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Saturday, May 23, 2020

Chapter One, Episode 60 - Old Friends - Situationally Theirs



July 05, 2020
Review, Edit and Update
There were one or two punctuation typos that I repaired. More importantly, I improved the settings - both in the hospital and out at the Beaufort Estate  - with a better depth of description. 

Old Friends

Non-emergent elective surgeries had stacked up. An emergency preparedness plan had been put in place at Hartley General Hospital. The province was keeping a certain percentage of beds available for the expected influx of Covid19 patients. Dr. Jeremy Crawford, a general surgeon, almost felt a sense of relief. A bit of wishful thinking that he might have some time off? However any one of the patients coming to the hospital, whether diagnosed with Covid19 or not, may require emergency surgery. He was fortunate to have general surgery as his experience, giving him a wide range of diagnostic and surgical skills. Today he was tired. Tired and afraid. Working daily, potentially at risk for contracting this novel virus, was almost more draining than the constant gowning and gloving. He had long ago accepted that this was part of being a good surgeon. When surgeries were close together, it was tiring. To see every single staff member, in and out of the operating room gowned and gloved, was frightening. Housekeeping, nursing, food services, secretaries, porters - everyone. The anxiety in the hospital had mushroomed, with new Covid19 cases arriving for care. 

~~~~~

Emmie sat on the shaded and open verandah at the front of her home. It was a bit cool but her old blue sweater, the plaid lap blankets, and a hot cup of Earl Grey tea with a good book was all she needed. She’d been very busy in the last few days. Dez had needed her advice for setting up her project; a project that had expanded from two beehives to the rejuvenation of the orchard and possibly four beehives. Now that Matt was involved, her participation could ease off. She’d also been busy communicating with the Art Board and the Housing Board she was on. The Art Board would be on hiatus until things got back to some kind of normal. Not many people were purchasing art these days. The Housing Board was much more active. Helping the city find housing for the many people experiencing  homelessness had been a mammoth job. But today was a day off from all the busyness of the past week. Emmie's interest in charity work, weakened since her husband Michael had passed, had been renewed. 
~~~~~

Jeremy arrived home from the hospital two hours later than his shift was to end. But at least today, he was home before the sun was down. Showering before leaving work, clean clothes in his locker, he put his scrubs in the hospital laundry. As soon as he walked in his kitchen, he washed his hands, lotioned them well and looked in the refrigerator. Nothing of interest. Not uncommon in this widower’s world. He still missed his wife Elaine after seven years. Her passing was sudden. None of his medical knowledge or even surgical skills could have saved her. He was her panicked and grieving husband, not a doctor. He was alone. If it hadn’t been for Mike and Emelina he didn’t know how he would have survived. They brought him out to their estate and gave him a bed for as long as he wanted it. He and Elaine had never had children. His sister had to return to her home on the other side of the country. After that week at the Beaufort Estate, when he had rested and eaten well, he returned to Hartley and buried himself in his work. Restless and hungry, he got in his car and drove, finding himself on the road out to Mike and Emelina’s. 

~~~~~

Emmie raised her teacup to her lips, her eyes still reading from her mystery story. When she heard a vehicle on the gravel drive, she looked up. A low riding silver grey vehicle approached. She closed the book, marking it’s place and stood up. As the car approached, she wondered who it could be? The car stopped in front of Emelina, gravel and dust spitting from the tires. The driver got out. “Jeremy? Is that you?”

“Emelina! Where’s Mike? Get him out here. I’m hungry and I remember Cook’s fantastic food.”

“Oh, Jeremy. Mike’s not here anymore.” Emmie stumbled on her heartache. “I mean........  Mike died…. Oh, Jeremy I’m so sorry.”

Jeremy ran up the few steps to Emelina. “No, I’m sorry Emelina. When? Why didn’t I know?”

“He got sick while you were staying with us when Elaine died. He didn’t think it was anything, but when he went to the doctor, there was nothing they could do. But we had two more good years. Where have you been!? I thought you must have moved away when you weren’t at the funeral. Jeremy, you look wonderful. A little tired, but wonderful. Come with me to the kitchen for something to eat. We’ve already eaten but there are lots of delicious leftovers. And lemon meringue pie. If I remember, that is one of your favourite desserts.”

“How I wish I could give you a hug, Emelina.” 

“I am so sorry that you didn’t know about Michael. But I am so glad you’re here!” Emelina walked Jeremy to the back of the house, took him into the kitchen. “Cook! Look who’s here.” 

“Well, Dr. Crawford, don’t you look as handsome as ever.” 

“Hello Cook. And you’re just as pretty as ever. I’m only sorry I can’t kiss your hand and waltz you around the kitchen.”

“Go on with you, Dr. Crawford. Miss Emelina must have told you about the lemon pie. Now you just sit down at the table and I’ll serve you up a plate of pork chops and mashed potatoes. You got here just in time, before I was to put them away.”

Emelina smiled as the little flirtation played out. It was good to see Jeremy. It brought memories of the four of them: Jeremy and Elaine, she and Michael; a foursome always ready to go to a play, a dance, a jazz club or just for a day trip to the beach. Emelina wiped a little tear away before anyone could see it. 

“Miss Emelina ~ are you wanting another piece of pie? That man has already eaten his supper - two big helpings! - and now wants his pie! You sit down and have some too. I’ve made a fresh pot of tea for the both of you.”

“There are no rules for friendship. It must be left to itself. 
We cannot force it any more than love.”
~ William Hazlitt

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