health they’ve been given. I can’t help but take offense
at that. But of course I see so many patients who complain about the least little infirmity. They don’t understand real suffering and helplessness.”
Judith gave Corinne a compassionate smile. “That’s
true. I feel so helpless now, but I know I’ll get over it.
I’m grateful for that. Meanwhile, though—are you
aware that my husband is on the fourth floor as a result
of a severe stab wound?”
Corinne gave a start. “That was your husband? No.
I didn’t realize . . . I’m so sorry.”
“They moved him from the ICU to the fourth floor
last night,” Judith explained. “I can’t get through on
the phone this morning. Would it be an imposition to
ask you to check on him for me? I’m very worried.”
“I’ll try,” Corinne said, though she sounded dubious.
“I must finish my rounds first, though.”
“I’d certainly appreciate it,” Judith said. “Of course
I’ll keep calling up there.”
Breakfast arrived while Corinne was taking Renie’s
vitals. “Say,” Renie said to the nurse, “you don’t happen to have an extra tray this morning, do you? I got
cheated on dinner last night, and I’m famished.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Corinne replied, then
turned back to Judith. “We’re going to try to get you
in the shower today. I imagine you’re tired of sponge
baths.”
Judith made a noncommittal noise. The sponge
baths were dreary, but she was frightened by the
thought of standing in a shower. Before starting to eat
her breakfast, she tried to call the fourth floor again.
The line was still busy.
Corinne went off on the rest of her rounds. Judith
nibbled on toast and a soft-boiled egg. Renie, mean-262
Mary Daheim
while, was devouring oatmeal mush, grapefruit, toast,
eggs, and bacon.
“If you don’t want all of yours, I’ll eat it,” Renie volunteered.
“I’m not hungry,” Judith admitted. “I’m too worried about Joe.”
Renie started to say something, but stopped when
she saw Margie Randall enter the room. The recent
widow wore her volunteer’s blue smock and a surprisingly cheerful expression.
“Nurse Appleby told me you had an errand,” Margie
said, smiling at Judith. “I understand it involves your
husband.”
“It does,” Judith said, and explained the situation.
Though Margie didn’t seem particularly moved by
Judith’s plight, she shook her head in commiseration.
“That’s terrible. Those homeless people are dangerous,
not only to themselves, but to others. I hope they catch
whoever did it. Was Mr. Flynn robbed?”
“No,” Judith replied. “What makes you ask?”
