’m going to go now, Fred,” she offered, patting Fred on the hand. “I’ve stayed past visiting hours, so I have to go. You rest. I’ll be back in the morning, ok?”

“Ok Myrtle,” sniffed Fred, looking at her, then back at the doctor, then at Myrtle again.

With that, Myrtle nodded at the doctor and the nurse and backed away, giving Fred a little wave as she did. Then she left the room and headed for the parking lot, hoping the car hadn’t been ticketed since she’d been there longer than intended. She was still marvelling at having fallen asleep the way she did. “Must be tired,” she said aloud to herself as she opened the car door. There was no ticket, so she started the car and headed for home.

Meanwhile, the doctor had departed Fred’s room, leaving the nurse to once again insert a needle into Fred’s IV. She smiled down at Fred, fluffed his pillow, then walked away too, leaving Fred staring at the ceiling, still wondering why they’d wakened him.

By the time Myrtle got home she was wide awake, so she started a fire in the stove to warm the damp cottage, then made sure everything of Fred’s that was still at her house was by the door. There was a backpack and a cardboard box. She knew Fred didn’t have much because everything had perished when his apartment burned down. But she also knew he’d been at his mom’s for awhile, so she hoped he’d packed up everything he really wanted from there before he went into the hospital. Myrtle didn’t know Flora very well, or how likely she was to hold a grudge, but she knew she didn’t want to have to go knock on her door to pick up anything of Fred’s that he might want. If he still had things he wanted at his mother’s, he’d have to get it himself, she thought.

That decided, she fixed herself a snack and considered where to go for Fred’s curtains. They never did get around to shopping for any and he was going to need them if he didn’t want his neighbours watching his every move at night. Myrtle didn’t really like picking out something like that for someone else, but she decided she’d see what she could find, then take her purchase to the hospital to check with Fred before taking them to his apartment to hang.

She sighed. No wonder she’d fallen asleep on his bed, she thought. Throwing another log on the fire, Myrtle chose a book from her collection and curled up on the couch beside the woodstove. Whatever tomorrow brought, it brought, she thought, opening the book.