"Of course. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Hello, Father Randolph."
"Hello." He squinted at her, not sure he knew her. "I'm having trouble placing you."
"Seeing me out of context. My husband and I attend St. Pete's. You grew up with him, Ivan Richter?"
"Oh, sure! Crazy Ivan!" Blushing, he cleared his throat. "Childhood nickname. How is he?"
"He's well. He's working with his dad, they have a plumbing business."
"Yes, of course. So you must be—" He held up a hand when she was about to tell him. "I'll get it. I remember faces, mostly. I'm slower with names. Andi, right?"
"Yes! Gold star for you." She did her job quickly and efficiently, entering the numbers on an iPad. "What brings you by, Obi?"
"Visiting Wanda. Father Charlie's sick with the flu."
"Oh, gosh. I hope he's taking care of himself. He's bad about that."
"Yes, he is. I thought I'd drop by and see him later."
"Please, let me know how he is?"
"Sure will."
They shook hands, and she left.
He was just sitting down, when the door opened slowly. Wynter walked in. Her face was a little puffy, her nose and eyes red, but she was smiling.
He hopped up. "You okay?" he took her hands, guiding her to the seat.
"Much better. Thank you for calling her, she's really sweet."
"Yes, she is. I grew up with her family."
"And dated a short time, she said."
"A few weeks, until her mother found out. Catholic dating an Episcopalian? Scandal—film at eleven." He held up his hands, as if showing a headline.
"Surely she wasn't that upset?"
"She was horrified. It was the first time I encountered that kind of prejudice. Her brother and I were good friends. We were forbidden to associate, but we figured out ways around that."
"Hmm, maybe you missed your calling. You should have been a spy."
"Funnily enough, he grew up to be one."
"What? Are you serious?"
He waved it away, realizing he probably shouldn't have said anything. Ralan wasn't in the spy game anymore, but he didn't really like it widely known.
The door opened and a group of doctors walked in. Some were young, obviously students, but a couple others were older. A mature man, with graying temples, came forward, taking Wanda's hand.
"How are you feeling?" Dr. Fredrick asked.
"Not bad. Are you doing rounds at this hour?"
"I heard your daughter was here, and I thought we'd talk about—"
Wanda flashed him a hard look, giving a little shake of her head. Wynter didn't miss it.
"Mama, what's wrong?"
"No time like the present," Obi said softly.
"Give us a moment?"
"Sure. Everyone out." Her surgeon ushered the others out. The door swung shut behind them.
"What aren't you telling me, Mother?" Wynter's eyes flashed angrily.
"It wasn't appendicitis," Wanda replied. "I've got cancer."
"Where?"
"All over."
"Is it treatable?"
"That's what the doctor is going to tell us."
"Were you planning to tell me all this?"
"Yes. But the timing got thrown off by—everything."
"Meaning my meltdown."
"No, darling. Meaning their precipitous entrance. I was planning to tell you a little more gently."
"Nothing like ripping off the bandage," Wynter muttered. "Well?" she gestured angrily at Obi. "Tell them to come back in."
"Please," Wanda added.
"Please," Wynter said in a more subdued tone. "Mama! I can't lose you, too!"
Obi went to the door, speaking softly to the doctor.
"We'll deal with that, if the time comes," Wanda said as the doctors came back in.
One of the younger doctors presented the information quickly and succinctly.
"Have you decided what you want to do?" Dr. Fredrick asked.
"Yes. I'll do the treatments, surgery, whatever it takes. My daughter is here with me. We'll fight this together."
"Excellent. Dr. Joshua will set up your tests and appointments. We'll get the ball rolling immediately."
"Thank you, Dr. Fredrick," Wanda said. "And Dr. Joshua."
"Is he going to be in charge of her care?" Wynter asked, bridling a little. "He's a child."
"He's the same age I am," Obi said.
"Do you know everyone?" Wynter snapped.
"I grew up here. I've got a job that takes me to the hospital a lot. Not only that, he's a member of my congregation. Just because he looks young, doesn't mean he is."
©Dellani Oakes 2023
No comments:
Post a Comment