'About time we dressed up this place,' he said, still grinning from ear to ear. He shot a look at Mrs. Crandle, who raised her eyes toward the ceiling.
'Just what we needed,' she remarked, 'another thing to distract you from your work.'
'Don't mind her. I'm never distracted from any-thing I put my mind on,' he said, keeping his gaze fixed on me. He dropped his eyes slowly and raised them with a look of appreciation. 'That's the sexiest nurse's aide uniform I've seen,' he added.
'There aren't any that fit me better, but . . .' I began, feeling my face grow warm as my cheeks turned crimson.
'Hey, I didn't say this doesn't fit you.' He laughed. He was still holding my hand.
'We've got to start bringing the juice to the patients,' I said.
'Sure.' He flashed another amused smile and released my hand.
'She gonna be a doctor too,' Sophie bragged.
'Is that right?'
'Yes,' I said.
'Not a nurse, a doctor?'
I looked at Mrs. Crandle who had turned back to me sharply when he asked the question.
'I think nurses are just as important,' I said, 'but I'm interested in practicing medicine outside the hospital too.'
'Oh? Very ambitious.' He frowned, putting ripples in his forehead. In a deeper voice he asked, 'How are your grades in school?'
'I was class valedictorian,' I said.
He raised his eyebrows. 'Impressive. We better watch our p's and q's, Mrs. Crandle,' he joked.
'I would say you should watch the whole alphabet and not just the p's and q's,' she remarked. 'I have an I.V. to hook up. Don't you have anything to do, Doctor?'
'Whoa,' he said. 'Yes, I do. Well, good luck, Pearl. Please don't hesitate to ask me any questions,' he said and reluctantly followed Mrs. Crandle.
'He's always making jokes,' Sophie said. 'Mrs. Crandle says some of his patients will laugh them-selves to death. Can people do that, laugh themselves to death?'
'I don't think so,' I said. She looked unconvinced, but nodded and then showed me where everything was located. I loaded my cart and began my rounds. There were two elderly women in my first room, one of whom was on a heart monitor; a man with a broken leg in the second, and a woman in her thirties undergoing tests for a stomach problem in the third. Her name was Sheila, and she was obviously very nervous and concerned. 'I have to fast for a day,' she told me. 'Tomorrow morning I'm having another test.'
'What's wrong with your stomach?' I asked.
'I get terrible pains right here whenever I eat,' she said, pointing.
'They're looking at your gallbladder?'
'Yes. How did you know? Did the same thing happen to you once?' she asked hopefully.
'No. I just know that's where it is and that's where you would feel pain if it was acting up. But that doesn't have to be the reason,' I added quickly.
'I know,' she said sadly. 'It could be something else. It could be something far more serious.'
'Don't get yourself upset. Wait for all the reports. Most of the time, our imaginations make more of it than it is,' I told her. I had overheard our doctor say that to Mommy once when Pierre and Jean both came down with a bad case of whooping cough. Sheila smiled, and I fixed her bed and made her more comfortable.
When I turned to go on to my next room, I saw Dr. Weller standing in the doorway, a slow grin forming around his lips. He stepped back into the corridor as I emerged with the juice cart.
'I overheard what you said.' He leaned toward me. 'If Mrs. Winthrop heard you giving patients medical advice, she would send you right home.'
'I didn't give—'
'You let her believe it might be her gallbladder. Uh-uh-uh,' he said, wagging his forefinger. Then he laughed. 'It's all right. Chances are very good that you're right. Actually,' he said, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms, 'you did a smart thing deciding to work in the hospital during your summer vacation. You'll pick up a lot just hanging around and listening.'
'That's what I thought, too,' I said.
'You know, I'm studying and learning every day myself. I'm interning here under Dr. Bardot. He's constantly testing me.' He smiled. 'I bet you can help me,' he said, nodding with a thoughtful look.
'Me? How?'
'You can be my study partner. You know, ask questions, test me on stuff. Do you have a heavy social schedule?' he asked.
'Social schedule?'
'Do you punch a clock with a boyfriend, too?'
'Oh. No, not anymore,' I said.
