23
“Mr. Moskowitz was a terrible plan anyway,” Janet said on the phone later that week. “You don’t want her three doors down from you.”
“No, you’re right. I know you’re right. But who, then?”
Janet didn’t have ideas but suggested I get Eddie in on looking. “He knows everyone who shops at the store.”
I said I would ask him the next time I saw him, though I knew full well that Janet would be calling him as soon as she hung up with me.
On Wednesday the following week, I made the rounds at the hospital, taking food orders. It had been a busy night Tuesday, which most of the nurses attributed to a full moon, and the candy stripers, Ruth included, were occupied with patients.
And I never minded helping however I could, whether it was in my job description or not.
At Harry’s funeral, the rabbi explained that the Jewish custom of each mourner dropping a spade of dirt onto the coffin was a mitzvah of the highest order, because it was one that could never be repaid.
The nurses’ whole job was that kind of mitzvah.
Emulating them was the closest I would ever be able to come to repaying them.
The patient in room 213 had just been released by the surgical team. I glanced at the chart hanging outside his door—emergency appendectomy.
“Good morning, Mr. Goldberg,” I said as I walked in. A handsome older man looked up at me, with silver hair and brilliant blue eyes.
“Good morning,” he said, sitting up straighter, then wincing and pressing his hand to the right side of his abdomen.
“No sudden movements,” I said, crossing to check and make sure he didn’t need a bandage change. “How bad is the pain?”
But he smiled up at me with perfect white teeth. “All better. Well, mostly. Just need to remember to go slow.”
“At least until your stitches are out,” I said, returning his smile.
I found my eyes traveling to his left hand, which rested next to him on the bed.
No ring. Then again, they would have removed it for the surgery, I chided myself.
And as an actual hospital employee, I needed to stay professional.
“Now,” I said, back to business, “let’s get you all set up for lunch so you can get better and go home. ”
But after I left his room, I made a pit stop at the chalkboard by the nurses’ station and switched the side of the hall that Ruth was assigned to. If sparks flew between a volunteer and a patient, well ... it wouldn’t be the first time a candy striper found love on the ward.
Though it might be the first time said candy striper was pushing sixty.
When it was time to clock out, Ruth was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Gloria’s arm as she went past. “Have you seen my mother-in-law?”
Gloria laughed. “Oh, you don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
She grinned wryly. “Sounds like she caught the fish in 213, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s been in there for the last hour.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
I might have taken a second look at his chart. He was single. Three years younger than Ruth, but I didn’t see that mattering at their age.
I went down the hall and paused outside the room. But all I heard coming from inside was low voices and the occasional laugh. Maybe I should let them have more time, I thought, checking my watch. If I called Janet, she’d be happy to take the kids to her house for an hour or two.
I shook my head, remembering my own long-ago single days.
It was better to leave them wanting more.
So I rapped on the doorframe with the back of my hand before walking in.
Ruth was sitting on Mr. Goldberg’s bed and apparently neither of them heard my knock.
“... and the next thing I know, I hear a siren,” she was saying.
“The popcorn!” Mr. Goldberg said, laughing.
“Meanwhile, I’m trying to get the puppy to do her business and have no idea the house is burning down. I smelled smoke and went around the front to see whose house was on fire. Imagine my surprise when it was mine.”
Mr. Goldberg looked up and saw me, then cleared his throat.
“Well,” Ruth said, turning around. “I suppose it was her house. Barbara, darling, have you forgiven me for the kitchen yet?”
No, I thought. “The fire? Of course. That could have happened to anyone.” I looked from her to him. “Well, anyone who stored popcorn in the oven.” Mr. Goldberg chuckled. “The wallpaper, on the other hand ...”
Ruth turned back to Mr. Goldberg. “You should see the wallpaper I picked out. It’s so festive. Barbara here was going to paint the kitchen yellow, which is fine, of course, but so bland. Cooking, especially for people you love, is too fun for bland.”
“Fun” was one way to describe Ruth’s cooking. “Terrifying” was another. But I couldn’t exactly throw a zinger at her in front of the man who I hoped would be my savior by removing her from my house.
“I’m just teasing,” I said. “The kids love it.”
“Barbara is a wonderful mother,” Ruth said. “They’re the two best-behaved children in the entire world. Truly.”
I eyed her carefully, but there was no sarcasm in her voice. Likely she was just acting the part of the perfect mother-in-law to curry favor with the handsome man whose bed she was sitting on, but I’d take it.
“Speaking of which,” I said. “It’s time to head home so I’m not late picking them up from school. But if you’re not ready, I can—”
Ruth stood up and smoothed her pinafore. “No, of course. I lost track of time.” She smiled beatifically at Mr. Goldberg, and I was once again struck by how pretty she was when she bestowed a smile on someone. “We’ll continue this conversation tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it,” Mr. Goldberg said. Then he turned to me. “You’ve got quite the mother-in-law.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said. “Have a good night, Mr. Goldberg. The nursing staff here is fantastic. They’ll take good care of you.”
“Sam,” he said.
“At work, I’m afraid you’re Mr. Goldberg,” I said. “But candy stripers have different rules.”
On the drive home, Ruth was uncharacteristically chatty about her new friend.
“So handsome,” she said. “And a widower—but he’s been alone for fifteen years now.
No children. And a great sense of humor.
He just needs someone to take care of him.
Imagine—he could have died if he hadn’t been able to call for an ambulance himself. ”
“Thank goodness for small miracles,” I murmured, but I was practically vibrating with the potential here. I had never seen Ruth so giddy before.
No, that wasn’t true. She was when we told her I was pregnant with Susie. And again when Bobby was born. But certainly not since Harry had died. I couldn’t wait to tell Janet.
The following day, Ruth told me she was just going to pop in and check on Mr. Goldberg before doing her rounds. “Go,” I said, shooing her with my hands. “It’s a light day. You spend as much time with him as you—as he needs.”
Ruth patted my arm. “This is why you’re so good at this job. You care about people.”
I could get used to the smitten version of my mother-in-law. I wouldn’t even mind visits with her if she was this pleasant and full of praise.
One volunteer down, I was on my feet for the full five hours of my shift, taking only a minute break to gulp down a cup of coffee and have a bite of a doughnut at noon before I was needed again. But I hardly noticed being hungry or overextended. I was about to be free. I just knew it.
As I clocked out and went to get Ruth, Dr. Worlitzer was in Mr. Goldberg’s room. “... looks right on track for us to discharge you tomorrow morning.”
“Wonderful,” Mr. Goldberg said, then shot a glance at Ruth. “I’ll certainly miss the care here, however. Might have to fake an injury to come back.”
“Nonsense,” Ruth said, putting a hand on top of his. She was on his bed again. Had she been a young girl, I would have scolded her for sitting so close. “Why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow night? A good home-cooked meal is exactly what you need to recover fully.”
Mr. Goldberg glanced up at me and grinned. “And is that okay with the mistress of the house? I don’t want to impose—especially when children are involved.”
I couldn’t very well suggest that he take her out instead when the whole pretense for the meeting was a home-cooked meal. But Ruth’s cooking was likely to sour the match. I would have to convince Ruth to let me make the meal—and all subsequent ones until there was a ring on her finger.
“The mistress of the house thinks it’s perfectly fine to come for dinner,” I said. “Ruth can write down our address in case we don’t see you tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, I already gave him our number,” Ruth said, smiling at Mr. Goldberg. “I’m not letting this one get away that easy.”