by Elena Graf
Lucy shook her head and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”
Erika nodded and went back to her reading.
“How bad is it?” Lucy asked, heading into the bedroom. She closed the door for more privacy. Because Cherie was a counseling client as well as a parishioner, this call counted as double duty. Either case would require confidentiality, even from Lucy’s wife.
“His kidneys are suddenly failing. They think it could be blood clots. Everyone knew about the pulmonary symptoms. No one knew it could affect other organs.”
“What can they do for him?” asked Lucy. She slipped off her shoes and pulled herself up on the bed.
“He may need dialysis to keep him going. But even if he recovers from the virus, his lung function will be even more compromised than it was before. He may never get off the ventilator.”
“Oh, no,” said Lucy, realizing the implications.
“I’m his healthcare proxy. I’ll have to make a choice soon.”
“Is he conscious? Can you speak to him about his wishes?”
“No, he’s sedated because of the ventilator, but he’s told me before he doesn’t want to be kept alive by extraordinary means. We’ve talked about it many times.”
“What can I do to help?” asked Lucy. “I mean, apart from praying for your father?”
“I can’t go see him. Even though I’m a physician’s assistant, I have no more standing than any other family member to get into the hospital.”
Lucy realized where this was going and felt uneasy. “It’s terrible that people can’t visit their loved ones.”
“But you can, as a hospital chaplain.”
Lucy tried to think of something to say. The bishop had issued orders to reduce hospital visits to a bare minimum during the pandemic. Home visits to the sick were prohibited, even for the last rites. A beautiful message delivered by a priest-physician, who was a canon of the cathedral, explained why these strict measures were necessary, but that was small comfort to a grieving family member like Cherie.
Lucy tapped the icon to open a video chat. It was obvious that Cherie had been crying. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks, tear streaked. “Oh, Cherie. I’m so sorry,” said Lucy. “If your father is sedated, will he even know I’m there?”
“He’ll know you’re there. Please, Lucy. My father adores you. He thought you look like an angel. He said if he saw you at the pearly gates, he’d know he was in the right place.”
Lucy frowned as she digested this message. So often she disregarded her own physical beauty, knowing it to be an accident of genetics, like having red hair or green eyes, yet so many people told her how it inspired them in good, positive ways to turn their thoughts to spiritual matters. They often said the same about her singing voice. She tried hard to be a good priest, to write sermons that moved people to think and to turn their hearts to God, and yet it sometimes seemed her natural gifts were all she needed.
“I can’t be there,” said Cherie, “but he’ll know you’re there. If yours is the voice he hears, he’ll know it’s all right to go home and be with Mama.” Her voice broke on the last words, which brought tears to Lucy’s eyes. “Honestly, Mother Lucy, if yours was the last voice I ever heard, I would think I had already gone to heaven.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, Cherie, but I need to think about this. Yes, I am allowed to visit the hospital as a chaplain. Obviously, I risk bringing the virus into the hospital or bringing it back here to my family and friends. Fortunately, we have few parishioners from St. Margaret’s in the hospital, so yours is the first request to visit.”
“Please, Lucy, you’re my father’s priest and he needs you now. You’re my priest, and I need you now.”
Cherie’s pleas were pulling on her heartstrings, and yet there were many people who couldn’t visit a family member because of the virus. Cherie was one of thousands of grieving people who couldn’t hold a dying loved one’s hand in their last hours.
“Let me talk to Dr. Stolz and get her advice on this,” said Lucy. “I’ll call you back in a little while.”
“All right,” said Cherie, “And thank you.”
When Lucy returned to the sitting room, Erika glanced up from her reading. “You look perplexed. What’s the matter?”
Lucy sighed deeply. “Cherie Bois’s father isn’t doing well. She’s asked me to pray with him at his bedside. He’s in Southern Med.”
The expression in Erika’s pale eyes suddenly changed from curiosity to frank concern.
“I don’t know if I like this idea. Will you go?”
“I think I should. I want to talk to Liz about it.”
“That’s wise,” said Erika. “Let me know what she says.”
Lucy crossed the bridge from the apartment to the main house. She never took the elevator, although she always glanced at it because it seemed so out of place in a private home. She knew the rationale. Liz had designed the house with all the amenities so that she could age in place. Her bedroom was on the third floor. If she became infirmed, she needed a means to get there.
The door to Liz’s office was open when Lucy got there. She could hear Liz saying, “Is CVS still your pharmacy?” Lucy realized Liz was on a Telehealth call, so she retreated to the hall to give her privacy.
After a moment, Liz came out to look for her. “Hey, Lucy. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had office hours.”
“Neither did I, but Cathy needed to talk to her daughter’s teacher, so she asked me to cover for her for an hour. Fortunately, that call was an easy one. Any woman who’s had a UTI can diagnose it herself.” Liz gave her a brief, questioning look. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Come in,” said Liz and closed the door behind them. “Sit down.” She gestured toward the chair by her desk.
“I hope you were able to help that woman,” said Lucy, taking a seat. “Remember when I had that awful bladder infection after my honeymoon? I was so uncomfortable, and the blood scared me half to death.”
“Unfortunately, UTI are common when women are having lots of sex,” said Liz with a slightly lewd tilt of her brow.
“You were so kind to bring me antibiotics even though it was the middle of the night.”
“You know I’d do anything for you, Lucy,” said Liz. Her blue eyes were almost as compelling as Erika’s. She was a natural mesmerist. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Liz’s gaze became so intense, Lucy had to look away.
“Lucy, I have a confession to make.”
Oh, no, thought Lucy, what is she going to say? “Are you confessing to me as your friend or as a priest?”
Liz chuckled softly. “I’m not asking for absolution, but what I’m going to tell you is considered a sin.” She took a deep breath. “Sometimes, I lust for you in my heart.”
Using those words, once used to pillory a president, was obviously an attempt at humor, but Lucy could see Liz wasn’t joking. She was completely serious. Lucy’s mind raced, trying to think of something to say. She could admit to the same thing, because it was true. She found Liz’s strength and boyish charm very attractive. Her body reacted when Liz gave her one of her long, soulful hugs. Lucy knew it was sexual arousal but admitting her feelings would only mislead Liz.
“I love you too, Liz, but I know you would never betray your wife or your best friend, and neither would I.”
Liz patted Lucy’s hand. “I knew you’d say that, but thanks for reminding me to keep my head screwed on straight. Around you that’s hard sometimes.”
“I know what you mean,” Lucy finally admitted.
Liz gazed at her with a thoughtful look. Finally, she said, “Thank you for letting me get that off my chest.”
“Do you want absolution? I can give it to you.”
“Hell, no.” Liz’s sardonic grin indicated the serious moment had passed. “Sorry for the detour. You came to talk about something. What was it?”
Lucy was relieved that Liz could so easily make the transition from one conversation to another. The heavy feeling was instantly dispelled. Unfortunately, it would now be replaced by something equally weighty.
“Cherie’s father isn’t doing well. His kidneys are failing.”
Liz nodded gravely and took a deep breath. “I’ve been reading in the medical bulletins about how other organs can be affected. Fucking hell! There’s so much about this damn virus we don’t know.” She looked instantly sheepish. “Sorry about the profanity.”
Lucy ignored both the profanity and the apology. “Cherie wants me to go to the hospital to give her father the last rites.”
“Well, that’s a stupid idea,” said Liz bluntly.
Lucy made a concerted effort to sound patient. “Liz, you are a great doctor, but sometimes, you forget to think about the people side of things. Cherie is distraught because she can’t see her father. He may die, and she will never see him again.”
“So, she wants to send you and expose you to danger instead,” said Liz in an irritated voice. “What a great idea!”
“Aren’t they careful in the hospital? Won’t they give me protective clothing?”
“Yes, but they don’t have enough for themselves. Going there is not only stupid, it’s selfish!”
“Okay, thanks for your opinion, but I think it’s insensitive and unkind.” Lucy got up to leave.
“Will you go to the hospital?”
“Yes, I will.”
Scowling, Liz got up. “Fucking stubborn woman! Why do I live in a house full of fucking stubborn women?” Liz was making such faces Lucy wanted to laugh, but she knew that would only insult her. She patted Liz’s arm in an attempt to calm her. Liz stared at her with pursed lips and a frown. Finally, she said, “All right, Lucy. I’ll go with you to make sure you suit up right.”
Lucy’s mouth opened in surprise. “You will?”
“Yes. Give me a few minutes to see if any more calls come through before Cathy comes back online. Then we’ll go together. I’ll stop in the office and grab some PPE for both of us. I want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Lucy was moved. “Thank you,” she murmured. “You’re my Lohengrin. My very own swan knight. How can I thank you?”
“Well, you just said it. You can sing Elsa’s aria on our next talent night. Promise?”
“Promise,” said Lucy and stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss on Liz’s cheek. “And your little secret is safe with me.”
Liz studied her face for a long moment. “I expected as much, or I wouldn’t have told you.” Liz got up and went back to her desk. “Bring clothes and some towels so you can shower in the office on the way home. You don’t want to bring the virus home with you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
While they headed to the office of Hobbs Family Practice, Liz took in the sights along the way. The town was pretty much dead at this time of year, but there was abnormally little traffic on Route 1. The parking lots of the hotels and restaurants were completely empty. Only the supermarket and pharmacy had cars parked outside.
“It’s like one of those bad 1950s apocalypse movies,” Liz said, speaking her thoughts aloud. “You know, how the world looks after an atomic war….minus the destruction, of course.”
“Are you always so pessimistic?”
“I’m not pessimistic, just observant.”
“It’s a good thing I know you, Liz. I know your grumpiness is all for show. Underneath, you’re one of the kindest, gentlest, most loving women I’ve ever met.” Lucy glanced at the big diamond ring on her finger. It had once belonged to Liz’s grandmother, but Liz had given it to Erika so that she could propose to Lucy. “Do you ever regret giving away your grandmother’s ring for me?”
“No. Never,” said Liz. “And don’t spread it around that I’m not mean and grumpy.”
“I don’t have to.” Lucy gazed out the window. “Everyone already knows.”
As Liz flew into the parking area of Hobbs Family Practice, she could see Lucy gripping the grab bar over the passenger side window. Evidently, Lucy didn’t like the way Liz drove any more than Maggie did.
“Wait here,” said Liz, yanking up the parking brake.
Once inside, she headed straight to the supply closet and found gowns, masks, gloves and goggles. She was about to head out when she thought about their stash of PPE. It wouldn’t be needed for the period the office was closed. They could afford to share with the ICU personnel at Southern Med. She found a nearly empty box and started filling it with masks. She grabbed a few bottles of hand sanitizer and stuffed them into her jacket pocket.
“That was fast,” said Lucy when Liz opened the back door to put the box on the seat. “What’s in the box?”
“Our PPE and extras for our friends at Southern Med.”
Lucy looked at her. “See what I mean?”
“See what you mean what?” asked Liz, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“It’s all a façade. Underneath, you’re a marshmallow.”
“I tell you, Lucy, if you try to blackmail me with this, I’ll...”
Lucy laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll save the blackmail for a special favor.”
“Lucy, you’re shameless.”
When they arrived at Southern Med, the doctors’ parking lot was nearly empty. “Wow, I’ve never seen it like this,” said Liz, swinging into a spot. “I heard they had to furlough people because all elective procedures are cancelled. That’s a hell of a lot of lost revenue. This place must be really hurting financially.”
Lucy stared at the building. “I would never have thought of that.”
“This place can survive, but a lot of the rural hospitals will go under because of this.” Liz took off her jacket and threw it into the back seat. “You should do the same. The less clothing exposed to the virus, the better. Good thing it’s not too cold today.
Lucy got out of the car and took off her coat. Clad in only her clerical blouse and a black pants suit, she hugged herself against the brisk wind coming off the ocean.
“Heads up.” Liz tossed her a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Lucy fumbled but caught it, which for some reason pleased Liz. “You’ll need that. Keep it close.” Lucy slipped the bottle into her suit pocket.
Liz took out the box of PPE and carried it under her arm as they headed to the entrance of the hospital. They hurried to get out of the wind. Lucy’s cheeks were pink. Even Liz, who usually didn’t mind the cold, was trembling by the time they got inside. She pulled out her hand sanitizer in the lobby. “Assume that everything you touch, including door handles, could harbor the virus.”
“This is crazy,” said Lucy.
“I know, but you’re the one who wanted to come here.”
She led Lucy to the elevator and pressed the button for the ICU. Once they arrived at the floor, Liz whipped out her hand sanitizer and nodded to Lucy to do the same.
In the visitor’s lounge, Liz helped Lucy dress, carefully bending the metal strip around her nose to seal the air flow. She showed her how to get her long hair into the cap and tied the strings of the sterile gown. She handed her safety goggles and held the gloves while Lucy put her hands into them.
“So, this is how you look as a surgeon,” said Lucy after Liz finished dressing.
“More or less. Usually, I’d be wearing scrubs and washable clogs.”
On the way to Jean-Paul’s room, Liz dropped off the box of supplies at the nurses’ station. The duty nurse approached.
“Hello? Can I help you?”
“Liz Stolz. Hobbs Family Practice. I thought you might be able to use these.”
The nurse looked in the box, and
her eyes lit up. “These are the good ones! Yes, we certainly can use them. Thank you, Dr. Stolz!”
“Is Jean-Paul Bois still in bay fourteen?”
“Yes.”
“How’s he doing?”
The woman shook her head. “Are you his primary?”
“No, one of my partners, but we’re all covering for each other during this. I have surgical privileges here.”
The nurse handed Liz a tablet so she could read the notes.
“Thanks,” said Liz, handing it back after giving it a quick scan. “This is Reverend Bartlett from St. Margaret’s.” She gestured with her thumb over her shoulder toward Lucy. “She’s here as Mr. Bois’s priest.”
“You’ll see I’m a registered chaplain,” Lucy quickly added.
“You’re with Dr. Stolz. You’re fine,” said the nurse, wagging her head in the direction of Jean-Paul’s bay.
“See?” said Liz as they headed down the hall, “You needed me.”
“I do need you.”
Liz didn’t quite know how to interpret that remark, so she let it go.
“Our bishop will only allow us to give last rites to patients in the hospital under controlled conditions,” said Lucy. “If Mr. Bois were at home, this wouldn’t be possible.”
“It’s still a risk,” said Liz, unable to resist the urge to underscore the point. “He’s sedated. He won’t be able to respond. He won’t even know you’re there. Can you still give the last rites?”
“I won’t be able to give him communion, but studies suggest that people can hear, even in a coma.”
“Whatever,” said Liz in a disparaging voice.
Lucy stopped and turned to her. “Whatever you or I believe, it’s a comfort to the family to know the soul has been prepared to meet God. That’s why we’re here.”
Liz had never heard Lucy scold her so adamantly.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.”
They found the correct bay. Liz approached Jean-Paul’s bed and gave him a quick assessment. It won’t be long, she decided and stepped aside to let Lucy do her priest thing. She was tempted to zone out and ignore all the religious mumbo jumbo when she realized that Cherie would probably like to see this. After all, she was putting Lucy’s health in jeopardy for it. Liz pulled out her phone and pulled off her gloves so she could tap Cherie’s number. “Hold on, Lucy,” said Liz. “Let’s Facetime this with Cherie. Okay?”
