An Engagement for Two

by Marie Ferrarella

  “That really wasn’t necessary,” she told him, aware that he had to be exhausted. He probably wasn’t accustomed to running on empty the way she was. “If I had anything to tell you regarding your mother’s condition or her operation, I’d call you.”

  Jeff nodded. “I know that, but I just thought that my being here was more personal—since you were going the extra mile the way you did this morning,” he reminded her. “Besides, in my present state of preoccupation, if I went into work, I might wind up poisoning one of my patrons.”

  “I guess that wouldn’t exactly be a selling feature for your restaurant.” Without realizing it, she caught herself laughing.

  Jeff nodded. “See? You agree. Everybody’s better off with me here.” An ironic smile curved his lips. “This is my first day off in five years.”

  Another workaholic, like her, Mikki thought. She glanced over toward her patient, who was sleeping soundly. “Well, then I’m glad it ended well,” she told him.

  “Yeah, me too,” he replied with genuine sincerity.

  Jeff was looking at her, rather than his mother, as he said it.

  Chapter Seven

  Jeff nodded toward his mother. “Do you really think she’s going to sleep through the night?” he asked Mikki.

  “I’d count on it,” Mikki told him. “Feel free to make the most of what’s left of your first day off in five years,” she encouraged, smiling.

  He looked back at his mother. “I feel like I’m too drained to do anything but go to bed and sleep myself,” he confessed.

  Mikki laughed. “I hear that,” she agreed. She felt exactly the same way. It had been a tough day for both of them.

  Just then, her stomach rumbled loudly, embarrassing her.

  It was impossible to ignore, so she owned up to it. “Sorry,” Mikki murmured, flushing. “It likes to complain.”

  “Have you had dinner yet?” he asked her.

  “Dinner?” Mikki echoed with a laugh. “I haven’t had lunch yet.”

  When she went nonstop the way she had today, eating was not only pushed to the back burner, it didn’t really register with her at all. Not until she realized just how hungry she really was.

  “Hey, my restaurant’s not too far from here,” he told Mikki. “The least I can do is feed you.” Jeff felt responsible for her hunger, cornering her the way he had early this morning, and he wanted to make amends.

  But Mikki shook her head. “Thank you, but I like to be conscious when I’m eating so I can enjoy the food, and right now, I’m really tired,” she emphasized. “I need to get myself home before I wind up falling asleep behind the wheel.”

  What she said raised another concern for him. “If you’re that tired, I could drive you home,” he offered. Then, thinking that she might feel he was coming on too strong, Jeff amended his offer. “Or I could pay for a cab to take you home. I don’t want anything happening to you on my conscience.”

  Mikki waved away his offer as well as his guilt. “There’s really no need, thank you. And just so you know,” she added with a smile, “I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. I can get home from here in my sleep—but I promise I’ll stay awake for the trip,” she added, amused. “Now go enjoy the rest of your day off, Mr. Sabatino.”

  “I’m trying to,” he answered, looking at her pointedly.

  But because he didn’t want to make the doctor nervous, he made no further offer, allowing Mikki to leave first.

  She’d just reached the room’s threshold when she remembered. Pausing to look over her shoulder at Jeff, she said, “By the way, thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful, but you really didn’t have to go out of your way like that.”

  Oh, good, he thought, she’d gotten them. He was beginning to think they hadn’t been delivered when she hadn’t said anything.

  “Neither did you,” he countered.

  She knew that arguing the point with him was only going to be a waste of time, so instead Mikki inclined her head and murmured, “Touché,” just before she left the room.

  * * *

  Mikki could feel herself smiling during the short trip to her house.

  Because she wanted to be able to get to the hospital as quickly as possible whenever she was needed, Mikki had deliberately purchased a house in a development close to Bedford Memorial.

  Consequently, she really could drive home in her sleep the way she’d joked, although she had never attempted to put that to any sort of a test—and never would.

  Twelve minutes after she had left Sophia Sabatino’s room—and the woman’s handsome son standing in it—she was crossing the threshold to her tastefully decorated, modest little two-story house.

  That was when she remembered that she had left the vase with its plump pink roses back in her office. The roses would have looked nice on her coffee table. But then, she told herself, seeing them gave her something to look forward to when she went in tomorrow morning.

  Not that she didn’t look forward to seeing her patients, she quickly amended as she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She really did like interacting with the people who sought her out, hoping that she could fix what was wrong with them.

  That was the wording her very first patient had used when the woman had come to see her. The woman had asked her to “fix what’s wrong with me.” Mikki recalled the phrase often and fondly.

  As a doctor, she liked to think of herself in that capacity, as a person who fixed people. That was her real purpose in life.

  She might have been oversimplifying it—or maybe even elevating it—but she knew that at least for now, that was how Jeff Sabatino viewed what she’d done. She’d fixed his mother.

  Reaching her bedroom, Mikki stepped out of her shoes, quickly shed her clothes and threw on a short, well-worn nightgown.

  Before going to bed, she usually undertook a nightly ritual which involved brushing her hair and her teeth and moisturizing everything that she didn’t want to become wrinkled over time. But tonight, she really did feel too exhausted to lift a brush or patiently slather cream on various parts of her body.

  She got as far as sitting down on her bed, contemplating just what she could actually do before she totally ran out of steam. That was when she realized that her eyes had shut and she’d slumped over onto the bed. With effort, she tried to give herself a pep talk to sit up and at least get into bed properly.

  But all she managed to do was to pull her pillow farther under her head.

  She didn’t remember anything else.

  Not until she felt her watch rhythmically pulsing against her wrist.

  Never one for trinkets and toys, much less jewelry, Mikki had indulged herself in getting a watch that could be linked up with her smartphone. That way she’d never miss a call because she was unsuccessfully hunting for her phone, something she had a habit of misplacing more often than she cared to admit.

  Because she hated being late for anything, Mikki had her watch set to go off in the morning, waking her well in time to get ready for work.

  Blinking now, she focused in on her watch. As her brain cleared, she noticed that she had slept straight through the night, something that was highly unusual for her.

  “I guess I really was tired,” Mikki murmured to herself as she got up and hurried into the bathroom to take one of her six-minute showers.

  It was something she’d perfected during her internship after graduating medical school. She didn’t feel human until she had her morning shower, but time was so precious, she’d endeavored to take shorter and shorter showers until she’d learned how to do everything she needed to, including washing her hair, in six minutes flat.

  Mikki could get dressed even faster, putting on only a smattering of makeup before going downstairs.

  Reaching the kitchen, she remembered that she had yet to go to the supermarket to replenish her
empty pantry or her refrigerator. Currently, there wasn’t anything in either one that could be used in preparing the simplest of meals.

  Mikki sighed.

  Ordinarily she didn’t frequent fast-food places or drive-throughs, but necessity was what caused a great many things to happen. At the very least, she needed coffee, and if she was stopping for that, she might as well get it from a place that offered something that could pass for breakfast on the run for those who were starving. And she was.

  As Mikki got behind the wheel of her car, she thought of the offer Jeff Sabatino had made to her last night. Too bad the man’s restaurant didn’t open early for walk-ins, she silently lamented. She might have taken him up on his offer this morning. However, she’d heard that his was strictly an establishment that required reservations, so its not being open early was a moot point.

  For the most part, she wasn’t a reservations type of person. She was more of a spur-of-the-moment type, because she never knew when she’d actually have a moment to spare for anything beyond just seeing her patients.

  So, resigned, Mikki forced herself to pull up to the first fast-breakfast place she passed on her way to Bedford Memorial. It was either that or putting up with hunger pangs.

  Rather than idling in the drive-through line, spewing exhaust fumes as she waited to pay for a meal she really wasn’t looking forward to consuming, Mikki parked her car as close to the front entrance as she could, then hurried into the establishment.

  The line inside to order was far shorter than what was snaking its way around the building outside. Placing her order, she took the empty paper container that the sleepy-eyed teenager behind the counter handed her and went to get her coffee.

  She’d just finished filling the container and securing the lid when she heard the teenager call out her number.

  Efficiency always made her smile, and she smiled at the barely-out-of-high-school teen who handed her the bagged breakfast she’d ordered.

  Mikki glanced at her watch as she went out through the establishment’s swinging doors. It had taken less than five minutes from the time she’d ordered to the time her meal was ready. Pretty good. She hoped she could say the same thing about the meal itself.

  Beggars can’t be choosers, Mikki reminded herself, starting up her car again. And while she hadn’t begged for the meal but paid for it, she felt that the saying still applied in this case.

  At least the aroma that began to fill her vehicle was promising.

  Pulling into her reserved spot at the hospital, Mikki was tempted to take a few minutes to eat her breakfast before going up to see Mrs. Sabatino.

  But she had long ago schooled herself to put responsibility ahead of any personal gratification, and that included having a meal. So breakfast would have to wait until she looked in on Mrs. Sabatino.

  Barring some sort of unforeseen emergency, her visit wouldn’t take long, Mikki promised herself.

  Crossing her fingers, Mikki got on the elevator and pressed six.

  As always, she stopped at the nurses’ station first.

  “How’s my patient?” she asked the woman seated at the desk. When the older woman eyed her blankly, Mikki gave the woman the particulars. “Sophia Sabatino, room 616. She was operated on yesterday morning.”

  “Oh, right, that one,” the nurse said as if a light had suddenly gone on in her head. She checked notations on the computer before saying, “She woke up a few times during the night, according to the chart entries. Sara said she kept asking if she was dead.”

  As Mikki recalled, Sara was the night-shift nurse for this part of the floor.

  When the nurse paused, Mikki nodded. “That’s the one. Are Mrs. Sabatino’s vitals steady?”

  The nurse laughed. She didn’t even have to check the numbers before she spoke. “Hell, we should all have vitals like that one. Except for her operation, from all indications that woman’s as healthy as a horse.”

  “Sounds good,” Mikki commented.

  Although she was always prepared for them, she didn’t really care for surprises. She preferred seeing nice, steady numbers that neither rose nor fell.

  Thanking the nurse, Mikki made her way to her patient’s room.

  Because she had a feeling that the woman preferred ceremony, Mikki knocked lightly on the door frame before walking into Sophia Sabatino’s room.

  “How are you feeling today, Mrs. Sabatino?” Mikki asked the woman, trying to sound as cheerful as possible despite the frown she saw on the woman’s lips.

  Sophia groaned dramatically before answering. “Like I died.”

  Mikki had a feeling that she could easily be sucked into a whirlpool if she attempted to reason the woman out of the dramatic assessment.

  Instead, she said, “Well, I’m happy to say that you didn’t.” She gave the woman a bright, heartening smile. “And we’d like to keep you that way.”

  “I was right, wasn’t I?” Sophia challenged, her surprisingly dark eyebrows drawing together over the bridge of her nose.

  “Right about what?” Mikki asked.

  “That I don’t have an appendix,” Sophia answered a little impatiently.

  “Not anymore, you don’t,” Mikki replied, choosing her words tactfully. She didn’t want to get into any sort of a debate as to why Sophia’s mother might have lied to a six-year-old about having her appendix removed. “I removed it during your surgery.”

  “So it was appendicitis?” Sophia asked, her face scrunching up in confusion and disbelief.

  “Not exactly,” she said, realizing that the woman had probably forgotten what she’d explained to her just prior to the surgery. “You had a sizable tumor that was pressing against your appendix. The tumor had actually wrapped itself around your appendix and one of your ovaries. We had to take that out, as well.”

  “My ovary?” To Mikki’s surprise, the woman chuckled to herself. “Well, I certainly haven’t had any need for that for a long time,” Sophia confided. And then she looked up at her surgeon. “And that’s it?” she asked, amazed. “That’s all you found?”

  “Most people would say that was quite enough,” Mikki assured her. “It everything continues going the way it has, you should be feeling better very soon.”

  “I’m feeling better now,” Sophia told her, contradicting the doctor’s assessment.

  Mikki smiled. “That’s probably because you’re still on pain medication.”

  Sophia looked at her, horrified. “You mean I’m getting drugs?”

  “It’s standard procedure, Mrs. Sabatino.” She could almost see the wheels in the woman’s head turning, and it wasn’t hard to guess what she was thinking. “Don’t worry, you won’t get hooked on them. You’re being given just enough for your weight and height to take the edge off your pain, nothing more.”

  “Well, I certainly hope not,” Sophia said primly, smoothing out the covers on either side of her.

  “Give the doctor a break, Mom. The woman undoubtedly saved your life.”

  Sophia’s entire countenance changed as she looked over toward the doorway and saw her son walking in. She seemed to light up.

  Her warm smile lasted for a moment, then faded a little as she looked behind him. She pretended to sniff. “Where are the others?”

  “They’ll be here, Mom,” Jeff said patiently, obviously accustomed to his mother’s abrupt shifts. “Their hours aren’t as flexible as mine are.” And then, his smile widening, he glanced toward the doctor. “Good morning, Dr. McKenna. I thought I’d find you here.” Recalling their conversation from last night, he asked, “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

  “No, not yet,” she admitted. She saw that he was about to say something, most likely about her unintentional starvation diet, and she quickly added, “But soon. Soon,” she repeated for emphasis. “I’m going to have breakfast as soon as I finish making my rounds and leave the hospit
al,” she said pointedly, looking at her patient.

  Chapter Eight

  “Well, my offer still stands,” Jeff told her the next moment. “Any time you’d like to drop by my restaurant to take me up on that dinner—or lunch—just give me a call and I’ll make sure there’s a table reserved for you.”

  “He really does cook well,” Sophia chimed in, her voice still a little reedy. The woman’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at Mikki. “I taught him everything I know,” she added with more than a little pride.

  Jeff smiled, humoring his mother. He refrained from contradicting her, because the truth of it was, his mother had taught him everything she knew. The problem was, his mother’s culinary abilities could be judged to be utterly unremarkable and very basic at best.

  Sophia Sabatino had taught him how to find his way around a kitchen because, as a widowed mother, on occasion she’d had to leave him in charge. More than a few times she’d been forced to work late or to cover for someone at the social services office. It had been left up to Jeff to feed his siblings something that went beyond junk food.

  As with everything else he undertook in his life, Jeff went the extra mile. He didn’t just make sure his siblings did their homework, he quizzed them to make sure the lessons they read sank in.

  And he didn’t just throw together whatever he found in the refrigerator and call it dinner—he would painstakingly hunt for recipes that would turn what he had to work with into something enjoyable to eat. He started out by following recipes he found on the backs of boxes of rice and spaghetti, then very soon he began to augment them, creating recipes of his own.

  It wasn’t long before he’d started making dinners for his mother. From there, he became a short-order cook at a local restaurant in order to earn some extra spending money. Working for Theresa’s catering company had been a natural step for him to take. There he’d learned a great deal, which eventually led to him opening up his own place.

  “You must be very proud of him,” Mikki told Jeff’s mother.

  Looking at her now, Mikki was willing to bet that Sophia was prouder of her son than her mother ever was of her. She couldn’t remember a single instance when Veronica had displayed anything that even resembled pride. Her mother hadn’t attended her medical school graduation because it would have meant rescheduling a cruise with husband number three.