Defective

by Susan Sofayov

  The bus finally arrived. The crowd from Macy's corner pushed and shoved its way up the steps and down the aisle. I didn't get a seat, just a small spot of standing room near the side doors. In spite of clenching the overhead bar each time the bus stopped, I smacked into a fat man who smelled like a tuna sandwich. Of course, the bus stopped at every corner. When it reached the Forbes and Craft intersection, traffic movement ceased to total gridlock. My heart pounded inside my chest as my imagination flashed images of Nick kissing another woman. How could I have been so stupid and for so long? He probably hates me. Please, don't let me be too late.

  The bus stopped at the corner of Atwood and Forbes and, without thinking, I jumped out. The hospital. He had to be somewhere inside of the hospital. I jaywalked across Forbes and headed up Atwood. In the middle of a vertical hill loomed UPMC. Cursing myself for wearing stupid, heeled pumps, I compensated for slow feet by using my arms to propel my body forward, exerting myself until I had sweat running down my back in the forty-degree weather. Silently, I begged an unknown entity. Please let him be there and please let him be willing to talk to me.

  The red hand of the Do-Not-Cross light shined from the other side of Fifth Avenue, forcing me to a standstill. A lady with a baby stroller pulled up next to me. "Miss, I saw you running, and you look very upset. If you need help, I have a cell phone. I'll call 911 for you."

  "No," I replied. "Thank you, but I don't need help. I'm just very late for the most important meeting of my life."

  When the light changed, she motioned to me to go ahead of her. "Run, you can still make it."

  I wanted to believe her. By the time I got to the information booth in the lobby, I was breathless. The white-haired lady wearing a volunteer pin asked, "May, I help you, young lady?"

  I put both hands on the counter and leaned forward, huffing. "Please, I need to find the orthopedic unit."

  "Honey, it's on the seventh floor. Take the elevator at the end of this hallway to the seventh floor and turn left," the volunteer replied.

  Nurses, doctors, and other medical types filled the elevator. I maneuvered my body to the side and leaned against the wall, praying that it wouldn't stop on every floor. When the doors opened, I nudged my way out. I turned left just like the lady told me and walked down the long hallway that ended at a set of double doors. The sign under the small machine affixed to the wall indicated that appropriate identification was necessary to open the doors. I leaned against the wall and muttered, "Shit," under my breath.

  Slowly, the doors opened and a nurse walked out. I watched her take a few steps down the hall and then bolted through the doors before they closed. I heard the click of the lock, and I stopped, having no idea where to go or what to do, until I heard a voice. "Miss, may I help you?"

  I followed the sound of her voice. Behind the small left wall of the entrance was a workstation and seated in front of a computer screen was a bleached-blonde older woman, gazing questioningly at me.

  "Yes, please. I'm looking for someone, and I don't know if he is here."

  "A patient?" she asked.

  "No," I said, stretching to see into the room behind her. "A doctor, Dr. Nick DeCarlo."

  Her eyes opened wide, and she looked me up and down. Her friendly face became not so friendly. She tapped her pencil on the table. "You're Maggie."

  Her announcement completely stunned me. How did this woman know my name? "Yes, my name is Maggie. I need to find Nick."

  The pencil tapping became more vigorous and her eyes flashed anger. "Why should I tell you where he is? After what you did to that poor boy. You're lucky I don't jump over this counter and smack you senseless."

  "Excuse me?" I said, still trying to be nice. "Please, I just need to find him. Please."

  "So you can break his poor heart again?" she asked.

  With that comment, my frustration jumped up a few notches. "Who are you and why do you know all of this stuff about me?"

  "Nick has been like a son to me since the day he got here. For a year, it's been nothing but Maggie this and Maggie that. He was right about you being pretty, but I'll never forgive you for dumping him," she said.

  "Please, what's your name?" I asked.

  "Donna."

  "Donna, I screwed up badly, and I know it. I'm sorry, and I need to tell him I'm sorry. I'm begging, page him for me?"

  "You know, Maggie, he doesn't want to stay here. He's trying to find a way to finish his residency in Philadelphia because of you. To cheer him up, I fixed him up with Mary on 6G. She's the prettiest nurse in the hospital. They went out to dinner last week, fancy place on Mt. Washington. He liked her. Just yesterday he told me he was going to take her to the movies this weekend," she said smugly.

  That comment cracked my heart. The tears started pouring out of my eyes, which seemed to soften Donna. She walked around the counter and put her arm around my shoulder. "Maggie, stop crying. There's a chair next to me. Come and sit down. You can't just stand there sobbing. This place is full of sick people. They'll think someone died, and that depresses the patients."

  I sat down on a wheeled stool parked next to her desk and tried to stop sobbing. A nurse walked out of the room behind us to see what was going on.

  "This is Maggie," Donna said.

  The nurse's eyes widened. "The Maggie?"

  "Yup, the one who rejected my Nicky," Donna declared.

  The nurse was about my age and lacked a ring on her left hand. She checked me out as if accessing the competition. Shrugging at Donna and ignoring me completely, she said, "Well, she looks normal enough. I guess she's just plain stupid to let him get away." Then she turned and went back to her computer.

  "Does everyone on this floor know about me?" I asked.

  "Maggie, every female in this hospital knows about you. These girls would kill to be you. If I wasn't pushing sixty, I would kill to be you. I just love Nick and I'm jealous of his mother. My two sons are useless. One was thrown out of college for bad grades, and the other sits and drinks all day."

  "Donna, do you think that he would talk to me?" I asked.

  "Of course. Nick's polite. If you say something to him, he'll answer. You know, the girls are going to be heartbroken if he leaves. All the nurses and aids are mad that, because of you, they're going to lose their 'eye candy.' That's what they call Nick 'eye candy.'" She handed me another tissue.

  "Please, Donna, page him," I begged.

  "He's not here. He left right before you walked in. He worked overnight. He was supposed to get off at seven this morning, but we were busy. I'm not authorized to call or page an off-duty doctor. Only a nurse or another doctor can do that."

  Disappointment caused me to start crying again. "Donna, I don't have his actual home address, and I know he won't email me back or answer his phone if I call. Do you know where he lives?"

  "No, never needed to know," she replied.

  Defeated, I wiped my eyes and stood up. The nurse was right. The only word to describe me was stupid. "Well, thanks, Donna. When he comes in the next time, could you tell him I stopped by?" I walked around the corner of the counter, head hanging low and my heart dragging on the floor.

  "He said he was stopping at the 'O' to get something to eat. Maybe he's still there."

  I whipped out my cell phone.

  "Good idea, call him and tell him to wait for you," Donna said.

  "I'm not calling him. I'm calling the 'O.'"

  "Lordy, and I thought Dr. Nick was the only one with the 'O' on speed dial," she said, shaking her head.

  I pushed the button and bounced up and down on my heels. "Hurry, answer the phone."

  "The 'O.' What do you want?" answered a harsh-sounding female voice.

  "A doctor, I'm looking for a doctor," I replied.

  "Ain't we all, sister, but this is a restaurant, not a hospital or a dating service."

  'Wait, don't hang up. This doctor is supposed to be picking up food right now," I mouthed to Donna, "What's he wearing?"

  She mouthed ba
ck, "Green scrubs."

  I told the phone lady he was wearing green scrubs.

  "Lady, the shift at the hospital just ended. I have four guys in front of me wearing scrubs," she shot back.

  The conversation frustrated me, and her attitude annoyed the hell out of me. "He has black hair and is probably the best-looking one of the bunch."

  "Deep green eyes. About six feet tall, a little on the thin side?" she asked.

  "Yes, yes, that's him. Is he still there?" I asked, sounding rather desperate.

  "Lady, why didn't you just ask to talk to Nick? He's one of the regulars. All the girls who work here drool over him. They fight to take his order. He's sitting in his regular booth playing with that computer and eating a cheese steak, no mayo."

  "I know, I know everyone drools over him," I said as I rummaged around in my purse for my wallet. Opening it, I counted twenty-three dollars and some change. "There's twenty-three dollars in it for you if you keep him in that booth until I get there," I said.

  "How long will it take you?" she asked.

  "Fifteen minutes, twenty max," I replied.

  "He's almost finished eating. How am I going to get him to stay when he's done?" she asked.

  "I don't care how you do it. Pretend you broke a bone or sit on his lap--do anything. Just don't let him leave." I hung up and turned to Donna. "Nice to meet you. Thank you for the help. I have to run."

  "You go, girl!" she yelled at my back.

  I sprinted down the hill and almost ran into a bus on Fifth Avenue. I entered the restaurant through the Bouquet Street door and walked down the steps. He sat in the booth down the aisle directly in front of me holding some woman's arm and gesturing toward the elbow. I assumed it was my phone lady.

  The knife in my stomach twisted. The woman blocked his view, so he didn't see my approach. I slid into the opposite side of the booth. He just stared. I opened my wallet, pulled out all of my cash and handed it to her. "Thanks so much."

  "No problem, lady." She turned to Nick. "My arm feels much better now, thanks."

  Then she walked behind the counter, heaved a batch of french fries from the fryer, and dumped them into a red and white container.

  I couldn't read his face. Seeing his eyes shot a pain through my heart. I knew I had to speak first, and I had a million things to say. Where to start? I shut my eyes and inhaled. "It's you--it's always been you, Nick. I love you--always have and always will. I screwed up big time. Donna told me that you were trying to leave Pittsburgh and about your date with Nurse Mary. But please, I'm begging you. Give me another chance, please." Tears of panic dripped onto the table.

  He said nothing as he returned the laptop to the case and grabbed his coat.

  "Please, Nick." I wanted to grab him and never let go, but more than anything I wanted to see him smile. He threw the strap of the computer case over his shoulder, cleaned up the remains of his dinner, and walked way--no eye contact, completely silent.

  I watched his back as he took the first two steps. All of my hope walked away with him, and the intensity of the pain replacing it was unbearable. I lowered my face onto my crossed forearms and conceded the battle against my tears.

  "Ah, shit. Who am I trying to kid?" Nick said, loud enough for half the restaurant to hear.

  I didn't sit up or lift my face from my arms, but I twisted my head enough to see him.

  He turned around, walked back to the booth, and slid in next to me. "I'm pathetic," he said, right before pulling me into his arms.

  CHAPTER 26

  Daisies for Ella

  The funny thing about the Pittsburgh weather was that sometimes on the coldest winter day, the sunshine can be blinding. Amy and I trudged toward Ella's grave, bundled in our heavy coats with sunglasses perched on our noses.

  "Did he like the dress?" I asked.

  With a sly smile on her face, Amy replied, "He liked the dress."

  "Good."

  We walked a few more steps in silence. "Amy, what made Mark decide to help me organize this? Why the sudden interest in Ella?"

  "Really, Maggie, I don't know. You'll have to ask him."

  We reached the grave and Uncle Roy and Aunt Dori followed behind us. My mom and Ed stood at the foot of the plot, and Aunt Mildred leaned against her parent's stone. Aunt Rose stood next to her, softly chastising Mildred for leaning. Her daughter, Barbara, watched the scene, humming softly. Tom and Steph stood back from the grave, hand-in-hand and beaming with happiness. Mark and Uncle Max stood together behind the stone. Amy took her place next to Mark.

  Mark spoke first. "We're here today to honor a woman who had the misfortune of being born at the wrong time. As we all know, Ella spent her life institutionalized because during her time, there were no drugs to help her. Aunt Rose has told me many nice things about Ella, especially her artistic abilities. As I look at her new tombstone, I feel bad she never got the chance to share her art with anyone.

  "Ella missed out on a lot, especially the sense of being part of a family. She never experienced the happiness of a wedding, births, or even holidays with us because of the disease. Over the last few months, I've spent a lot of time thinking about Ella and mental illness. But most all, I thought a lot about Maggie and how I believed her episodes were just drama. Now that I know the truth, I've wondered, What would our family be like if Maggie wasn't part of it? There would be a gaping hole in all of our lives. It's the same with Ella. We don't notice the hole because we never had the chance to build a relationship with her. But think about it, the gap still exists because she was born to a place in our family, but never got to assume that role. Maybe she would have been the aunt who taught my dad to draw a straight line. Or perhaps, she would have been the aunt who made us happy just by smiling. We'll never know. So today is Ella's day to be appreciated and remembered as a family member, not for her illness."

  Mark stopped talking for a moment and looked at me. Then he continued. "And today, we thank God, there is medicine that controls the symptoms. Finally, I am grateful to Maggie for teaching me that sometimes keeping the family peace allows lies and secrets to continue." He turned his head and looked at each of us. "We are a family and it's wrong to hide our issues from one another. We can only support each other when we know the truth."

  I smiled at Mark and then turned my head to face the tombstone. "As you all know, I didn't know Ella existed until a year ago. Since then, she has become as alive to me as you all are. This tombstone project began as a form of penance for our family leaving her in the hospital--a token, so to speak, to right a wrong.

  "But since the day I started planning for this moment, I've learned a few things. First, the decisions our family made regarding Ella were made out of love. Nobody abandoned her. Unfortunately, she was born during a period when caring for the mentally ill was primitive. Her sisters and brother did the best they could within the constraints of their time. Ella was loved, and I'm sure she realized this.

  "For the last year, I've struggled with the terms bipolar and mental illness. When I learned about Ella, fear gripped me. As much as I hate to bring up the subject, Justin's Thanksgiving speech just added fuel to my fear. His words echoed in my mind for months and months. He told me to accept that he and I were born 'defective.' It wasn't until a conversation with Aunt Rose that I started to understand there is a distinction between having a defect and being defective. When I asked Aunt Rose to tell me about Ella, she glowed as she described Ella's drawing and dancing. We were well into the conversation when Ella's illness finally came up. All of us have a defect--bad eyes, hard of hearing, flat feet, nasty temper--you all get my point. But we don't see each other as defective. We see the positive in one another. Aunt Rose loved and appreciated Ella. So did Aunt Mildred and Grandma. Maybe if Ella had my pills, more people would have had the opportunity to know her. But she didn't have my pills, so I plan to honor Aunt Ella, not with a cold, lifeless tombstone, but by living the life she couldn't."

  I glanced down at my feet for a brief moment,
gathering my composure. Looking up, I watched as Aunt Rose stepped forward and placed the small potted pine tree she had been holding on the grave. Aunt Mildred signaled to Uncle Max to move the wreath that was on the ground next to him onto the grave. I gazed at Mildred as she watched Uncle Max push the steel rods of the wreath into the ground. For the first time in my entire life, I saw tears streaming down Mildred's face. We all stood silently for a few moments. I prayed Ella really did feel loved.

  Aunt Mildred moved first. She hooked her right arm through Aunt Rose's, and then she reached her left hand to Uncle Max. The rest of us followed them back to the car.

  Amy walked on my left side, and I nudged her. "Did you save dinner yet?"

  "Yeah, took care of it while I waited for the babysitter to arrive."

  We walked along at a comfortable pace for quite a while. Finally, Amy spoke. "If it's a boy, of course, we're going to name him after your father."

  "Amy that's great. If it's a girl?" I asked.

  "If it's a girl, her name will be Millie Rose. It honors three people. We hope she has the strength and tenacity of Aunt Mildred; the compassion and kindness of Ella's caregiver, Millicent; and the grace and selfless love of Aunt Rose."

  A sense of calmness emanated from Amy, and she beamed with contentment. The day after the Christmas party, she called to tell me the news of the baby thrilled Mark. When she apologized for screwing up the plan, he laughed and told her the plan was stupid because it was created before Kelsey was born. He told Amy that living with a child was wonderful and would be even better with children. Amy said he was praying for twins.

  "Millie Rose is a beautiful name, Amy," I replied. "Millie and Kelsey, too cute."

  "Our first choice for a girl name was Ella, but the name rightfully belongs to you two."

  The moment she finished speaking, Nick wrapped his arms around me and answered for me. "Absolutely."