Chapter Nineteen

“Antonio, I need a favor.”

“Anything for you, Dr. McIntyre. Just name it.”

Gonzo stuck his head in the door, and Trapper waved him in.

“I need dinner delivered to the hospital. Can you do that?”

Gonzo smiled and waved goodbye.

“Hold on just a minute, Antonio.” Moving the telephone receiver away from his ear, Trapper asked, “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be off.”

“I’m not here. I just wanted to see if you were interested in coming over to the Titanic for a glass of wine before you left. But I see you’re already making plans. If you have some time later on, come on by.”

Nodding, Trapper said, “I’ll do that. Antonio, sorry about that. I’d like two of your Salmon Milano dinners, iced tea, and two pieces of your Tiramisu for dessert. And if you’ll deliver those on your restaurant dishes, I promise to bring them back. Oh, and flowers for the table…and a candle.”

“Where and when?”

“Outside the cafeteria…say about seven?”

“Is this for a new one or an existing one?”

Trapper smiled. “You’ve never met her. She’s a patient.”

***

Trapper opened the door to a darkened room. He listened for a moment, and when he heard a sniffle, he continued to the side of the bed. “Leah,” he said softly.

She was facing away from him, and pulling a tissue from the box on the side table, she quickly wiped her eyes and nose, and turned over. “Hi,” she said quietly, offering an apologetic smile.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Trapper took her hand. “What’s this all about?”

“I had another visit from Dr. Matthews. He has a way of doing this to me.”

“I see. Is it getting any easier?”

“No, not really. He wants me to take something for depression.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“I was on medication for depression after my transplant. Though it did have a calming effect some of the time, I knew it was fake. One minute I was laughing, and the next I was crying. I didn’t feel like it was helping, so I don’t see how it will help now.”

“Well, maybe getting out of this room will help. Did you forget about dinner?”

“No,” she said, blushing. “I was trying to figure out how to let you down easy.”

“You can’t. I ordered in, and as far as I know, we have the outside of the cafeteria all to ourselves. Why don’t you put on your new pajamas and grab your robe? Your dinner awaits.”

***

Trapper had removed his white hospital coat and replaced it with his sport jacket before he left his office for Leah’s room. Now he, in his street clothes and Leah, in her new black satin pajamas and matching robe walked through the main cafeteria and out the doors to the patio where Antonio was patiently waiting to serve them.

After Trapper seated her and took the chair across the table from her, Antonio began serving, identifying each dish as he placed it on the linen covered table. “We have Salmon Milano seared to perfection in dill butter accompanied by our own asparagus risotto, fresh rosemary-olive oil yeast bread, a carafe of our house Zinfandel, and for dessert Tiramisu. I also have a carafe of iced tea, if you prefer.” He lit a candle in the middle of a shallow bowl of flowers, bowed, and bid them a good evening, disappearing into the night.

Leah looked at the table with her mouth open in pleasant surprise. “How did you manage this? This looks…delicious.” She looked up at him with a wide grin.

“I’ve only seen you eat soup, salad and hospital food. There’s more to life than that,” he answered, matching her grin.

As the two began eating their dinner, Leah asked, “How much longer do I have to stay in the hospital?”

“That’s entirely up to Dr. Gates.”

“Oh, come on. You’re as familiar with my condition as Dr. Gates. How long do you think? I promise I won’t hold Dr. Gates to your answer.”

“Well, I think that depends on what progress Dr. Matthews feels you’re making. Once we do another echocardiogram, if everything looks alright, I see no physical reason why you can’t finish recuperating at home. But Dr. Matthews may not want you alone just yet.” She frowned, and her shoulders slumped. “Leah, you just had major heart surgery on a heart you weren’t born with. My advice is not to rush this.”

She set her fork down on her plate. “I’m afraid I’ve never been good at being cooped up.” Trapper gave her an incredulous look. “I know, I know. I work in a basement. But my mind is occupied there, and I don’t notice the…confining walls and ceiling. I don’t have much to do in my room, but…think.” She became quiet. “I don’t want to think…all the time.”

“I’ll see if I can arrange some time off for good behavior,” said Trapper, smiling.

“Can I have another glass of wine? It’s very good.”

“Are you taking any pain meds?”

“I get one at night…so I can sleep.”

“Then no,” he said, reaching for the carafe of tea and pouring a glass.

“What does time off mean?”

“It means a furlough…maybe…from the hospital. I can’t make any promises until I speak to your doctor.”

Turning up one side of her mouth, she tried not to smile. She looked down at her plate, and pushed her food around. “Dr. McIntyre?”

“I wish you’d call me Trapper. After all, we will be working together once you’re all healed up. And I think Dr. Matthews might even give you bonus points.”

“About Dr. Matthews…”

Trapper looked up from his dinner. “What about him?”

“I don’t want to talk to him anymore.”

Setting his fork down, he wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Why not?” he asked calmly.

Without looking him in the eye, she explained, “We talk about what he wants to talk about; not what I need to talk about. The man has his own agenda, and I mean a physical agenda, when I walk in his office. He started with my childhood, looking for problems there to explain problems now.” Looking into Trapper’s eyes, she continued, “I had a wonderful childhood. I had a wonderful life with John and the children, and the only issue I have now is that…” She leaned back in her chair. “They’re gone and I…I don’t know how to go on from here.”

“I’ll talk to Gonzo. We do have a psychiatrist on staff that might suit you better.”

“Who?”

“His name is David Sandler. He’s a little unconventional, but he knows his stuff. And he’ll be better able to keep up with your medical issues since he’s a medical doctor. Now, I brought you down here to help you forget you’re in a hospital for awhile.”

Smiling, she said, “I’m sorry. You sidetracked me when you brought up Dr. Matthews. I was going to thank you for dinner.”

Trapper smiled at her smile. She had quite a lovely smile. “You’re welcome.” After a few minutes of silence, Trapper asked. “So tell me how you met Mark.”

“Mark?” she said with raised eyebrows. “Well, we met in college. And for most of my career, he’s been able to hire on at the same companies. Then when I could hire my own people, I hired him. We’ve been doing the same type of work together for a long time now…fourteen years. It’s not always a hospital application, but the basic framework is the same.”

“You know he has feelings for you, don’t you?”

She froze in mid-chew for a moment before she finished chewing. “Well, we’ve always been good friends. He’s like a brother. In fact, we just had a big sister-kid brother discussion earlier this afternoon.” She took a sip of tea. “Besides, he’s younger than me.”

“Can’t be by much,” said Trapper, watching her as he swirled his wine and took a sip.

“Three years.”

Leaning forward, Trapper looked sideways at her. “Who made the rule that said the man had to be older than the woman in a relationship? Seems to me it shouldn’t matter. After all, you were thirteen years younger than John.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Okay, I’ll bite. I don’t feel that way about Mark. And if I find that he feels that way about me, I’m just going to have to set him straight. I hope, for both our sakes, that you’re wrong. It would make working with him…awkward.”

“I can understand why you might not feel that way now. After all, in a lot of ways, you’ve still been married for the last four years. But there will come a time, Leah, when you’re going to start thinking that way about someone. And it may well be Mark.” Trapper put their dinner plates to the side and sat a plate of Tiramisu in front of her.

“Thank you. I haven’t had Tiramisu in a very long time,” she said, smiling.

“You’re already very comfortable with him. That’s how it starts.”

“Well, I’m getting comfortable with you. Is that supposed to mean something?” she asked with a dismissive smirk. She didn’t see the slight rise of Trapper’s chin, the barely visible narrowing of his eyes or his imperceptible smile.