Now That You Mention It
Page 68

We put him in a pair of scrubs, gave him a shot of B12 and antibiotics, then wrapped his feet in gauze and put him in bed.
“Mr. Banks,” Amelia said, “I’m going to ask that you stay here for a few days.”
“I don’t have any money,” he said.
“You don’t need any,” Amelia said. “You’re our guest. There’s no charge.”
“I guess that would be all right,” he said, relief painted over his face.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“A little,” he said, but his eyes lit up.
“I’ll take care of this,” Amelia said. “It’s the least I can do, Nora, and you have more patients. Mr. Banks and I will get to know each other.” She smiled at him kindly.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll check back with you in a little while, Mr. Banks. Make yourself comfortable.”
He smiled at me, looking so much better than he had when he came in.
My heart felt too big for my chest. The poor man! We’d have to call Social Services to check his home and see how bad his conditions really were.
The warm fuzzies were short-lived. “Perineal abscess in Room Two,” Gloria said, back from her break. “Hugely inflamed.”
Okay. She was definitely sending me a message. With a sigh, I went to see my next patient and got ready to drain pus.
I managed not to say anything else on the topic of one Robert Kennedy Byrne for the rest of the day. He hadn’t texted, emailed or called me, the coward.
If Gloria didn’t want to talk, that was up to her.
She changed her mind.
At 5:07 p.m., she came into my office and shut the door. “Hey,” I said.
“So I know the whole story,” she said, sitting down.
“Before we get started,” I said, “let me just say this. I really like you and don’t want this to be an issue. Bobby didn’t mention he was seeing someone, so it came as a surprise. Small world and all that. But you and I are coworkers and friends. I really wouldn’t want that to change.”
“Well, it has changed,” she said. “He told me everything.”
“Is that right?” I had my doubts already.
“We talked a lot about our exes,” she said. “That was one of the things we really bonded over. Robert told me all about you, even if he didn’t use your name.”
Really? He never uttered my name? And that never tipped her off to anything strange? Also, this Robert thing was pissing me off, as was her raised, know-it-all eyebrow. “It’s funny,” I said. “I’ve never heard him called Robert, even by his mom.” She didn’t respond. “So, what would you like to talk about, Gloria?”
“I’m kind of shocked at how dishonest you’ve been with me.”
“Me? I haven’t been dishonest.”
“You never mentioned how you left him, just like that, breaking his heart.”
I snorted. “Is that what he said?”
“You dumped him when he was going through a really hard time and moved back in with your mother.”
“Okay, well, first of all, I’m pretty sure I was the one going through a hard time, which I define by being hit by a van and knocked unconscious, breaking bones and dislocating joints. It was also hard when I woke up in the ER and he was flirting with—”
“He talked about how you took his dog—”
“Boomer is my dog.”
“—and even before that, how you totally changed after you started dating and were so needy and depressed that he had to do a suicide watch on you, and then when he was going through his stress, you dumped him.”
I took a long, slow breath. “I was never suicidal. Good God. I don’t know where he got that. As for his stress—” I raised my hands in a helpless gesture “—that’s news to me. Would you like to hear another version of our relationship? Because Bobby has left a lot out, it seems.”
“No,” she said. “I’m good.” She folded her arms and sat back in her chair, daring me to contradict anything she wanted to believe.
“Okay, then,” I said. “Believe what you want, and good luck with him.”
“I don’t need luck. Robert and I might’ve only known each other a month, but I can tell he’s the one. He already said he loves me.”
“Even though he still doesn’t know your last name or where you live.”
“He knows now.” She tilted her head.
Shit. I had to try. The Female Solidarity Commandment said so. “Gloria, he asked me to spend the night on Sunday. I didn’t get the impression he meant sleeping on the couch.”
“Yeah, right. Sure he did. He told me what happened, how you showed up and asked if you could stay and said you still loved him...”
The cowardly, lying shit. “Okay, we’re done here.”
“I hope you and I can continue working together,” she said. “It’d be a shame if you had to leave. Then again, I may be moving back to Boston soon.”
With that, she got up and left.
I sat there, my ears hot with anger, taking back every generous thought I’d had about Gloria. If she wanted to be obtuse—if she insisted on being obtuse—then let her.
I picked up the phone to call Xiaowen, then decided not to. After all, they were friends, too. Instead, I went to Gloria’s Facebook page.
Uploaded just last night were fifteen pictures of her and Bobby. Her relationship status had just changed from Single to In a relationship with Robert K. Byrne, MD.
Only Bobby would be asshole enough to register on Facebook with MD after his name.
Time to call him. It went to voice mail. Coward.
“Hi, it’s the pathetic ex-girlfriend who broke your heart and was on suicide watch and begged you to take me back. I’m calling to say I’ll be picking up Boomer on Friday, and this joint custody thing is over. Also, you’re a lying piece of scum.”
Then I hung up the phone and called Poe and asked if she was free for dinner, and if she’d mind if Audrey joined us. When you’re feeling sorry for yourself, my mother used to say, do something nice for someone else.
Speaking of that, I went down the hall into Mr. Banks’s room. Amelia had left for the day, so he was alone, asleep, looking very peaceful. I checked his chart—Amelia had already put in a call to Social Services, it said on the chart, and he’d had a good meal.
I went over to his bedside and pulled up the blanket to cover his shoulders.
This man might be my father, for all I knew. Alone, barely scraping by, sick, dirty.
Tears flooded my eyes. If my father was still out there, I’d take him in. I’d let him live with me, and I’d make sure he knew someone loved him.
If only I could know for sure. If only I could find him.
* * *
Audrey walked down from the boatyard, and Poe rode her bike to the houseboat. I made us a beautiful salad with scallops and pecans and let the girls tell me about their days. Audrey had power-washed three boats; Poe had slept till noon.
“Do you have a job for the summer, honey?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “Gran said I should get something, and I did apply to four places, but no one called me back.”
“You can work at the boatyard,” Audrey offered.
“Doing what?”
“Whatever needs doing. Clean the boats, varnish decks, pump the head—”