Page 8 of Remembering You
I blinked, confused. “Clean up?”
“Yeah.” Sheila gestured to my body, dragging her hand up and down in front of my face. “I mean, you’ll be meeting some of the doctors and nurses you’re going to be working with for the next few months. I assume you don’t want to go likethat.”
Like what? I looked down at my outfit. Admittedly, it wasn’t the nicest thing I owned, but all in all, I didn’t think I looked all that bad. “Um, well your—uh, Jim, took my bags already.” I shrugged. “So… guess I’m stuck in what I’ve got.” Besides, what asshole would judge me for what I’m wearing coming in for an emergency x-ray?
Sheila clicked her tongue and nodded. “Damn. Well, if you want to put your hair up in a bun and put on some lipstick, you can use mine.” She dug through her purse and handed me a hair tie, travel mirror, and a tube of lipstick. “Put a little on your cheeks too. It can work as blush. Then we can go”
Reluctantly, I reached across the table and took them from Sheila. I could barely walk… but I guess makeup was a priority for Sheila? When in Rome, I guess. If this got me on my director’s good side? Then, hell, why not, right?
* * *
“Ma?”Steve’s voice pulled her back from her memories as he came out of the exam room with Yvonne by his side. She held a shoebox in hand and they both looked surprised to see Marty there.
“Hey kiddo,” she stood up, handing Steve the other coffee and bag of croissants. “Brought these for you.” She leaned in hugging Yvonne, careful to do so around the box. Knowing Yvonne, she had rescued some animal in need. “If I’d known I’d be so lucky to see you both here, I would have brought more coffee.”
Steve smiled, leaning back with an exaggerated satiated groan. “Oh, my God. Best. Mom. Ever.” He took a big bite of the croissant, looking at his fiancé and smiling through chewing. “I’d offer to share, but it’s too damn good,” he said, his mouth full.
Yvonne smiled, her nose scrunching with the giggle and pinched his arm. “Come on, not even one bite?”
He shook his head no. “I have back to back appointments and a neuter scheduled for right after lunch.”
Marty scrunched her nose. “File that under too much information.”
Little flecks of bread spilled over his lips as Steve took a bite of the croissant. “Oh, please,” he said, talking with his mouth full. “You’re a scrub nurse. You used to come home all the time and tell us horrific stories of your surgeries.”
Marty laughed. “But none of them involved cutting out testes.”
Steve held up a finger. “Not true. There was that prostate cancer patient.”
Playfully, she swatted at his shoulder. “Shut up. I never told you about any cancer patients.”
“Nah.” He put dropped the half-eaten croissant back into the paper bag with a sheepish grin and handed it to Yvonne with a wink, kissing her gently on her nose. “But it was a good guess. There must have been at least one, right?”
Marty laughed, sighing and shook her head.Could I be any luckier? I’ve got five of the best kids. All grown up now… or at least mostly grown up, with my youngest twins being just out of college… and I’m lucky enough to call them my friends as well.
“What did you save today, Yvonne?”
She sighed, lifting the lid, poked with holes off of the shoebox. “A turtle. The poor thing got run over by a kid on his bicycle. He brought it right to me, crying, begging me to save it.” When she put her hand in, the turtle ducked back into its shell.
“Is he going to be okay?” Marty asked leaning over the box for a better look.
Yvonne shrugged. “It’s too early to tell.”
“He has a broken leg, but the fractured shell is the most worrisome part,” Steve said. “Unlike snails, he can’t just go find a new shell. So, we need it to heal and in the meantime, we need to administer antibiotics to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
Marty’s heart ached. “Aww, poor little guy. How the heck do you even give a turtle antibiotics?”
Yvonne sighed. “It’s not easy. We’re going to try liquid medicine, but it’s hard to get them to take it. We had to inject the first dose into his bad leg.”
“Makes it easier that the broken leg can’t retreat into his shell. Poor little Michelangelo,” Steve said and stroked his finger across the edge of the shell.
Marty smirked at that. “You always did love those turtle ninjas.”
“Ninja Turtles, Ma.” Steve flashed a smile and sent her a wink.
“Either way, he’s awfully cute. If you need help taking care of him, let me know.”
“Really?” Yvonne said, perking up. “You wouldn’t mind? Our dogs are all over the poor thing and I’m worried it will stress him out being at the shelter or at our home with our other animals.”
