Kat suffered her mother’s smothering hug while Ryan watched with a faint grin.
“No. Well, she didn’t actually have any surgeries, Mrs. Argounova. I’m just here as a consult.”
“A consult? What does this mean?”
“Mama, he’s helping me,” Kat interjected. “Just back off with the questions. I’m fine.”
Her mother glanced over at her, then back at the man across from her, studying him with an unfathomable look in her eye.
“Mama,” Kat warned in a low voice. She didn’t want her doing any of her weird perceptive nonsense. Not here, not now.
“Dr. Ryan McCarthy, you have my many thanks,” her mama finally managed. But she still looked at him for an unnaturally long time, long past the time she should have looked away. Then she extended one plump hand. “Please, call me Elena. You and my daughter are friends?”
He and Kat looked at each other. “No. Well—” Kat said, as Ryan said, “Yes.”
“And you are good duk-ter? You take excellent care of her?”
“I’ll do my best. But I do have a surgery to prepare for now, so I’d better go.”
“Yes, you must go.” Her mother nodded as if it had been her own brilliant idea, although Kat could tell he was dying to get out of there. “You go and do surgeries, yes. Many blessings on your head.”
Ryan took one last look at Kat and left, brushing by her sisters. She wondered if she’d ever see him again. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to or not. Her mother watched him go too, then turned to Kat, hugging her close, clucking over the bandage around her head.
“My baby girl. You see, this going out, dancing, partying all night. When they call last night, I drive here expecting the worst. Gospodi, a call from the hospital! I didn’t tell your father. It will kill him with worry.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
“When will you outgrow this nonsense? It is time to grow up now into lady. You must find a good man and settle down. What about this duk-ter? He is your friend?”
“He’s just…some guy. I don’t know. I barely know him.”
“One of your, how do they say, ‘man sluts’—”
“Mama, please.”
“I am only saying he is handsome, duk-ter, probably rich man. Maybe you get to know him better, zaika.”
“Life is not all about bagging a rich man, Mama.”
“I didn’t ever say rich man was all in life. I never did. Is your father a rich man? Not so much. What is important is to find a man who makes you happy. You, girl. You run around, you wear your short skirts and clonky shoes and your hair…” Elena sighed, lifting a tangled mass of Kat’s curly locks from beneath the bandage.
Kat pulled away. “I got this tragic hair from you, you realize.”
“Don’t take that tone with me.” Her mother enfolded her in another smothering hug, pressing her to her ample chest. “Katyusha, my own. I only want you to be happy. It is my wish for you, my one wish. You know this.”
“Yes, Mama. I know. But it’s not that simple. I can’t just pretend to be happy, or bag some rich doctor and find happily ever after.”
“I know. You must find your way. You will find your way. I know this.” She pulled away and smiled down at Kat with a twinkle in her eye. “You know I do know, zaika.”
“Did your crystal ball tell you?”
“My heart tells me, you impossible brat. Now you rest. You get better, Katyusha mine.”
* * * * *
Later, after Ryan’s last surgery, he went to her floor and checked in at the nurses’ station. “Ekaterina Argounov,” he said, repeating the exotic name he’d learned from her chart. She had pronounced her mother’s name “mama,” with the accent on the second syllable. Her ethnicity fascinated him, like everything else about her.
His last surgery had run over, although it was ultimately successful. He hated to admit how antsy he’d gotten at the end, how impatient he was to see her—the girl he definitely didn’t want to get messed up with. But things were feeling messier than ever right now. He fought with himself as he walked down the quiet, sterile hallway. Why was he here when he had no intention of getting tangled up with her?
He stopped outside the door, looking through the window. The mama was sitting in Kat’s room by the bed. Kat was sitting up too, alert and awake. Her eyes flitted to his over her mother’s shoulder, her beautiful eyes that made him forget everything. Elena turned and saw him too.
“Dr. Ryan McCarthy! You come in.” Not would you like to come in? Not why don’t you join us? It was an order as emphatic as any he’d received as a child. He pushed the door open slowly as Kat stared daggers at him.
“I know you’re tired. I won’t stay. I just came by to—”
“Come in and sit,” Elena ordered, getting up. “I have to go to…gift shop. You stay here, you sit with her. You stay, yes? While I am gone?”
He was pretty sure the gift shop was closed, but he sat in the chair Elena shoved him toward and watched her sail out the door.
He studied Kat. Good, she looked better. Some part of him had feared a hidden pocket, a slow bleed. He worried all day about being paged for emergency surgery. He couldn’t have done it, not on her.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said at the same time he asked, “How are you feeling?”
They both paused. “I’m feeling okay,” Kat finally said. “Less groggy. I’m sorry about my mother, she’s a little—”
“Never apologize for your mother,” he said in a chiding tone that doubtlessly annoyed her. She stopped talking and stared at her hands. The awkward silence was stultifying. Just leave, you idiot. “So no pain? No visual disturbances?” Okay, that’s not leaving.
“No bad pain. Just the bruises. And the twenty stitches along the back of
