High October

by Elena Graf

  Liz nodded and accepted Alyson’s quick kiss. After Alyson got off to head to her office, Liz pushed the button for the first floor.

  She found Maggie, looking lost and anxious in the waiting area.

  “Come with me. I know a place where we can speak privately.” Liz guided her to the elevator with a hand at her back.

  As soon as the elevator doors closed, Maggie asked, “It’s bad, isn’t it? I saw it on your face.”

  “I didn’t realize you were watching us.”

  “Liz, you have a very expressive face when you’re not guarding your feelings.”

  “I try to control it in medical situations. Maybe you can give me some pointers on being a better actress.”

  Maggie smiled weakly in response. “At least, you look like a doctor today.” She touched the embroidery on Liz’s pocket.

  “It’s the white coat. Wait till you see me in scrubs. You’ll have an orgasm on the spot.”

  “Thanks, but it doesn’t turn me on. I’ve seen enough doctors to last a lifetime, and now it seems I’ll see a lot more of them.”

  Liz gave her a sympathetic look and a quick kiss. She led her to the hospital office the doctors at Seacoast Women’s Health shared. She was the only one of the practice’s surgeons in the hospital that morning, so they had it to themselves. Liz gestured to the sofa and Maggie took a seat.

  Liz sat down beside her and put her arm around her. “The news isn’t all bad. There’s only one visible lesion on the mammograms. It’s very small, well under two centimeters.”

  “Stop being optimistic for my sake. I need you to be completely honest with me.”

  Liz sighed as she considered how to explain the situation. Of course, she would be honest with Maggie, but there were always ways to make the news sound less ominous. “It’s unlikely it’s a cyst,” Liz said gently. She brushed a lock of blond hair away from Maggie’s eyes. “Alyson and I agree it needs to be biopsied. Like you, I was hoping it would turn out to be nothing, and it may still turn out to be nothing. The best news is there aren’t more masses, and the one we found is very small. I only found it because I’ve done so many breast exams.”

  Liz’s phone pinged. She pulled it out of the pocket of her white coat and scrutinized the screen.

  “That’s Alyson. The previous procedure finished early. We can go down now and get it over with, or we can wait until the scheduled time. Your choice.”

  “That’s fine,” said Maggie with a sigh. “I wish it could all be over. It’s like a bad dream. I keep hoping I’ll wake up from it.”

  “I know. I wish we could all wake up from it.”

  As they set up the IV drip, Liz steadied herself with the thought that a CNB was a simple procedure that she had done literally hundreds of times. She knew that performing it on Maggie was skirting the bounds of medical ethics, but she flatly told her conscience to mind its own business.

  When Alyson came in, Liz felt calmer and more confident. Ostensibly, Alyson was only there to give advice on needle placement. Liz knew her real motive was to offer moral support in this potentially difficult situation.

  As Liz watched Alyson study the mammogram on the screen, she wondered why she had refused her proposal. Alyson would have made a good partner. Not only was she beautiful and intelligent, her support was reliable and completely sincere. A wisp of strawberry blond hair had escaped Alyson’s ponytail. Her elegant fingers reached up to loop it around her ear.

  Maggie reached for Liz’s hand, distracting Liz from her admiration of Alyson.

  Liz explained what would happen next. “The sedative will make you sleepy. I’ll spread some topical anesthetic on your skin. It will be icy. Hopefully, by the time I inject the local anesthetic, you’ll be out cold.”

  “Sweet dreams,” said Alyson in a genuinely kind voice. “Liz is great at this, and don’t worry. I’m here to keep an eye on her.”

  Maggie nodded off quickly, but Liz waited a moment for the local to act before beginning. When a patient was under, it was difficult to know the level of numbness. She’d rather wait a few minutes than cause unnecessary pain.

  Liz quickly located the mass with the ultrasound wand.

  “You’re very good with that thing, Liz,” said Alyson. “Maybe you missed your calling.”

  “Forget it. Radiology is the most boring discipline I can imagine.”

  “Everything in medicine in boring to a surgeon.”

  “At least, I see my patients once in a while instead of staring at a screen all day.”

  “Hey, hey, be nice. I’m here for you.”

  Liz positioned the needle for insertion. They both trained their eyes on the ultrasound screen, where they could see the needle entering the breast and penetrating the mass. “Bullseye.” Liz aspirated a core and repositioned the needle to take another sample. She repeated the process with another syringe. “That should give them plenty to work with.” She handed the syringes to the technician, who took them to the instrument area to discharge them into the sample vials. “Okay. That was easy enough. Shut off the drip. We’re done here.”

  The medical assistant approached to wipe up the gel and cover the breast with a sheet.

  “I’ve got to go.” Alyson gave Liz a pat on the shoulder. “Let me know when you get the path report. I’ll shoot over mine this afternoon.”

  “Thanks, Al.” Liz stripped off her gloves. “Join us for lunch? We’re going to that place you like in Portsmouth.”

  Alyson’s eyes lit up. “The one that makes those delicious Cuban sandwiches?”

  Liz nodded.

  Alyson glanced at Maggie, who was just opening her eyes. “No, I think your patient will need all of your attention today. Another time.” She gave Liz’s arm a quick pat and left.

  Liz looked into Maggie’s hazel eyes, which were desperately trying to focus without her glasses. “Hey there. How are you feeling?”

  “Is it over?” asked Maggie in a sleepy voice.

  “All done. You did very well. But I want you to lie there for a moment until you feel well enough to sit up.” She carefully put Maggie’s glasses on her face so she could see.

  “How long will it be until we find out?” Maggie gazed around the room, blinking as she acclimated herself to her surroundings.

  “Couple of days, a week at the most. They’re pretty quick in that lab. I also requested a second evaluation from another lab. That’s one reason I put you under. Being poked with one syringe is bad enough, never mind two.”

  “I think I can sit up now.” Liz slipped her hand under Maggie’s back to help her sit up. “I’m still a little woozy. Can I just sit here for a minute?”

  “Of course, you can. Take your time.” Liz patted her thigh. “We’re the last ones using this room until one o’clock. No one is going to rush us out.”

  “Wow. That sedative was powerful!”

  Liz nodded. “Most of the younger docs use only local anesthetic. That’s the trend because there’s less risk. You weren’t really out cold, just sedated. I figure the poor patient is terrified enough by the prospect of having cancer. No need to cause more pain and anxiety.”

  “You’re a very good doctor, Liz. I wish all those fertility doctors I saw were as considerate and gentle as you.”

  “I’m not sure all my patients would agree that I’m gentle.”

  The technician, a young, dark haired woman, who’d remained to tidy the room chuckled softly. “Don’t let her fool you, Ms. Krusick. Her patients love her. That’s why she gets so many surgeries even though she claims to be retired.”

  “Someday, Sandy, I really will retire and fool you all. You’ll see.”

  The technician laughed out loud. “Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  ***

  While Maggie dressed, Liz headed to the Seacoast Women’s Health office to drop off her c
linical coat. Maggie was waiting when she returned to the first floor. She gazed vacantly ahead, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

  Liz had to tap her shoulder to get her attention. “Hungry?”

  “I’m starving. You wouldn’t let me eat any breakfast. Remember?”

  “I’ll make it up to you. You’ll like this place.”

  Maggie was quiet as they drove to Portsmouth. Liz let her have the privacy of her thoughts. So much had happened in only a few days, and Maggie had a lot to digest. After they crossed the bridge and navigated the multiple lanes of traffic merging to get off the exit, Liz reached over and patted her thigh. Maggie compressed her lips and gave her a sad look. Liz could see she was on the verge of tears.

  “Don’t worry. It will be all right.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  Liz nodded. “I’ll keep this one.”

  The restaurant was one of the many eateries along Congress Street in downtown Portsmouth where Liz often ate when she had business at Southern Med. They ordered the Cuban pork sandwich. Maggie raved about it and completely finished hers except for some of the bread which she left on her plate “for her figure.” She had noticeably perked up since she’d eaten. “Excellent. You may take me here again.”

  “As you wish, Madam.” Liz bowed her head.

  “So, how does this Alyson fit into the picture?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to ask that question.”

  “She’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes, she’s very attractive. Surgeons always get the prettiest girls.”

  “And why is that?” Maggie carefully folded her napkin and set it down beside her plate.

  “Well, you know. We’re the cowboys of medicine. Make a lot of money. Prestige.”

  “Amazing that women still fall for that.”

  “Surprisingly, they do.” Liz nodded to the waitress who was handing her the check. She gave it a brief glance, decided it was correct, and put her credit card in the sleeve.

  “So why aren’t you and Alyson still together?”

  “She was more serious about the relationship than I was. She wanted to get married. She proposed to me and even bought me a ring.”

  Maggie’s face produced a theatrically perfect look of shock.

  “Yes, I know. That part didn’t go over very well. If anyone’s going to do the proposing, it will be me.”

  Maggie nodded. “But apart from offending your butch sense of propriety, what made you reject her proposal?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Alyson is wicked smart. Very athletic. Runs marathons. Loves to hike. As you said, she’s quite attractive.” Liz stopped to gauge how Maggie was receiving this information. So far, she didn’t look very disturbed, but she knew that Maggie, the actress, was incredibly skilled at disguising her feelings. “Something was off. I can’t say exactly what it was. Maybe I’m just not the marrying kind.”

  An emotion Liz couldn’t define passed in Maggie’s face. She glanced around, looking as if she was suddenly anxious to leave.

  Chapter 21

  Maggie listened to the shower beat against the wall in the bathroom while she tried to drift off to sleep again. She remembered lying in Liz’s arms and falling asleep against her breast.

  Breasts. You’ve got to stop thinking about breasts! Maggie told herself. She’d never thought much about her own until now. They were something that sat on her chest and gave her tops and dresses an attractive, feminine line. Barry hardly bothered with them, joking from time to time that he didn’t mind that she wasn’t “big.” He wasn’t a “breast man,” he’d said. Neither was Tom. Maybe that’s why Maggie had come to disregard them.

  They were obviously important to Liz who lavished attention on them. Sometimes she felt she could come from nipple stimulation alone. When she’d said as much, Liz explained that the nerves in the nipples connected to the same part of the brain as those in the clitoris. Liz was a font of information about sex. “Comes from living with a gynecologist for years. I never knew women’s bodies were so complex until I met Jenny. They certainly didn’t teach us much in medical school.”

  The water in the shower cut off. The hair dryer droned for a few minutes. Liz always made quick work of her hair—a casual blow dry, then a brush through the uncooperative gray waves that had replaced the sleek, chestnut hair of her youth.

  Liz strode into the room completely naked. Although, she was a bit slack around the middle, she still had a strong body, muscular arms and back, and a tight backside. Her long, shapely legs could be in a panty-hose ad. Maggie watched her dress through her eyelashes. Liz yanked up her panties and wiggled her way into a cotton bra. She stepped into a pair of dress pants. Now that summer was over, she’d put away the shorts and dressed “office casual.” The suits came out for her appointments with her surgical patients at Seacoast Women’s Health. Although Liz looked more like a doctor, there was a part of Maggie that missed the Liz-on-perpetual-vacation who has treated her broken leg.

  Liz bent down and pressed her lips to Maggie’s temple, gently, as if she were kissing a sleepy child. “I love you.” Liz nipped her ear a little with her lips. “Have a good day.”

  “I love you too.” Maggie turned her face up to offer a kiss.

  In four strides, Liz was out the door. Maggie listened to her feet pounding down the stairs.

  Now that it was dark in the morning, Liz dressed before getting her coffee at Awakened Brews and walked on her lunch break. Maggie had become attuned to the rhythm of Liz’s life. She knew which days Liz operated at Southern Med and saw her surgical patients in York. When Liz had evening meetings, Maggie had dinner prepared in time for her to eat beforehand. Today, Ellie was coming to clean, so Maggie had set her phone alarm for eight.

  When she’d wondered aloud how to explain to Ellie that she’d moved into the master suite, Liz had laughed. “Ellie has seen a lot of people come and go in this house,” said Liz. “If she has an opinion about your sharing my bed, she’ll never let on.” That only made Maggie think of Alyson. No doubt, there had been others.

  She’d meant to ask Liz about the ring. Was it a big, showy diamond? Maggie never had one. Despite Barry’s promise as an engineer, he was only a student when he’d proposed and the engagement ring he’d given her was puny. He’d tried to make up for it with an anniversary ring years later. Maggie had sold them after the divorce for a pittance.

  Although thinking of Alyson and Barry distressed her, it was more comfortable than thinking about breast cancer. Whenever someone mentioned those words, Maggie had a flashback to walking in on her naked mother. Pat Fitzgerald was an old-fashioned Irish Catholic, always modest, even around her adult daughters. Maggie was shocked to see the devastation of her mother’s body—the muscles sliced away from her chest wall, her underarm hanging flabby and empty, her ribs visible under a thin layer of skin, still angry and red, years after the surgery.

  The anticipation of the worst was stealing all of Maggie’s peace. The pathology reports would arrive soon. Liz had said she wanted to read them both side by side before discussing the results or making any recommendations. As much as Maggie wanted to know, she dreaded hearing the verdict. She wanted to be prepared, so she picked up Liz’s book where she’d left off, but she couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t focus on anything. The mind chatter was incessant and exhausting. So far, only sex had been powerful enough to drown it out.

  “You need to calm down about this,” Liz advised when Maggie complained that she couldn’t sleep. “I know it’s hard waiting for test results, but this is just the beginning. If you have cancer, you’ll be living with this for the rest of your life. You need to cope with the anxiety.”

  Maggie had to draw on her skill as an actress to hide how much Liz’s blunt assessment had hurt. Later, when she’d had ti
me to think about it, she realized that although the words sounded harsh, they were sound advice.

  “What do you suggest…to help me cope?”

  “Some people try meditation…or yoga…you could join a support group…lots of things. I have some pamphlets in the office. Do you want me to bring them home?”

  Maggie shook her head. What could pamphlets do? Nothing.

  “If it gets really bad, I can write a script for anti-anxiety meds, but that’s the solution of last resort.”

  “Sex is a good distraction. And it’s harmless.”

  “Yes, but we can’t spend all day in bed,” said Liz, “as much as I’d like to.”

  Maggie took the memory of that conversation as a cue to get up. She turned off the alarm app on her phone. Her plan was to be showered and dressed before Ellie showed up. Fewer questions that way.

  She was hard at work in the office space Liz had created in a small room on the third floor when Ellie appeared around nine-thirty. From the window, Maggie watched the old Subaru Forester pull into the driveway and park in front of the garage. A few minutes later, she heard steps on the stairs. Ellie poked her head in the door.

  “Good morning, Dr. Krusick.” Ellie continued to address Maggie formally no matter how many times Maggie had asked her to call her by her first name. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but do you mind if I clean the downstairs guest room for the next guest?”

  “Certainly not. I won’t be using it any longer.”

  “Yes, Liz called to let me know you’ve moved upstairs.”

  How like Liz to smooth things over by taking charge and addressing the issue directly.

  “So, you’ll be staying a while…” Ellie’s little smile was canny. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Liz could use the company. She has a full house with her summer visitors, but no one comes in the winter. It can get pretty lonely up here.”

  It was the most personal thing about Liz she’d ever heard come out of Ellie’s mouth, but she knew Ellie adored Liz, and her intentions were completely benign.