by Elena Graf
Maggie nodded. “It will be good to check on my apartment and get more winter clothes. I’d like to have my winter coat in case we go out. I feel silly wearing my parka over a dress.” Liz smiled at the mental image. It was an entertaining sight, but not uncommon in Maine, where warmth was more important than style.
They had a long walk to the car because the doctor’s parking lot had been full when they’d arrived. Liz clicked open the car door with her key fob. “Have you decided what to do about the apartment?”
“Are you really sure you want me to move in with you?”
“How many times do I need to ask?” asked Liz, sliding into the driver’s seat.
Maggie adjusted her seat belt to avoid her sore breast. “I don’t want to sell the place while the market is down. If I rent it, I’ll have to clean it out. Let’s wait until after the radiation treatments.”
“Hedging your bets?”
“Liz, I’m being practical. You like that. And be nice to me. I’ve had a hard week.”
“Trying to play the sick girl card? Doesn’t work with doctors. Good try, though.” She winked, then backed out of the parking space.
***
Maggie’s one-bedroom apartment on East 9th Street was tiny, as most apartments in the Village were, but it was cleverly furnished with built-in storage cabinets and bookcases designed to utilize every bit of space. There was a little desk, a miniscule television, and a table for two in the kitchen alcove.
Liz looked around. “Nice place. Cozy.” By that she meant “cramped.” Although Liz had lived in “the city” when she was in college and medical school and for the two years when she was a visiting professor at NYU, she’d become accustomed to more living space. She was sure she could never live in a city again.
Maggie dropped her handbag on the bed. “I’m glad I cleaned up the place before I left for my Webhanet gig. Otherwise, you’d be witnessing me in my natural state.”
“Oh, I can imagine. I remember our dorm room. Face it. You’re a slob, Maggie Fitzgerald.”
Maggie lightly punched her on the shoulder. “Make yourself useful and get my suitcases down from the top shelf in the other closet.”
“I knew it! Back to my job as your pack animal.”
“Stop complaining. You signed up for this,” said Maggie screeching the hangers over the rod as she decided which clothes to take with her. “You’re the one who won’t let me lift anything heavy until my breast heals.”
While Maggie was organizing what she wanted to bring to Maine, Liz prowled around the apartment. The galley kitchen was tiny, but it had full-size appliances.
“Do you actually cook in here?” she called to Maggie in the other room. “I can’t imagine how.”
“I’ve given some big faculty dinner parties here,” Maggie called back. “You’d be impressed.”
“Where do they sit?”
“Wherever they can find a place.”
Liz picked up a photograph of two dark-haired young women. Her daughters, she guessed. Attractive. There was a picture of Maggie’s brother, Kevin, with a grown child. Although forty years had passed and Kevin would now be in his fifties, Liz instantly recognized him. He was the most accepting of Maggie’s family members. He’d tagged along that summer when Maggie and Liz desperately wanted to be alone. Liz always suspected he had a little crush on her, the infatuation adolescent boys seemed to form because she could talk about boy things: fast cars, super heroes, and fishing.
There were more family photographs in the hallway. Maggie had always been an excellent photographer and was especially good at revealing portraits. A dramatic black-and-white photograph of Maggie’s mother, Pat, showed an old woman, wrinkled, sculptural, but still proud. Here was Liz’s nemesis, shriveled by age and brought down by cancer. As Liz gazed at the picture, she found that her anger with this woman had lost its power. Pat was nothing but a woman of her time. She had been brought up to hate homosexuals and lesbians because her religion told her so. Like every woman who grew up during the war, she had been encouraged to marry up and wanted the same for her daughter.
Liz straightened the frame on the wall out of a need for order rather than respect. There was another photograph nearby, showing one of Maggie’s daughters with a small child.
“You’re a grandmother?” Liz called into the other room. “You never told me.”
“You never asked.”
“How many do you have?”
“Just the one.” Maggie came out of the bedroom. “Katrina. Isn’t she beautiful?” She leaned her head against Liz’s shoulder. “That’s Alina, by the way.”
“How do you think your daughters will react when they find out you’re hooked up with me?”
“I don’t know. They’ll probably be shocked.”
“Shocked? Why?”
“They had a very sheltered upbringing because their early life was so traumatic. They’re not your conventional young women. But you can be sure, I raised them to be feminists!”
“Sheltered feminists. Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“Not exactly. Think about it.”
Liz did, but she was still puzzled. Sometimes, the things Maggie said baffled her.
***
By dinner time, an enormous suitcase, a stack of garment bags, and boxes containing books and personal items stood waiting beside the front door. Liz surveyed the pile with raised brows. “Good thing that hatchback in the Audi has a lot of room. I thought you said you weren’t sure about moving in with me.”
“Oh, there’s lots more where that came from.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Come on. I know a wonderful little Japanese restaurant, and tonight is my treat!”
As they ate the most amazing noodle bowls Liz had ever tasted, they talked about the possibilities for the apartment. Maggie explained that the mortgage was paid off, so the only cost was the condominium common charge. When she quoted the figure, Liz almost choked on her food. The monthly fee for the tiny apartment was more than a quarter of what Liz paid in real estate taxes for the entire year!
“But it’s good to have a New York base, especially if I can get some good theater roles. My agent is working on it.”
“Tony offered you parts in his productions.” Liz tried to snake a noodle into her mouth without spraying the savory broth all over her blouse.
“I know. But it’s not the same as being on a New York stage.”
“Chauvinist! We have great local theater in Maine.”
Maggie reached across the table and patted Liz’s hand. “I’ll take the parts Tony offered me…as long as I’m well enough.”
“You will be,” Liz replied confidently.
***
As they sat reading side by side in bed, Maggie asked, “Will you be comfortable here for the night?”
Liz closed the cover of her iPad. “Well, to be honest…your mattress is like a coroner’s slab, and I haven’t seen a cockroach in twenty years. If I find out you’ve brought them home in your luggage, there will be hell to pay.”
Maggie laughed. “Give me this,” she said, reaching for Liz’s iPad. Maggie took Liz’s face in her hands and pulled it closer.
“You’re being very aggressive tonight, Professor Krusick.”
“Sometimes, a firm hand is what you need, Dr. Stolz,” said Maggie, leaning forward to kiss her. Her phone rang.
“Let it ring,” said Liz, but Maggie picked it up and looked at the display.
“It’s Sophia. I have to take this. I promised I would call after we saw the oncologist.”
Liz retrieved her iPad and slunk down in the bed. She tried not to intervene when Maggie reported skewed and sometimes incorrect information to her daughter. Finally, Liz lost patience. “Give me that phone.”
Maggie shook her head.
“I said, giv
e it to me!”
Maggie rolled her eyes, but she handed over the phone.
Liz recited the statistics from the labs and explained Beverly Birnbaum’s treatment strategy. She could almost hear the worry in her listener’s mind. “Do you want a copy of the labs, Sophia? I’ll be happy to send them to you when I get back to Maine.”
“No need. Mom can give me a copy. Alina and I are coming to visit her. We already booked our flights to New York.”
“Does your mother know about this?”
“No, it’s a surprise.”
“Well, maybe you’d better tell her because we’re heading back to Maine in the morning. Here. I’ll put her on.” Liz handed the phone back to Maggie. “They’re coming to New York.”
“What!” Maggie got out of bed and went into the other room. Her voice was muffled but agitated. She returned to the room and looked at Liz with pleading eyes. Liz reached for the phone.
“We’ll pick you up on the way home. Reroute your flights to Boston. I’ll pay the transfer fee.”
“Dr. Stolz, I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing. I’m used to house guests, and I have plenty of room. Text me your flight information after you’ve made the arrangements.” Liz handed the phone back to Maggie. “Convince them it’s okay. We’re not staying here with your cockroaches.”
Maggie gave her a filthy look, but she convinced Sophia to reroute their flights to Boston.
Maggie was distant when she returned to bed. Liz nibbled at her ear, but Maggie rolled away, pulling her legs up to her chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not ready for them to come into our life.”
“We’ll handle it. They’re your kids and they’re worried about you.”
“Sophia asked if I’d told Barry yet about the cancer. I asked why.”
Liz let out a long deep sigh at the mention of Barry. “I’m sure she means well. We’ll sort it out when they come.”
“They have no idea I was ever involved with a woman.”
“Well, then I guess you’ll have to tell them.”
Maggie groaned.
Liz pulled her closer, careful to avoid the breast where the sutures had been removed. “Don’t worry, Mag. We’ve got this.”
Chapter 27
Liz was pacing again in front of the flight announcement board. The flight from New York to Logan had been delayed another hour. Finally, Liz plopped down in the seat beside Maggie. “If I had known they weren’t going to reroute their original flights, I would have picked them up at LaGuardia or told them to fly into Portland!” Liz scowled. “Obviously, they’re not very savvy when it comes to travel.”
Like all mothers, Maggie bristled at hearing her children criticized, but in this case, she couldn’t fault Liz. She’d been so patient through this unexpected detour from their plans. They had raced to Boston to meet her daughters’ flight only to find there was a two hour delay. Now, the ETA had been revised again.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Maggie patted Liz’s thigh. It was a bad plan to begin with. If they had told me, I would have told them to wait until we got back to Maine.”
“Where do they sleep when they visit? Your apartment is microscopic.”
“They don’t usually both visit at the same time. If Alina comes with her husband, they stay in a hotel. Sophia sleeps on the sofa in the living room. It pulls out.”
“Cozy, I bet,” said Liz in a cynical voice.
Maggie looked at her. “You’re pretty crabby today.”
“I just drove for almost five fucking hours on not very much sleep. I’m not used to sleeping in such a small bed. I just want to go home. We’ve been away for almost two weeks.”
“I know. I want to go home too.”
Liz glanced at her watch.
“We have time to get something to eat. Let’s go upstairs and see what we can find.”
After a long wait, the hostess at the crowded hamburger restaurant led them to a table. The aisles were cluttered with luggage, so navigating their way required close attention. Liz sank into the chair with a sigh. “This place is so fucking noisy.”
“Liz, watch your language. I brought up my girls to be ladies.”
Liz grunted in amusement. “I bet you did, Maggie. Good, little Catholic girls like you.”
Maggie frowned in disapproval. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“All right. I’ll try to be on good behavior.” Scowling, Liz slumped in her chair.
“Yes, please try. Sophia idolizes you. She keeps telling me how famous you are. How brilliant. How she can’t wait to meet you.”
“In that case, I’ll do my best to jump off my pedestal as soon as we meet. I don’t deal with hero-worship very well.”
“Oh, Liz, enjoy it. It’s so sweet that she looks up to you.”
The waitress came to take their drinks order. Maggie ordered seltzer; Liz, the IPA on tap. After the waitress departed, Liz studied the list of beers on the back of the menu. “I don’t know much about the microbreweries in Boston, but they seem to have a slew of them.”
“I thought you were cutting back on the beer, so your skirts will fit.”
“Later. I need alcohol to fortify myself for the arrival of your brood.”
They ordered the restaurant’s signature dish and were surprised that, despite the crowd, it arrived so fast. Liz was silent while she demolished the hamburger. Maggie knew from past experience that when Liz was hungry, she became irritable and snappish. And sure enough. It was like a miracle. After eating, Liz became much friendlier. She ordered one of the local beers and sipped it while Maggie finished her hamburger, less the bun, having put it aside to save a few calories.
“I downloaded the United App so I can keep track of their flight.” Liz pulled out her phone. “No change, which is good.” She raised her crossed fingers. “At this rate, we might be home by midnight.”
“You’re such an optimist.”
“I always expect delays when I travel. I used to love it. In my heyday, I was invited to speak at a lot of medical conferences. After 9/11, travel became a nightmare. I never enjoyed it after that.”
“So, it’s true what Sophia says about you. You are famous.”
“Yes, I have a storied past.” Liz sighed. “The renowned Elizabeth A. Stolz, super surgeon and breast cancer guru.” She raised her beer glass.
“The recovery room nurse. What was her name? Linda. She said she didn’t know why you quit.”
“That’s bullshit. They all know why I quit. A new administration came in. They were all about cost cutting. They filled all the top spots with accountants and professional administrators, kicked out the doctors. I was always locking horns with them. Then came the lawsuit. That was it for me.”
“What is this lawsuit you keep talking about?”
“It was a high-profile case, an actress who makes her home on the Connecticut Gold Coast. I can’t tell you who because of confidentiality. I did a lumpectomy on her. She knew going in that radiation was part of the plan, but when the time came, she refused it. Bev wanted her to do endocrine-based therapy. She refused that too. Then she turned around and sued me because of a recurrence.”
As Maggie listened to the story, she found herself wondering if she would have a recurrence even though she was following doctor’s orders to the letter. But a recurrence was always a possibility. They’d said her mother was cured, but the cancer came back. Then it killed her.
“But you were cleared of wrongdoing.”
“Of course, I was. The case was thrown out because she hadn’t followed doctor’s recommendations, but it was in the courts for three years before it got resolved.”
“A long time to have that hanging over you.” Maggie noticed the waitress eyeing their empty plates. “I think they would like us to leave.”
>
“I think you’re right.” Liz took out her wallet.
***
When the United flight from New York was announced, Maggie had to nudge Liz awake. She’d said she felt sleepy after devouring the hamburger, but Maggie knew it was the beer. She let Liz lean her head on her shoulder, despite the stares from some people in the waiting area. If she was going to be with a female partner, she’d have to learn to tolerate some public disapproval.
Finally, the number of the girls’ flight flashed on the overhead display. “Sweetheart, wake up. Their flight arrived.”
Liz woke with a start and sat up straight. “Oh great. My mouth feels disgusting.” She dug into her pocket and came up with a tin of mints. She popped a few into her mouth and offered the tin to Maggie, but she was too excited to pay attention.
Finally, the disembarking passengers began coming through the gate. Maggie anxiously watched for her daughters. It was a commuter flight so it emptied quickly. “There they are!” she said and jumped up from her seat. She waved vigorously. Her daughters’ faces lit up when they saw her, and they rushed in her direction.
“Mom!” Alina threw her arms around Maggie.
“Take it easy, honey. Mom’s still a bit sore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You look great! I was so worried when Phi told me.”
Sophia carefully hugged and kissed her mother. Then she introduced herself to Liz. “Dr. Stolz, it’s an honor to meet you.”
Liz assumed her most professional demeanor. “Pleased to meet you too, Dr. Krusick, but I insist you call me Liz. Everyone does.” She offered her hand, and Sophia solemnly shook it. “Can I carry anything?” asked Liz.
The Krusick daughters each off-loaded a bag on Liz. “We went carry on all the way,” Alina explained. “It became too complicated to check the bags with the flight change.”
They headed for the street where they caught the shuttle bus to the parking lot. Maggie felt bad watching Liz trudge ahead as she and the girls caught up on their news. “Liz, come back!”
“I’m fine,” Liz called, walking backward. “I’ll meet you there.” She strode off on her long legs toward the car. The engine was running, and the trunk open and waiting when they finally caught up to her. Liz stood by to help load the luggage in the trunk. “Sorry, it’s so tight back here, but your mother took over all the space.”
