Miss Julia Delivers the Goods

by Ann B. Ross

  “Mama’s sick?”

  “To tell you the truth, Lloyd, I think it’s just a touch of flu. She has all the symptoms—a fever, loss of appetite, and so forth. It’s almost the season for it, you know. The summer kind, anyway, and every year we have some kind of Asiatic bug that makes a transatlantic or transpacific flight. One or the other.” I wasn’t telling him the unvarnished truth because I was still hoping that Hazel Marie’s malady had to do with female matters. But that wasn’t something to be discussed with a child on the verge of adolescence, the age when they know nothing and imagine a lot.

  The boy’s face was so drained that his freckles stood out to an alarming degree. His hands shook and he looked as if he’d throw up any minute. So maybe Hazel Marie did have the flu and it had started to spread.

  “Look at me, Lloyd,” I said, my voice calm and soft. “We have to stay strong so we can do all we can to help your mother. After supper, Sam and I’ll take you to the hospital to see her. When I left this afternoon, she was already feeling much better. Sleepy, but better. So pull yourself together and we’ll get through this all right.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said in a tremulous voice, “I will. But I think I’ll go upstairs and, maybe, pray a little.”

  I watched him trudge out of the room, his thin little legs sticking out of his tennis shorts, and realized that I’d not reassured him in any way. I looked over at Lillian who was wiping her face with her apron. “I expect it’d be well for us to do the same,” I said and walked over to pat her shoulder. “Pray, that is. But we have to be strong, Lillian, and not frighten the child.”

  “I know, Miss Julia,” she said, “an’ I’m tryin’. Maybe I better cook something, that always he’p me. I have us a early supper, ’cause I know you didn’t have no lunch and I know y’all goin’ over to the hospital again. An’ I know you didn’t finish packing ’cause you didn’t bring down her suitcase an’ prob’ly didn’t put in what she want anyway. I know she want her best gowns, ’specially that lacy one Mr. Pickens give her.”

  “Lord, Lillian, not that one. She has a young doctor, and we wouldn’t want to distract him. He might never let her come home. Besides, I don’t need to be reminded of how inappropriate a gift that was. Victoria’s Secret, of all things. But, yes, an early supper would be fine so we can all go over to the hospital. Thank you for thinking of it.” I patted her again. “Are you all right now? I need you to help keep us on an even keel.”

  She nodded, wiped her face again, then said, “I will. I jus’ have a little sinkin’ spell. I be all right in a minute soon’s I put something on the stove.”

  I wandered out of the kitchen and through the house, starting twice to go upstairs to comfort Lloyd, but coming back down again. What could I tell him when I knew nothing myself? I certainly wasn’t going to mention parasites or an all-out infection to him. He was a worrier, just as I was, and smart enough to know that being suddenly put into a hospital didn’t bode well for anybody. For a doctor to run tests on a patient meant one of two things: Either he wanted to confirm something awful that he suspected or he didn’t have an idea in the world what was wrong and hoped the results would give him a clue. Either was disturbing and not easily discussed with a child.

  I couldn’t stand it any longer. Maybe that doctor had come back in. Maybe the nurses could tell me something. Maybe Hazel Marie was, indeed, better. Or worse, and needed me.

  I marched through the kitchen, telling Lillian I’d be back in thirty minutes, and went out into the drizzle and drove to the hospital. It would be well, I told myself, to check on her again before bringing Lloyd up to see her. It wouldn’t do him any good to walk in and see her in the active throes of whatever ailed her.

  I hoped, of course, to catch Dr. McKay—pardon me, Rick—on his afternoon rounds. As I parked and walked into the hospital I realized that most of my anxiety was rising from being dependent on a young man barely old enough to shave. I mean, he didn’t know who we were. Here, he’d come to town, not knowing a soul, thinking he could dispense medical care to whoever showed up. Why, he probably thought that Hazel Marie and I had just walked in off the street. With Dr. Hargrove, I knew we’d get the best the profession had to offer, or I’d know the reason why. He’d known us for years and knew we wouldn’t stand for less than the best. Besides, he was a Presbyterian, too, and understood that he’d have to sit in church with us every Sunday that rolled around. That sort of fellowship with one’s physician can make him very particular in how he dispenses medical care.

  Foiled again, I thought as I turned away from the nurses’ desk. Not only was the doctor not around, neither was Hazel Marie. She had been trundled to some department for a lengthy test, which I was assured would be finished by the time regular visiting hours began. There was nothing to do but go home again, uninformed and unsatisfied.

  On my way home, I suddenly veered off and drove to Sam’s house, hoping to catch him there. I simply needed to talk and, with Lloyd in the house, I couldn’t voice my concerns for fear that he would hear them.

  I pulled into the driveway at Sam’s house, stopping short of the open garage door. I got out of the car and saw James up on a stepladder handing boxes down to Sam.

  “Sam?” I said, entering the garage.

  “Well, hey, Julia,” Sam said, with the surprised and delighted smile that he always gave me. He set the box down and dusted off his hands. “What brings you here?” Then he frowned, remembering Hazel Marie. “Is everything all right?”

  “Hey, Miss Julia,” James said from atop the ladder. “You come to he’p us?”

  “Hardly. We’ll leave it with you, because I have to take Sam away for a few minutes. Walk into the house with me, Sam. I need to talk to you.” James was the biggest gossip in town, so I certainly wasn’t going to talk about Hazel Marie in his hearing.

  Sam and I walked into his kitchen where James couldn’t hear us, but I closed the door just in case.

  “What’s going on, Julia?” Sam asked, as he went to the sink to wash his hands. “Have you heard anything?”

  “Not a thing. I just went to the hospital to, you know, check on her, but they’d taken her off somewhere for some kind of test. What in the world could they be doing to her?”

  “Maybe they’re doing an MRI or some kind of scan. I wouldn’t worry about it, Julia. It’d all be part of the tests the doctor is running.” He dried his hands with a paper towel and came to my side. “Have you told Lloyd? How’s he taking it?”

  “Oh, Sam, that child is scared out of his wits, as I knew he would be. He went straight upstairs to pray, which I would do myself if I could sit still long enough. But you need to come home now and help me with him. What are you doing, anyway? I thought you just came to put up some papers. This is no time to be cleaning out a garage.”

  “I know,” he said, putting his arms around me. “I’m sorry. It’s just that James had such a mess out there that I had to get into it myself. If I’d left it with him, I’d never find anything again. But I’m sending him home right now, and I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  “Good. I need you there and so does Lloyd. Oh, and, Sam, I tried to get Mr. Pickens, but he’s out of town and not expected back anytime soon. I could just sit down and cry at the thought of it, because when Hazel Marie hears that she may have some sort of crisis or something.”

  “No, she won’t,” Sam said in a soothing tone. “I expect she knows where he is and she can tell you how to reach him.”

  “Oh, of course,” I said with relief. “I hadn’t thought of that. To tell the truth, I’m not thinking straight about anything. You’ll go with us tonight to the hospital, won’t you?”

  “I’m planning on it. Now, you run on and let me lock up here. I’ll be right behind you.”

  He hugged me close for a minute, my first calm minute of the day, then I left.

  Chapter 5

  It was still early when we arrived at the hospital after supper, but because of the damp, cool day and the low clo
uds overhead, it felt late. Sam drove us and, after parking, carried Hazel Marie’s suitcase, with me following with Lloyd. Lillian brought up the rear, a huge paper sack in her arms. Nothing would do but she had to come with us and I was just thankful that she’d put Latisha, her great-granddaughter, in the care of a neighbor. Hazel Marie was in no condition to put up with the child’s constant questions and comments about everything she saw.

  So in we trooped through the lobby, into the elevator, and up to the second floor. The hall was dimly lit and a few visitors were going in and out the doors. One scantily clad man, clutching a robe together, pushed an IV pole as he walked up and down the hall. Lord, it was a depressing place, and I couldn’t wait to get Hazel Marie out of it.

  I tapped on her door, then pushed it open and we all filed in. She turned her head toward us, but I could barely see her. Only one small crooked-necked lamp was on, so the room was dark and edged in shadows.

  “Mama!” Lloyd said and ran to her bed.

  She reached for him and pulled him close. “Oh, Lloyd, I’m so glad to see you.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Why’d they put you in here? When’re you coming home?”

  She smiled and brushed back his hair. “Just as soon as I can. Maybe tomorrow if they get through with the tests. Hey, Mr. Sam, Miss Julia.” She sighed as if greeting us had taken all her strength, but then she managed a weak smile. “Lillian, my goodness, I didn’t see you. Y’all didn’t have to come. I’m all right, really I am.”

  “You don’t look all right to me,” Lillian said, stating a fact we could all see, but which I’d as soon not have had put so bluntly. One must encourage the sick, even if it means telling a story or two. “Now, Miss Hazel Marie,” Lillian went on as she put her paper sack on the dresser. “I brought you some soup an’ cornbread an’ a piece of lemon pie. I know they don’t have good home cookin’ here, so you get them nurses to heat this soup up for you whenever you have a mind for it.”

  “Thank you, Lillian,” she managed to murmur, but a definite greenish tint passed over her face.

  “I’m gonna make you some bran muffins, too,” she went on. “To clean out yo’ system with. Then you feel better.”

  At Hazel Marie’s desperate glance at me, I said, “That’s the last thing she needs, Lillian. Let’s think more along the lines of Jell-O or a clear broth. Something soothing like that.”

  Lillian nodded. “I do that, too.”

  There weren’t enough chairs in the room, so Sam went out to the nurses’ desk and thanked them for the use of a few of theirs. Lloyd remained by his mother’s bed, glancing occasionally at the IV in her arm and staying far from it. Hazel Marie asked for her bed to be raised slightly, which I took to be a good sign. Sam called in a nurse to do it, since none of us wanted to risk causing a sudden jolt.

  So after a while, we were all sitting around with nothing to say. Hospital visits are not the most conducive to conversation in the best of circumstances, which this wasn’t. It’s hardly the most encouraging thing to the sick and ailing to discuss how things are proceeding along at home without them, and, after you’ve asked how someone is feeling and told a few stories about how well they look, there’s little else to say.

  Sam started in telling about straightening his garage and some of the remarks James had made about people being pack rats, and after we’d congenially laughed a little, silence fell again. Lillian didn’t help matters, because she looked ready to break down any minute. Hazel Marie herself was making little effort to entertain us, a sure sign of a weakened condition. Every time there was a lull in the conversation, her eyes started closing and she’d blink them, trying to stay awake.

  “Hazel Marie,” I said, finally hitting on a subject that might interest her, “did you get a chance to watch your programs this afternoon?”

  “No’m, I kept falling asleep, even when All My Children came on.”

  Well, that was certainly a bad sign, but I didn’t comment on it. I glanced at Lillian, who had begun putting Hazel Marie’s nightclothes in a dresser drawer and saw her wipe tears from her face, and that wasn’t a good sign, either.

  “Sam,” I said, “I think we’d better go. Lloyd has an early morning, and Hazel Marie needs her rest.” I walked up behind Lloyd and put my hands on his shoulders. “We’ll take care of him, Hazel Marie. You just concentrate on getting well. Has that doctor been in tonight?”

  She nodded against the pillow, her hair getting more entangled than it already was. “A little while ago. He just said he might know something tomorrow.”

  My mouth tightened at that, but it wouldn’t do to undermine a patient’s trust in her physician, so I said nothing. But I thought a lot, little of it very complimentary. “Say good night, Lloyd, and run along with Sam and Lillian. I need to speak with your mother for a minute.”

  He leaned down to kiss his mother, and she wrapped her arms, one hand encumbered with tape, needle, and tubing, around him. My stomach clenched up at the sight, and I had to turn my head.

  I let them all go out before me, then leaned down to Hazel Marie. “Hazel Marie,” I whispered, “I tried to get Mr. Pickens, but he’s out of town and his answering service was no help at all. Tell me where he is and I’ll keep trying, because he’ll want to know. I expect he’ll come flying in from wherever he is.”

  She turned her face away and murmured something.

  I leaned closer. “What?”

  “He won’t,” she whispered.

  “Why, why ever not? Of course he will, Hazel Marie. He’ll be so upset at the thought of you being ill.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you,” she said so low that I could hardly hear her. She turned her head to look up at me through half-closed eyes. “He’s probably in Charlotte. That’s where he’s moving to.”

  “Moving?” My heart dropped at the thought, because that meant Hazel Marie and Lloyd might go with him. “My gracious, he can’t do that. Why would he want to?”

  “Because it’s over,” she mumbled. “We broke up.”

  “What! Hazel Marie, I don’t believe it. Why?”

  “Because I couldn’t stand it anymore.” She reached up with her taped hand and brushed tears from her cheek. “And please don’t tell Lloyd. He doesn’t know yet. But I had to do it, Miss Julia. All I’ve ever been is somebody’s girlfriend my whole life, and it won’t ever change with him.”

  Well, I expect she was right about that since he’d already tried two or maybe three wives and hadn’t kept a one of them. Or maybe they’d left him, who knew? But Hazel Marie had known his unsavory history, and I’d thought she was reconciled to his skittishness when it came to marriage. So I was shocked that she’d had the gumption to put an end to it.

  “You mean,” I asked, “you were the one to break up?”

  She nodded, making the tears flow faster. “It really upset him.”

  “Well, I guess so. I doubt Mr. Pickens has ever been on the receiving end of something like that. Well, Hazel Marie, I don’t know what to say. In one way, I’m proud of you, and, in another, I’m going to miss him.”

  “Oh, me, too,” she sobbed.

  “Oh, my goodness, this won’t do at all. It’s not good for you to get emotional while you’re sick. Just stop thinking about it, Hazel Marie, it’ll work out. And this might bring him to his senses.”

  Her head went back and forth on the pillow, doing less and less for the state of her hair. She didn’t seem to mind, which just goes to show how sick she was. “No, I don’t want him here. I don’t ever want to see him again. So, Miss Julia?” She grabbed my hand. “Don’t call him. All it’d do would be to drag things out and make them worse. Promise you won’t call him.”

  “Well,” I said, doubtfully, “if you insist. But I think he’d like to know you’re in the hospital. He could at least send flowers.”

  “No, I’m about to get over him, and I don’t want to start anything up again. And I don’t want Lloyd to be in the middle of it. He’d be so upset.”


  “You’re certainly right about that, and you know I’ll support you in whatever you do. But we can talk about this later on. Right now, I want you to rest and get well. I’ll be back over first thing in the morning. I want to talk to that doctor.” Fearing that her stirred-up emotions would cause a relapse, I was anxious to leave so the medications could do their job. And so I could tell Sam about this unexpected development. “Sleep well, Hazel Marie, and don’t lie awake worrying.”

  The door swung open just as I stepped away from the bed and a nurse bustled in, or rather, she would’ve bustled if she’d had on a starched uniform instead of a nylon one, which only swished. “She’s not going to lie awake,” she said in a voice too loud for the surroundings. “Here you are, Hazel Marie, let’s see if you can keep it down so you won’t need an injection. Down the hatch now.”

  As Hazel Marie took a tablet from her, I thought to myself how it seemed that the entire medical community from the lowliest receptionist to the highest-powered specialist conspired to make patients feel like children. Frankly, I didn’t like being addressed by my first name by complete strangers, and the one time a bank teller right out of high school presumed to be a close acquaintance, I took it as my duty to teach her some respect for her elders.

  But it wouldn’t have been prudent to incur the wrath of those who were caring for Hazel Marie, so I waved and slipped out the door, my heart pounding with anxiety. Not only was Hazel Marie sick with who-knew-what, but she’d cut off Mr. Pickens and I hadn’t even known it. I needed to talk to Sam. And Lillian. Between the three of us, surely we could figure out something.

  Chapter 6

  Sam drove us home in near silence, broken only by Lillian in the backseat trying to allay Lloyd’s worries. I didn’t think she was succeeding since she kept crooning, “She be all right now. Don’t you be worryin’ yo’self sick, you pore little thing, you.”