High October

by Elena Graf

  The microwave pinged and Liz divided the soup into two oversized mugs shaped like giant coffee cups. She microwaved each until the soup was boiling hot. By then the rolls were done. She put everything on a tray and headed to the elevator.

  Maggie had been crying while Liz had been gone. That was obvious from her reddened eyes and the mountain of used tissues on the floor by the night stand.

  “Eat something,” urged Liz. “You’ll feel better.” She set the tray on the little table by the window and opened the drapes. Maggie got up and came to the table. “I often eat here when I’m alone,” Liz explained. “Seeing the ocean calms me, especially after a hard day.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Maggie managed a little smile.

  “After we eat, I’ll bring your bags up.”

  Maggie gave her a questioning look.

  “I assumed you’d want to move up here…now, that we’re lovers.”

  “I’m honored to be admitted to the master suite.”

  The weak attempt at humor heartened Liz. “But if you want your own room, you can stay where you are.”

  “Of course, I want to sleep with you, Liz. I need to be near you, especially now.” Maggie dipped her spoon into the soup. It was still steaming, so she sipped it gingerly. The vapor fogged her glasses and she took them off. “I’m ravenous now that I can smell how good your soup is.”

  They ate in silence, hungry despite or perhaps because of the emotional episode. The conversation had been draining, and it had been hours since their lunch on the road. The thick soup was nearly a stew, filled with chunks of beef, vegetables, mushrooms and barley. It was hearty and satisfying.

  “Have I ever told you you’re a great cook, Liz?”

  “Yes, but thank you. It’s always nice to hear compliments.”

  “I like that we cook together. We nourish and nurture one another.”

  Liz’s spoon stopped on the way to her mouth as she paused to consider what Maggie had said. “I like that too.”

  “Will I have my treatments here?” The change of subject revealed what Maggie really had on her mind.

  Liz put down her spoon, debating whether to continue the conversation about the lump, especially while they were eating. She decided that Maggie was unlikely to let it go until all her questions were answered. “We can do the diagnostic tests here. If you need treatment, I’d like to take you to Yale, where the surgeons and oncologists are first rate. We could also go to Dana-Farber or Sloan-Kettering, if you’d rather go back to New York.”

  “Whatever you think is best, Liz. I trust your judgment.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t want you agreeing with me because of our relationship.”

  “Is that what you think?” Maggie gave her a hard look. “You are the smartest person I know. Sophia has been filling me in about your career. I even have your book, and now, I suppose I’ll have to finish reading it.”

  “You have my book? I could have given you a copy. I have a whole carton of them in the storage space.”

  “Never mind. I didn’t want you to know I was reading up on you. The irony of it. You, considered the best in the field, are suddenly my doctor.”

  “There are greater lights in my field…Susan Love, Kristi Funk…”

  “Don’t be modest, Liz. Remember. I know you.”

  “Do you want more soup? There’s plenty more in the freezer.”

  “And don’t change the subject.”

  Chapter 19

  Maggie awoke disoriented and had to remind herself that she was in Liz’s bedroom on the third floor. At first, she didn’t realize she was alone because the king-size bed was so enormous. She reached out to touch where her lover’s body had lain during the night to confirm that she was really gone. She so wished Liz hadn’t chosen today of all days to slip away unannounced.

  Maybe Liz thought it was kind to let her sleep. During the night Maggie had awakened many times seeking comfort. Although Liz was obviously exhausted from the long drive and the emotional conversations, she awoke instantly. Without protest, she held Maggie and murmured soothing words: “It will all be all right…Don’t worry…I’m here for you.” Maggie remembered the sweetness of their lovemaking, tender and sensitive beyond imagination.

  Maggie slipped on the flannel shirt Liz had given her during the night when she’d complained of being cold. She found a pair of Liz’s workout pants hanging on the back of the closet door. The legs were too long, so she rolled them up. She decided to take the elevator because she was groggy from lack of sleep and didn’t trust herself on the stairs.

  Liz was in the kitchen, talking on her phone. She nodded to Maggie but turned around as she headed out to the porch to continue her conversation. Maggie’s eyes followed Liz as she walked away because she looked so different this morning. She was wearing a tailored suit with a skirt, heeled pumps, jewelry, even makeup. The word that instantly came to mind was “professional.” Maggie wondered why Liz was so dressed up. She never had office hours at Seacoast Women’s Health on Mondays.

  Maggie mimed apprehension when Liz returned to the kitchen. “And who are you?”

  Liz deadpanned. “You don’t recognize the woman who made love to you last night?”

  “Of course, I do,” said Maggie, accepting a kiss. Liz sat down beside her. Maggie patted her knee and let her hand find its way under the skirt. “I like it when you wear skirts. You should wear them more often.” Liz’s disapproving look was intimidating, so Maggie withdrew her hand. Clearly, Liz was all business this morning.

  “I set up an appointment for a mammogram at 10:30. Alyson Gagnon will meet us there to read the films.” Liz waved dismissively. “Images, I should say. Everything is digital now. You can always tell the old timers. We still call them films.”

  Maggie felt a little rush of anxiety. The pleasant sensations of the night’s lovemaking and the comfort of sleeping in Liz’s arms had almost blotted out the memory of the previous day’s dreadful revelations. Now they crashed back into her mind like an angry wave.

  “That was the ambulatory surgery clerk I was speaking to. I reserved a room for a needle biopsy.”

  Maggie found it hard to swallow the coffee in her mouth. Finally, she got it down. “Today?”

  Liz’s reached for Maggie’s hand. “I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.”

  Yes, she wanted to know, but then the lump would be named, assigned to a category. Its identity would become a fact instead of a possibility. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

  “Are you doing the biopsy?” Maggie asked in a small, hopeful voice.

  “If that’s all right with you. Otherwise, one of the other surgeons at Seacoast Women’s Health can do it, but not today. We’d have to schedule it.”

  “No, I want you to do it. No one else.”

  Liz nodded and began to describe the procedure until Maggie asked her to stop. She’d already read about it in Liz’s book. The thought of her lover sticking a needle into her breast was unnerving. Just a few hours before, she had tenderly kissed and caressed that breast. How could she separate herself from her feelings like that?

  “Will you still love me if I lose a breast?” asked Maggie. Her voice was shakier than she’d expected.

  Liz’s eyes widened a little, but otherwise, it was impossible to know what she was thinking because she was wearing her doctor mask. “We seldom do full mastectomies if we can possibly conserve the breast, usually only if the tumor is very large in relation to the breast or the patient insists.”

  “Why would a patient insist?” Maggie asked. It made no sense.

  “Fear mostly. Or she doesn’t want to do radiation. We always recommend radiation after a lumpectomy.”

  “I read that in your book.”

  Liz arched a brow. “Then how did you miss the part about conserving the breast?”

  “I
didn’t. But when I think of breast cancer, I think of my mother. She lost both breasts and the chest muscles and some of the muscles in her arms. It was a horrible, ugly mess.” She closed her eyes tightly as if she could banish the terrible memory of her mother’s ravaged chest from her mind.

  Liz mocked a shudder. “Unfortunately, I remember those days. We were unnecessarily brutal until we knew better.” Liz put her arm around Maggie’s shoulders and gave her a little hug. “Don’t worry. It’s different now,” Liz said in that calm, reassuring voice she used when she was explaining something medical. “Finish your coffee. I’m going to give you some light anesthesia for the biopsy. You shouldn’t eat anything until afterwards. If you’re up for it, I’ll take you out to lunch in Portsmouth.”

  “But can I have another cup of coffee?”

  “That’s fine, but no solid food, and take it easy on the cream.” Liz glanced at her watch.

  “Yes, I know. I need to pay attention to the time. Just let me have another cup of coffee.”

  Maggie showered downstairs and made some effort with her appearance. She always liked to make a first good impression, and she’d be meeting Liz’s colleagues today and wanted them to like her. Intellectually, she knew it was ridiculous, but that’s how she’d been raised—to please people in order to be treated well in return.

  As Liz drove to the hospital, Maggie had trouble finding a good topic of conversation, although something remote from their purpose would have made the drive less somber.

  “The radiologist and I had a thing for about a year” said Liz out of the blue. She said it so casually, as if she were talking about her favorite restaurant in town. “I’m telling you in the interest of full disclosure.”

  The thought made Maggie uneasy. “Another ex?”

  “We weren’t really that serious for her to be an ex. Although evidently, Alyson thought so.”

  “She’ll be reading my mammogram. Isn’t that a little…odd?”

  “She’s the best breast radiologist I know. She’ll also be helping with the ultrasound during the needle aspiration.”

  “So, I’ll get to meet her.”

  “I hadn’t planned on a formal introduction, but I’ll ask her to come down during the imaging. Most women never meet the radiologists who read their mammograms. Medicine has become so disjointed and compartmentalized. I absolutely hate it.”

  “But you stay.”

  Liz sighed. “Yes, I stay, and it’s not for the money. I probably shouldn’t say this, but I have more money than I can ever spend in this lifetime.”

  “Why shouldn’t you say it?”

  “In case you’re only interested in me for my money.” Liz briefly glanced at her. Her tone was light and playful, but for a split second, Maggie worried Liz was half serious.

  “I was raised to marry up and climb the social ladder. My mother had identified Barry as a good catch.”

  “From her point of view, he was. Football star, National Honor Society, engineering student at a good school, destined to go straight to the top of the corporate ladder.”

  “If we had been born twenty years later, you could have been the perfect catch. From a wealthy family, Phi Beta Kappa, promising pre-med destined for a brilliant career in medicine…”

  “I doubt your mother would have seen it that way even twenty years later. Maybe not even now.”

  “No. She was a devout Catholic. She was appalled that gay people wanted rights, especially after finding out about us. I’m sure gay marriage would have killed her, if she wasn’t already dead.”

  “Maybe we should get married just to spite her.”

  “Oh, great. What a good reason to get married.”

  “You did propose to me the other night. Actually, you suggested that I propose to you.”

  “I was only kidding.”

  “Uh huh.” Liz turned into the hospital entrance and swung into a parking space a little too fast for Maggie’s nerves. She turned off the engine and yanked up the parking brake. “We’re here.”

  Maggie got out of the car and scrutinized the place. Southern Med was tiny compared to NYU Medical Center or any New York hospital for that matter. She was relieved to see that everything in the Women’s Imaging Department looked brand new.

  “You’ll need to check in at that window.” Liz pointed to an opening in the wall. “I’m sure Alyson will extend professional courtesy for reading the mammogram, but you’ll have to provide your insurance card for the imaging.”

  “Of course.” Maggie felt slightly insulted that Liz should think otherwise. “I have insurance. It pays for an annual mammogram.”

  “So, why didn’t you have one?”

  “I already told you.”

  “I’ll stop. I hate doctors who preach too.” She patted Maggie’s shoulder. “I’m going to find Alyson. Be right back.”

  The patient manager who took Maggie’s information was a graying, pleasant woman about her age. “Your previous mammograms just arrived a few minutes ago. Dr. Stolz called NYU, and they came right away. She must have some pull there.”

  After Maggie answered all the questions about her medical history, the patient manager directed her to the waiting room. “It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes’ wait. They’re right on schedule this morning.”

  Maggie checked her phone while she waited. There was a text from Sophia. As usual, it was brief, dashed off by a harried oncology resident on the fly. “Mom, when are you going home? That leg should be healed by now.” Five heart emoticons.

  She dreaded answering that text and explaining everything that had happened…so much in just the last few days. She wrote: “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I’ll call later.”

  Instantly, a text came back. “I’m on a long shift until tomorrow. Call after 6 pm Love, S.” More heart emoticons, now in multiple colors.

  Maggie looked up to see Liz approaching. Beside her was a slender woman with long strawberry blond hair in a ponytail. Both wore white coats. As they came closer, Maggie could see the green Southern Med logo on the pocket of Liz’s coat and “Elizabeth A. Stolz, M.D., Dept of Surgery” embroidered in blue thread above it. She thought back to the night Liz had come into the waiting room in her shorts and T-shirt. Now, there was no doubt she was really a doctor. “The actor creates the character, but the costume seals the deal,” Maggie’s old acting coach used to say.

  In this costume, Liz was smooth and professional. “Maggie, I’d like you to meet Alyson Gagnon. She’s going to be reading your mammogram.”

  “Hello Ms. Krusick.” Dr. Gagnon extended her long, elegant hand and gave Maggie a warm smile. Her eyes were a compelling shade of green. Her skin was flawless. There was only one word to describe her: stunning. “Dr. Stolz was telling me all about you. I’m so sorry I missed you in Mama Mia. I really wanted see it, but I just never got there.”

  She’s charming as well as beautiful, thought Maggie, and at least a decade my junior.

  “Ms. Krusick?” the technician called.

  Liz tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Go with her. We’ll be in the technician’s booth. It’s wired for sound. Yell if you need anything.”

  As the technician threw her breast around the imaging plate, Maggie remembered why she hated mammograms. Fortunately, it wasn’t quite a bad as some she’d had in the past.

  She heard Liz’s disembodied voice say, “You’re doing great, Maggie. Hang in there.”

  The process was repeated until Dr. Gagnon spoke through the intercom. “All right, Ms. Krusick. Take a break. I think we have all the shots we need. Let me take a quick look to be sure.” The technician came out to release her from the torture instrument. She flipped the hospital robe over Maggie’s shoulder to cover her naked breast.

  “It won’t be much longer.” She smiled reassuringly. “I think we have what they need.”

  The sou
nd in the technician’s booth cut off. Maggie watched the two doctors hunched over a screen. The blue light reflected on their intent faces. Dr. Gagnon picked up a magnifying glass and moved closer to the source of the light. Then she handed the magnifier to Liz, who leaned forward, evidently to get a better look. When she stood straight, her face was pinched. Eventually, she noticed Maggie watching her through the glass and managed a weak smile.

  The sound switched back on with a slight hum. “Okay, Maggie. We’re done here. You can get dressed now. I need to talk to Alyson for a few minutes.”

  Chapter 20

  Liz flipped the switch to turn off the speakers in the technician’s booth. She tapped the microphone to make sure the sound was off.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Alyson. “I don’t trust these sound systems.”

  In the elevator, Alyson leaned on the button for the third floor. “There’s no way I can grade that lesion any lower than a 4C. Liz, you need to biopsy it.” She gave Liz’s arm a little squeeze of sympathy. “You found it when you were making love to her? How did that make you feel?”

  “Like I’d been punched in the throat.” Liz was surprised to hear herself speak so openly about her reactions, even to Alyson with whom she had literally been naked.

  Alyson soothingly rubbed her back. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. You wait forty years for her and now this!”

  Liz cleared her throat to make sure it was solid before she spoke. “But if we hadn’t had sex, we wouldn’t know about the lump.”

  “Small consolation to you.”

  “I tried to see if there were any more masses…without being obvious, of course.”

  Alyson’s expression changed from sympathy to amused skepticism. “It’s pretty hard not to be obvious while you’re doing a breast exam. Did you really think you could get away with it?” The elevator pinged when it reached the floor. “I’ll go over everything again and write up my notes. CNB at 11:30, right?”