Love in the Time of Corona

by Elena Graf

  “Don’t you know about social distancing, Mom?”

  Lucy sighed. “Yes, I’ve been hearing a lot about it.”

  “It’s coming. Soon,” said Emily conclusively. She sat down at the kitchen table and flipped open the tab of the can of seltzer.

  “Take a glass, please, sweetheart,” said Lucy.

  Emily gave her mother a dirty look but got up to get a glass. “I thought I’d escaped the nagging when I moved out of the Cummings’ place.”

  “You wish,” said Lucy. She gave Emily’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

  “Love you, Mom,” said Emily, “but sometimes, it’s not easy.”

  “Love you too, but sometimes, it’s not easy.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Liz waited until everyone was settled before beginning the meeting. One of the new medical assistants was still in the back. Cathy Pelletier, Liz’s partner, had sent someone to get her. Meanwhile, people stepped up to help themselves to free pizza. Everyone was quiet while they ate. The usual banter during their lunch meetings was conspicuously absent. As Liz wolfed down a slice of meatlover’s pizza, knowing she wouldn’t have time to eat once the meeting began, she could sense the anxiety in the room.

  The medical assistants returned. Each took a slice of pizza and quickly found a seat.

  “Okay, people, get your food and settle down,” said Liz. “We have a lot to discuss today.”

  People hurried to grab another slice of pizza. While she waited, Liz gulped down some water. Finally, everyone was seated, and all eyes were on her.

  Liz smiled. “Thanks for giving up your lunch time to be here. Before we get into the agenda items, I’d like to hear from you how you think things are going.”

  Jim Bowden, one of the partners raised his hand. “People are asking a lot of questions about the virus. Now that they’re seeing what’s going on in Italy, they’re scared.”

  “What are we telling them?” asked Liz, glancing around the group.

  Cathy raised her hand. “I’m telling them to go to the CDC website for information. I tell them how important it is to wash their hands and not touch their faces. I emphasize that it’s the same advice we give during flu season.”

  “Good,” said Liz. “That’s about all we can say at this point. We should also ask them to call ahead if they think they have the coronavirus and not come straight to the office. I’m going to post that on the website too. Everyone good with that?”

  Heads nodded. What a great group, thought Liz.

  “I want to thank everyone for following the hygiene protocols. We may get to using exam gloves, but I’d rather wait until we know for certain it’s needed. I hate to examine a patient through gloves. The CDC isn’t recommending masks yet.”

  “Isn’t that because there’s a shortage?” asked Cherie.

  “It could be,” said Liz, trying to sound neutral, although the shortages made her furious. Everything was so politically fraught at the moment, and she knew she shouldn’t add fuel to the fire. “It’s hard to sort the hard facts from speculation. But out of an abundance of caution, starting tomorrow, I want everyone to wear masks. Don’t go hog wild, please. One mask per day. We have a limited supply. We need to make what we have last.”

  There was a chorus of groans.

  “I know. I hate it too, but this is for the patients as well as for us. Any of us could be carrying it.”

  “Won’t that scare people even more?” asked one of the medical assistants.

  “It might,” said Liz, “but it also says that we’re serious about preventing the spread of the virus.”

  “Some of the older people don’t even believe there is a virus,” Ginny, the practice manager said. “They say it’s a hoax or a political conspiracy.”

  “I guess we know what news station they watch,” said one of the medical assistants with a snicker.

  Liz shot her a disapproving look. “I don’t want to get into the politics of it, and we shouldn’t engage patients in that discussion either. I know it’s frustrating, but we need to be calm and professional.”

  “Some people won’t even listen to me when I say we need to practice careful hygiene to prevent spreading the virus,” Cathy said. “They think it’s all a joke. Meanwhile, we can’t even get test kits.”

  “Well, that’s the one bright spot. We finally got some kits.”

  “How many?”

  “Fifteen. I ordered fifty.”

  Jim rolled his eyes. “Fifteen? You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Liz. “I think we should use them to test ourselves first. We’re going to be on the front lines. There are nine of us. That leaves six kits for patients. Let’s use them wisely. I’m putting Cherie in charge of testing. She’s also in charge of PPE, which is going to be tight, so don’t give her any grief.”

  Liz gazed around the room.

  “Any questions?”

  The billing clerk raised her hand. “Can we get pineapple and ham pizza next time?”

  Everyone laughed, and that seemed a good place to end the meeting.

  While Liz bolted down another slice of pizza, Cherie approached. “It’s not good for your digestion to eat that fast.”

  Liz swallowed a mouthful. “You think you need to tell me that?”

  “No. And I’m not being a smartass.”

  “I know you’re not, Cherie, but you know how doctors are. They never follow their own advice.”

  “I wish you would follow mine.”

  Liz studied Cherie’s face and realized her advice was kindly intended. “Maybe I will. Thanks.” She bit into the pizza but chewed more carefully this time.

  “Thank you for giving me so much responsibility. I appreciate the experience.”

  “You have a good head on your shoulders. You think things through. I trust you.”

  Cherie’s green eyes widened momentarily with surprise. “Thank you, Dr. Stolz.”

  “Liz,” growled Liz. “No one here calls me Dr. Stolz.”

  “Just being respectful.” Cherie smiled, which disarmed Liz. “I’ll start swabbing this afternoon.”

  Another smile from Cherie made it hard for Liz to avoid smiling back. “Okay. Get the tests rolling and thanks for the advice.”

  Cherie walked away and Liz went back to her pizza. As she watched Cherie talking to the support staff, she thought, she’s so good with people. Great hire.

  ***

  Liz squirmed a little, sitting with the members of the vestry at the big conference table. She felt completely out of her element with all those devout church members. Well, maybe some of them weren’t that devout, and this was just a social connection for them, like the Rotary or the chamber of commerce. By comparing it to her civic clubs, Liz felt more comfortable. Community service she completely understood. The religious part, forget about it! Liz always said that phrase like the New Yorker she was, even when she only said it in her mind.

  Tom Simmons, the associate rector, opened the meeting with a prayer. Liz had known Tom since he and Erika were graduate students at Yale, and Liz was a resident in surgery. Oh, the stories Liz could tell about Tom, but while he prayed, Liz tried to look respectful. She felt Lucy studying her out of the corner of her eye. Liz winked at her. Lucy’s lips curved into a little smile, and she raised an auburn brow.

  Liz took a mental vacation while the parish business was being discussed. Lucy, sitting beside her, had to nudge her when it was her turn to join the discussion.

  “So far, the bishop has left it up to the local clergy, but I hear a rumor that a change may be coming. Dr. Stolz, do you think we should continue holding public worship services?” Lucy asked.

  Damn it, Lucy, you’re going to stick it on me! But Liz was never one to dodge a hard call. She took a deep breath and said, “No, I think you should suspend public ser
vices.”

  There was a murmur of surprise along the table. Someone said, “But the president says there’s nothing to worry about. The virus will go away soon. As soon as the weather gets warm. Like the flu.”

  Liz laughed. “I’m sorry to laugh. But that’s ridiculous. The president is not a scientist. He knows nothing about the behavior of this virus. It’s not a cold. It’s not the flu. It’s something we haven’t seen before. No one has natural immunity. That means anyone can get sick. Some people will get very sick and die. I think out of an abundance of caution, you should suspend public services.”

  An older man started to speak in an angry voice, but Lucy raised her hand to silence him.

  “We asked for Dr. Stolz’s opinion, and she gave it.”

  “Thank you, Mother Lucy,” said Liz, sliding into her authoritative persona. She’d thought she’d happily left her leadership role behind when she’d retired from Yale, but people kept asking her to step up. No matter how much she tried to take a back seat, she kept being shoved to the front of the bus to drive.

  “First of all, most of the congregation is elderly,” Liz said. “That’s just a simple fact of demographics. Maine is a gray state and frankly, most mainline churches have a larger percentage of seniors than younger people. This virus is much harder on older people. Almost everyone sitting at this table is in the high-risk group. The virus, just like colds and flu, has an incubation period where the host is asymptomatic. That means any of us could be harboring the virus and yet seem perfectly healthy. It’s fine to tell people to stay home if you don’t feel well, but by that time, it’s often too late.”

  “Are you saying that right now, we could be endangering one another?” asked Tom.

  Liz realized Tom was lending support by asking a leading question and nodded in his direction.

  “Yes, although I think at this point, the risk is relatively low. There are no confirmed cases in the state.”

  “So why close down the church?” asked the man who had quoted the president.

  “I’m not an epidemiologist, but I do know one thing. Contagious diseases can spread rapidly. It only takes a few infected people exposing a few more people for diseases to spread like wildfire. Look at it this way. Let’s say I have it. I give it to all of you. You go home to your families and businesses and give it to them. They give it to other people, at work, at school. In a large group, like a church service, the exposure is magnified. I don’t care how many precautions you take.” Liz glanced at Lucy. “Sorry to be so blunt, but this is potentially a dangerous situation. It’s real. This is not a drill.”

  “But this is exactly the time that people need reassurance and comfort,” a woman said anxiously. “You already suspended the home and hospital visits. How will people receive communion?”

  Tom said, “If someone is dying or ill, then I or Mother Lucy will do our best.”

  Lucy nodded in agreement. “In the interim, I am looking into ways to have prayer services on the internet. My wife, Professor Bultmann has shown me an interactive app that her college is using for classes. I think it can work to help us keep our community together.”

  “But some people don’t have the internet,” a man protested.

  “I know, and I’m sorry,” said Lucy, “but I’d rather keep my congregation alive. These are difficult times. We’ll all have to make accommodations.” She looked at each person around the table. “I’m going to take a vote on this matter, but I want you to know I will take final responsibility for the decision. All in favor of suspending services, please raise your hands.”

  Liz breathed a sigh of relief when the raised hands were a clear majority.

  They discussed how to let parishioners know that services were being suspended. Obviously, they could post a notice on the church sign. Everyone who passed on Route 1 would see it. Someone suggested a postcard mailing to people without internet access. The parish admin said she would send out an email blast and post the notice on Facebook.

  The meeting was concluded with a prayer for safety and good health in the crisis. The vestry members filed out, but Tom remained behind. He offered Liz an elbow bump. “You were great, as always,” he said. “Simple to follow information. Perfect.”

  “Maggie says I’m too direct.”

  “This isn’t the time to mince words,” said Tom. He nodded to Lucy. “Good decision, Lucy.” He headed out.

  “I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that,” said Lucy with a contrite look that made Liz instantly forgive her.

  Liz shrugged. “I’m used to it. When I ran the surgical department, I had to make a lot of tough calls. Some made me very unpopular.”

  “I know this is really bad to ask,” said Lucy, “but I could really use a hug.”

  Liz debated for so long that Lucy began to look sheepish for asking. “It’s not the best idea, but I showered and changed clothes before I left the office. I don’t want to drag bugs home to Maggie or the kids.” Liz pulled Lucy into a hug and held on tight.

  “Thank you for being so supportive and strong,” Lucy said, hugging back fiercely. “We’re going to need it in the coming days.”

  “Thank you for being smart and kind. We’re going to need that even more.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maggie, who’d been reading The New York Times while the kids watched cartoons, tried to hang on to them when the door from the garage opened. Liz would be tired after a full day of office hours and a church meeting. The last thing she needed was to be tackled when she walked in the door.

  Maggie found Katrina and Nicki hugging Liz’s legs. “Hello, girlies! I missed you too,” Liz said in a cheerful voice. Maggie loved her for making the effort.

  “Let me say hello to Grandma.” She leaned over Nicki to give Maggie a kiss.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean for them to accost you at the door.” She gave the girls a little tug. “Okay, you two. Back to your cartoons. Let Grandma Liz take off her coat.”

  The girls ran back to the media room. Maggie held Liz’s bag while she took off her coat.

  “You look beat,” said Maggie.

  “Too many meetings. Not used to them anymore. Seems like that’s all I did when I was at Yale. Always hated them. Such a waste of time.”

  Maggie nodded, although she knew the value of meetings to consolidate support for an idea. Liz was a “get it done” kind of person who despised politics. Sometimes, she wished Liz would use more people-sense to make her life easier.

  “Come into the kitchen, I’ll get you a drink.”

  Liz glanced in the direction of the media room.

  “Don’t worry. The kids will be all right for a few minutes. I never get any private time with you anymore.” Maggie put her arms around Liz’s waist. “I miss you.”

  Liz kissed the top of her head. “Miss you too.”

  In the kitchen, Maggie dispensed some ice into Liz’s favorite crystal glass and poured in some whiskey. “A double, please,” said Liz, watching her.

  “That bad?”

  “I ordered fifty test kits and got fifteen. That’s enough to test the staff and just six patients. At that rate, how are we supposed to know what we’re dealing with?”

  Maggie put the glass into Liz’s hand. “Have a drink, sweetheart. There’s nothing you can do about it.” Maggie bent to check her dinner baking in the oven. “Kid comfort food again,” she said, sliding the racks back into the oven. “Chicken wings and mac and cheese. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Keep making all that comfort food, and I’ll need to buy new pants.” Liz patted her belly.

  “You’re not the only one. Although the kids keep me hopping. I hardly ever sit down.”

  “Brenda told me they’re going to close the Hobbs schools tomorrow. It was decided in the selectmen’s meeting last night.”

  “I know. The head of the Eng
lish department at Hobbs High asked if I would teach some online classes. I also got a call from the community college.”

  “They could do worse than a Yale Ph.D. for that.” Liz frowned. “But can you manage it with teaching the kids?”

  “Yes, I think so. I give Katrina assignments to work on. There’s plenty of Kindle content to keep Nicki occupied for hours.”

  “You’re lucky you know how to access and use digital resources. What will other people do?”

  Maggie shook her head. She had no idea what they’d do. She feared both for the parents and the children. Now that she was a stay-at-home grandmother, she realized how much work it was to care for young children full time.

  “Where’s Alina?” asked Liz, glancing at her watch. “It’s late for her.”

  “She said she needed to pick up some equipment at the studio. Starting tomorrow, they’re letting her work from home.”

  “They must like her up there. Good for her. She’s very talented.”

  “They’re letting all employees not essential to the live studio work from home.”

  “Really?” asked Liz, looking up from sorting the day’s mail. “That’s smart. I think there’s going to be more of that soon.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  Liz threw the pile of junk mail into the recycling bin under the sink. “If Alina is going to be working here, she’ll need a place to work.”

  “How about one of the guest bedrooms?”

  “I think she’ll need more privacy.” Liz looked thoughtful. “I’d lend her my office, but I might need it soon myself.”

  “She can use my office upstairs.”

  “Are you sure? That’s your private space. There’s also the room behind the media room. It’s soundproof. It would make a great studio for video editing. It’s full of junk now, but we can clean it out.”

  “I’ll help you,” said Maggie, taking Liz by the arm. “Now, go out and sit down while I finish dinner.”

  “You just want me to check on the kids.”