not so surprisingly—Patience left for the hospital without him. The hastily scrawled note pinned to the coffeemaker said she needed to stop at the tea shop to buy Ana her Russian caravan tea. “A reasonable excuse,” he said to Nigel. But the tea shop was only a block away, and in the direction of the hospital. He would have gladly waited while she ran her errand.
No, more likely, she wanted to avoid being in the car with him. For him to care about her decision was silly, but care he did. Why didn’t she want to ride with him?
Unfortunately, any answer had to wait because when he arrived at the hospital, his aunt was awake. Someone had raised her bed so she was sitting upright. Patience stood by her head, brushing out her hair. Stuart watched as her arm moved with long, slow strokes, each pass banishing the tangles of hospitalization. “Do you want to leave the braid down or wear it coiled?” he heard her ask.
“Coiled,” Ana replied. “Of course.”
He smiled. His aunt always insisted on looking as regal as possible. She was wearing the serenest of expressions. Her eyes were closed and the hint of a smile played across her lips. For the first time since he’d come home, she resembled the Ana he remembered.
His chest squeezed tight, his heart and lungs suddenly too big for his body. He was afraid to cough lest he spoil his aunt’s moment.
“Good morning.” The moment ended anyway, as Dr. Tischel, Ana’s primary care physician boomed his greeting from behind his shoulder.
“Lapushka!”
Ana greeted with a smile. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long. I didn’t want to disturb your beauty session.” He locked eyes with Patience only to have her break the gaze and resume brushing. “How are you this morning, Tetya?” He kissed Ana’s cheek.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “How am I, Karl?”
“Remarkably lucky, for one thing. You’re too old to be rolling down staircases. We all are.”
All the more reason not to stare at women two-thirds your age, thought Stuart. The good doctor’s gaze had locked itself to a spot below Patience’s neck. The housekeeper had angled her body toward the wall, but that didn’t stop the man’s blatant assessment.
“Will she be able to go home soon?” Stuart asked in a loud voice, drawing the man’s attention. A question to which he already knew the answer, but then he wasn’t asking because he wanted information.
“I’m afraid not,” the doctor replied. The man didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. “You took a nasty fall, Ana.”
He lifted the sheet from where it covered the upper part of her legs. On the leg without a cast, a large bruise turned Ana’s kneecap purple. Dr. Tischel touched around it, causing Ana to wince.
“Knee’s pretty tender,” he said, stating the obvious. “You’re definitely going to have to stay off your feet for a little while.”
“Are we talking about a wheelchair?” Stuart asked. He was having trouble imaging his great-aunt managing crutches as the moment.
“At the very least,” the doctor replied. “For a little while anyway.”
“Don’t worry,” Patience said. “I’ll push you around the house.”
“Oh no, the brownstone has way too many stairs,” Dr. Tishcel said. “That’s what got you in trouble in the first place. The rehab hospital has a terrific orthopedics wing. They’ll take good care of you.”
“What?” In spite of her pain, Ana stiffened. “You’re sending me to another hospital? For how long?”
“Depends,” Dr. Tischel replied. “At least a couple of weeks.”
“A couple weeks!” Patience and Ana spoke at the same time, although he was pretty sure their furor was for two different reasons. Stuart tensed at the announcement himself, and he’d been expecting the news since the day Ana fell. Two weeks sharing a house with Patience. Alone.
“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Tischel replied. “We want to make sure that ankle heals properly.
No, more likely, she wanted to avoid being in the car with him. For him to care about her decision was silly, but care he did. Why didn’t she want to ride with him?
Unfortunately, any answer had to wait because when he arrived at the hospital, his aunt was awake. Someone had raised her bed so she was sitting upright. Patience stood by her head, brushing out her hair. Stuart watched as her arm moved with long, slow strokes, each pass banishing the tangles of hospitalization. “Do you want to leave the braid down or wear it coiled?” he heard her ask.
“Coiled,” Ana replied. “Of course.”
He smiled. His aunt always insisted on looking as regal as possible. She was wearing the serenest of expressions. Her eyes were closed and the hint of a smile played across her lips. For the first time since he’d come home, she resembled the Ana he remembered.
His chest squeezed tight, his heart and lungs suddenly too big for his body. He was afraid to cough lest he spoil his aunt’s moment.
“Good morning.” The moment ended anyway, as Dr. Tischel, Ana’s primary care physician boomed his greeting from behind his shoulder.
“Lapushka!”
Ana greeted with a smile. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long. I didn’t want to disturb your beauty session.” He locked eyes with Patience only to have her break the gaze and resume brushing. “How are you this morning, Tetya?” He kissed Ana’s cheek.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “How am I, Karl?”
“Remarkably lucky, for one thing. You’re too old to be rolling down staircases. We all are.”
All the more reason not to stare at women two-thirds your age, thought Stuart. The good doctor’s gaze had locked itself to a spot below Patience’s neck. The housekeeper had angled her body toward the wall, but that didn’t stop the man’s blatant assessment.
“Will she be able to go home soon?” Stuart asked in a loud voice, drawing the man’s attention. A question to which he already knew the answer, but then he wasn’t asking because he wanted information.
“I’m afraid not,” the doctor replied. The man didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. “You took a nasty fall, Ana.”
He lifted the sheet from where it covered the upper part of her legs. On the leg without a cast, a large bruise turned Ana’s kneecap purple. Dr. Tischel touched around it, causing Ana to wince.
“Knee’s pretty tender,” he said, stating the obvious. “You’re definitely going to have to stay off your feet for a little while.”
“Are we talking about a wheelchair?” Stuart asked. He was having trouble imaging his great-aunt managing crutches as the moment.
“At the very least,” the doctor replied. “For a little while anyway.”
“Don’t worry,” Patience said. “I’ll push you around the house.”
“Oh no, the brownstone has way too many stairs,” Dr. Tishcel said. “That’s what got you in trouble in the first place. The rehab hospital has a terrific orthopedics wing. They’ll take good care of you.”
“What?” In spite of her pain, Ana stiffened. “You’re sending me to another hospital? For how long?”
“Depends,” Dr. Tischel replied. “At least a couple of weeks.”
“A couple weeks!” Patience and Ana spoke at the same time, although he was pretty sure their furor was for two different reasons. Stuart tensed at the announcement himself, and he’d been expecting the news since the day Ana fell. Two weeks sharing a house with Patience. Alone.
“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Tischel replied. “We want to make sure that ankle heals properly.
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