Matters of the Heart

by Catherine Maiorisi

  “Good morning, Miss Sunshine.” Francine stood at the end of the bed smiling. “Sleep okay?”

  “Yes. Thanks. Did you see Dr. Trapani when you came in last night?”

  “Of course, she was right here.”

  “I kind of gave her a hard time. Was she all right?”

  “I heard about the casts. Bummer. But Dr. Trapani was fine. Emergency room doctors can take a lot of abuse. Don’t worry about her.”

  “Have you seen her this morning?”

  “No, but I heard her moving around. I think she went out for a run.”

  Darcy’s eyes kept darting toward Andrea’s door.

  Francine stepped in front of Darcy, breaking her connection with the door. “Don’t worry, hon, she’s not going anywhere. She’ll be in after she showers and dresses.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Francine grinned. “Trust me.”

  Darcy wondered about that grin. Was it just to reassure her or did Francine know something she didn’t know?

  Francine stood between Darcy and the door again, this time waving the bedpan. “You slept through the night, you must be in dire need.”

  “Now that you mention it.”

  Francine cleaned Darcy and the bedpan, checked her temperature, respiration rate and blood pressure, then updated the chart.

  Darcy lay staring at the door, thinking about her new strategy for dealing with Andrea. She was going to be cool. When she heard Andrea moving around in her room, Darcy glanced at Francine and caught her watching. Francine raised her eyebrows.

  Darcy felt her whole body heat up. Francine was no fool, she knew. “Francine?”

  “What do you need, hon?”

  “I…could you, um, could you not say anything about. . . um, this, to the doctor, to Andrea?”

  Francine smiled. “Now you know I have to talk to the doctor about your vitals and all things medical. Is there something else?”

  “No.” Darcy grinned. “Nothing else.”

  The door opened and Darcy and Francine both turned. Andrea looked from one to the other. “Whoa, what are you two cooking up?”

  “I didn’t hear her say good morning, did you, Francine?”

  “Can’t say I did.” Francine turned to hide her smile.

  * * *

  Ah, so we’re going to be playful this morning, thought Andrea, that’s better than last night. And it solved her dilemma about how to deal with last night. “Oh, sorry, I meant to say good morning.”

  “Much better, my good doctor, a much better start to the day than accusing us of plotting against you.”

  “Doctor Trapani,” Francine said, “if we could go over Darcy’s chart, I’ll leave you two to, um, to whatever.”

  Andrea looked at the chart. Darcy’s pressure was high again. Then she scanned the note Francine had written:

  She slept until she heard your door open and close when you went out this morning, then she seemed anxious. I told her you’d gone for a run and would be back and she settled a little. She didn’t relax until she heard you come in again. Her eyes were glued to the door, waiting for you.

  Francine left and Andrea gathered what she needed to wash Darcy. “I’m worried about your heart so I’ve asked Dr. Castillo to come and listen for herself. The only time she has free is her lunch break, so I invited her to eat with us. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “Did you tell Maria?”

  “I left her a note but I’ll call down later to be sure.” Andrea brushed Darcy’s teeth, then washed and dried her face.

  Darcy took a deep breath. “Dr. Trapani, I owe you an apology for my infantile behavior yesterday. I had no right to take my frustration and disappointment out on you or try to manipulate you into my bed. And while flirting is in my nature and I can’t promise I won’t do it, I want you to know I understand that calling me sweetie or any other term of endearment doesn’t mean you love me. I mean, you’re probably straight, and the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. I also understand that given our circumstances, it’s not unusual for the patient to be grateful and confuse the care you give with love.”

  Stunned, Andrea stopped washing her. On the one hand, Darcy was letting her off the hook and she didn’t have to say anything about her feelings. On the other hand, she felt devastated because Darcy was saying the only reason she cared was their circumstances. “I see.”

  “You’re very important to me, Doctor, and I want you to stay with me for however long it takes me to get back on my feet. I’ll try not to harass you. Please don’t run away from me.”

  “Thank you for clearing that up. I meant what I said, I’ll be here as long as you need and want me.”

  Andrea was super conscious of Darcy watching her. Her emergency room face, which didn’t let the patient see how bad things might be, came in handy. Only this time it was the doctor who was hurting.

  When she finished washing and dressing Darcy, they ate the breakfast Maria delivered and chatted about what they would do this afternoon. “Would you like to go for a walk in Central Park?” Andrea dabbed at the egg yolk on Darcy’s chin.

  Darcy shook her head. “I’d prefer the garden. I don’t feel comfortable having strangers ogle me in the wheelchair.”

  “Ogle?”

  “You know what I mean. I look grotesque splayed out with these casts.”

  “No one will stare. Besides, you’ll look beautiful, as usual.”

  Darcy was silent as Andrea removed the napkin she’d tucked into her collar. “You think I look beautiful like this?” Her voice was low.

  Andrea had spoken without thinking but given yesterday’s sweetie incident, the truth was her only option. “Yes, I do. The casts and being in a wheelchair don’t diminish your natural beauty.” She forced herself to look at Darcy. “So what’s your pleasure now?”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Darcy smiled sweetly. “I’d like the iPod, please.”

  With the earbuds in, Darcy closed her eyes.

  Andrea stared, admiring Darcy’s long eyelashes and perfect eyebrows, her full lips. She was gorgeous. Maddening, but gorgeous. With her eyes on Darcy, she processed what she’d said about last night. On the one hand, Francine’s note indicated that Darcy had been afraid she’d left. And last night Francine was definite that Darcy was in love with her. So maybe she’d scared herself by being so open last night or maybe she was afraid she’d scared Andrea and driven her away. If that was true, if Darcy loved her and was covering it to ensure that she stayed, then maybe it was a good thing. She’d see what Julie had to say later. Feeling better, she picked up her book and sat near Darcy, reading, until Julie arrived.

  Darcy had dozed off listening to music, so Andrea leaned over her, removed the earbuds and lightly touched her cheek. “Darcy.”

  She opened her eyes. When she saw Andrea she smiled sweetly and her face seemed to fill with love.

  All Andrea’s doubts fled.

  “Hi Darcy.”

  Darcy’s eyes swung to Julie Castillo who was standing at the foot of the bed. “Dr. Castillo. Sorry, I was asleep. Nice to see you.”

  Julie laughed. “I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything else, but Dr. Trapani is worried about your heart.”

  Darcy’s eyes slid back to Andrea.

  “So I thought I’d come and listen myself, if that’s okay with you.”

  Darcy focused again on Dr. Castillo. “Thank you for the house call. It’s hard getting around these days. You’re having lunch with us too?”

  “Yes. And Carlo, I think his name is, said he would bring it up in fifteen minutes. So how about I get to work so we have some time to relax while we eat.”

  Andrea removed the blanket to allow Julie to take Darcy’s pressure.

  Julie looked at Darcy. “One seventy-five over eighty. Is this because you’re excited by my visit?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Andrea said. “It’s been in that range for a couple of days.” She lifted the scrub top so Julie could listen to Darcy’s
heart and the pulses in her stomach, her groin and her ankles. Then, Andrea and Julie raised Darcy so Julie could listen to her lungs.

  Julie put her stethoscope and pressure cuff away and sat next to Darcy. “I think I’ll add a diuretic to your medications, Darcy. You’ll pee more, but it should bring the pressure down. But I am worried about what I’m hearing in your heart. Do you remember what I told you after we put the stent in?”

  “No, but Dr. Trapani told me that you thought I’d eventually need bypass surgery.”

  “Right. Eventually may be sooner than we expected. I’d like to get you in the hospital to do an angiogram—”

  “I can’t deal with heart surgery now.”

  “You already had an angiogram when we put in the stent. It’s not surgery in the sense you mean, Darcy. We’ll give you a mild sedative, put a catheter in through your groin, then introduce dye, which flows through your arteries and shows the blockages. Unless there are complications, you’ll come home the same day.”

  “And if there are complications?”

  “Depending on what we find, we could put in another stent, or decide it can wait a while, or recommend immediate surgery.” Julie stood. “To be honest, Darcy, I would prefer to wait and do the bypass when the casts are gone and you’re walking. But we may not have the luxury of waiting.”

  Darcy’s eyes settled on Andrea.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll be with you all the way.”

  “I’d like to be in the wheelchair for lunch, so I can feel like a big girl.” Darcy’s joke broke the tension. Julie and Andrea lifted her into the wheelchair just as Carlo arrived with lunch. He set the dishes out on the bed trays and left.

  “So, Dr. Castillo, do you do the cutting?”

  “I do. Of course, you can have any surgeon you choose.”

  “Can Dr. Trapani be in the operating room with me?”

  “If she wants. What do you say, Andrea?”

  “I said I’d be there all the way and that includes the OR.” She held up a shrimp and Darcy opened her mouth.

  The three women chatted about vacations, beach vs. mountains, sunbathing vs. hiking, until Dr. Castillo received a reminder text from her assistant. “Sorry to cut this lovely lunch short, but duty calls.”

  “Come back any time, Doctor. I enjoyed spending time with you.”

  “Likewise. You two decide on the timing for the angio and call my office to schedule it.” She stood. “Please walk me to the stairs, Andrea.”

  “You can take the elevator,” Darcy said.

  “Thank you, but walking down the four flights of steps will be my only exercise this week.”

  When they reached the stairs, Julie hugged Andrea. “I would say you two are a match made in heaven and she’s definitely head over heels in love with you but trying to hide it.”

  “I think she scared both of us last night and now she’s decided if she wants me to stay she has to pretend she’s not in love. She thinks I’m straight, but I can live with that. I’ll feel better if we continue without any romantic commitments as long as we can.”

  “Well, neither of you is very good at hiding your feelings. At least it was obvious to me.”

  “That’s because you are the most wonderful, perceptive and loving friend a woman could ask for.”

  “I’d better go while I’m still held in such high esteem.” Julie kissed Andrea’s cheek and dashed down the steps.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Something had shifted for them. Darcy relaxed and didn’t push. Andrea relaxed and didn’t worry about setting limits. They settled into a comfortable routine of just being together. Every once in a while, their eyes met and the connection would flare between them, neither spoken nor denied, no commitments made, no promises given.

  They spent most days in the garden, eating lunch and dinner there unless Darcy was tired. Outside or in, Darcy listened to music or audio books, Andrea either read to Darcy or read her own books but still kept her lesbian books in the bedroom. They both loved to do crossword puzzles, so Andrea got a subscription to the New York Times crossword puzzle and they often worked on one together.

  It didn’t take Candace long to notice. She’d been out of town for a week on business and came by for lunch her first day back. She chattered away as usual, going on about the people she’d met and the places she’d been, but her eyes darted between them as Andrea fed Darcy. “Still in baby mode, I see?”

  Andrea’s hand paused midair, fearing Darcy would be hurt and lash out. But Darcy took the food off the fork, chewed and swallowed. She smiled at Candace. “And don’t you wish it were you?” She didn’t say whether she meant as the feeder or the fed.

  “What’s going on with you two? Something is different. You didn’t get engaged or married while I was away, did you?”

  They all laughed.

  “Nothing so dramatic, Candace. Dr. Castillo came to check me out and said my heart is pretty bad, so I’m trying to go with the flow, as they say, rather than go crazy and burst it.”

  Candace shook her head. “Uh-uh, Darcy, I know you. I can’t put my finger on it but there’s something. I’ll have to think about it.” She finished her lunch. Then, pleading a desk piled high after a week away, she left them alone.

  A little while later, Maria came out. She sat, clasped her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Candace was upset when she left, cara, she thinks something happened while she was away and you don’t tell her. I say Dr. Trapani takes good care of you and you feel happy again. It’s been a long time, no? But she insists there is a secret.”

  “No secret, Maria. You’re right. Dr. Trapani takes good care of me. I feel safe with her. And yes, she makes me happy.”

  “That’s what I told her, but you know how she gets when she’s jealous.”

  “You think she’s jealous, zia?”

  “Yes, always when you have something she doesn’t. No matter how we love her.” She kissed Darcy’s forehead, patted Andrea’s arm and rolled the cart with the dirty dishes back to the kitchen.

  Darcy stared after her. “Interesting.”

  “Maria and Carlo seem to really care about you. How long have they been with you?”

  “All my life, but longer with my parents.”

  “Really? Why don’t they live in, you certainly have the room?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Andrea’s eyes sparkled. “It’s about time you entertained me.”

  Darcy nodded, then took a few minutes to collect her thoughts. “My father was a pilot in the air force during World War II and he was shot down over Italy. Maria and Carlo were fifteen-year-olds in the Italian Resistance when they found him bleeding and barely alive after his plane crashed. They hid him and nursed him back to health. There was no way for him to get back to the American troops so when he was able, he joined them and the three of them fought side by side until the Americans invaded Italy. It was during this time he met my mother who was also a teenager and part of the Resistance. But she didn’t live in the mountains and fight the way Maria and Carlo did. She was a member of the aristocracy and continued to live in her villa and carry on with her life, but she gathered information and smuggled food, medical supplies and messages to the fighters. The four of them became friends.”

  She cleared her throat. “Water, please.” She sipped, then continued.

  “My dad was older than the three of them, but after the war my mom, Francesca, married my dad, who, it turned out, was also from a wealthy family. Dad insisted they bring Maria and Carlo to live in New York but my mom fought him. You see, Maria and Carlo were uneducated peasants, scratching a living out of the small piece of land they had, while my parents were both educated and, let’s not forget, wealthy. However, being a good guy and feeling eternally grateful for all they had done for him, he brought them over anyway. Neither spoke English well and they had difficulty finding jobs so Dad decided Maria would cook and Carlo would drive him and work around the yard. Mom put her foot down. She didn’t
want these nearly illiterate peasants living in her house as if they were relatives. Dad had just completed a high-rise apartment building around the corner and he gave them an apartment. He told them it came furnished but I think Maria eventually figured out that he paid for everything.

  “He sounds like a great guy.”

  “He was. And mom wasn’t as bad as she sounds, but when she grew up peasants didn’t socialize with the upper classes. Of course, things were different during the war and in America. Mom gave in to Dad, but insisted on hiring one of Italy’s top chefs to train Maria to cook more than pasta and teach the two of them the proper way to serve. She eventually relaxed and learned to love them. And they were devoted to her, which is why the three of us were able to care for her at home when she was sick.”

  “Did they teach you to speak Italian?”

  “Actually, being peasants, Maria and Carlo only spoke a dialect, not Italian. When I turned three, Dad brought in an Italian teacher and the three of us, and later Candace, learned to read, write and speak Italian together. Mom, Maria and Carlo always spoke Italian when Candace and I were around, but Dad spoke to us in English, so we grew up bilingual.”

  “Why didn’t Maria and Carlo move in and take care of you? I’m sure they would have in a second.”

  “They wanted to. But they’re in their eighties and I didn’t want to stress them, so we compromised. They would cook and run the house with support staff but stay in their apartment. And Gerri would continue to live here and oversee the agency people she brought in to care for me.”