Wishing for Wonderful (Serendipity #3)(50)

Three tries later he got Marjorie Elkins, the third floor night nurse.

“I’m trying to get some information about Eleanor Barrow,” he said. “She’s the patient in room 317.”

Marjorie had a blinding headache and a bunion that had throbbed for five days straight. She was counting the minutes until the end of her shift so she could go home and crawl into bed. She could barely tolerate the demanding patients and had absolutely no tolerance for impatient callers. She glanced down the list of patients, spotted the woman’s name then replied, “She’s stable.” It was an answer she used often, one people generally could accept. It suggested the patient was doing fine and didn’t offer the promise of anything that might not be possible.

Since this was Ray’s fifth telephone call to the hospital, he was also short on patience and long on attitude.

“Not enough,” he said sharply. “I want to know what’s wrong with her.”

“That’s something you’ll have to discuss with her doctor.”

“Who is her doctor?”

Marjorie flipped open the chart again. “Doctor Shameer. He’s not on duty this evening, but I can transfer you to his voicemail.”

“Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong with her?”

Marjorie’s head was killing her, and listening to this arrogant jerk wasn’t helping matters.

“No, I can’t,” she snapped irritably, “and even if I wanted to, there’s a little thing called the patient privacy law.”

“I’m Ray Barrow, her son!”

“Your name is not on the list of those authorized to receive patient information.”

“Whose name is on the list?”

“I’m not allowed to give you that information.”

“This is going nowhere,” he griped. “Just tell Eleanor Barrow to call her son.”

“Okay.” Marjorie hung up the telephone and started to scribble the message on a sticky note, but before she finished writing Winifred Willkie’s alarm went off and made it look like she was flat lining.

“Good grief!” Marjorie exclaimed and went scurrying down the hall. As it turned out the woman had simply disconnected herself from the monitor because she had to go to the bathroom, but her roommate claimed that she indeed was having severe pains in her chest. When Marjorie finally returned to the nursing station, Ray’s message had long since been forgotten.





Traci, who’d been visiting her parents in Hoboken, arrived home shortly after midnight. She walked in and found Ray standing beside the wall phone in their kitchen.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Waiting for Mom to call,” he answered. “She’s in the hospital…” He explained how he’d heard the crash and finally learned that she was at Jefferson University Hospital.

“The problem,” he said, “is that they won’t give me any information about her condition. For all I know—”

“Why didn’t you just go to the hospital and ask her?”

“It was too late by the time I found out. They wouldn’t even put my call through.” When Ray spoke he no longer had the squint of scorn he’d begun to use when talking about his mother. His eyebrows were pinched together, and ridges of worry lined his forehead.

Traci walked over, leaned against his chest and hooked her arms around his neck. “If you’re worried about your mom, why don’t you give John Gray a call? He probably knows—”

“I’ve already tried,” he said. “I even drove over there, but nobody’s home.”

That’s when Traci knew Ray was honestly concerned about his mother. After the Labor Day cookout, he’d sworn he’d never again speak to John Gray or any member of his family. “That includes Mom, if she goes ahead with this marriage,” he’d said. But now he’d not just called, he’d actually gone to John’s house.

“What exactly did your mom say in her last message?”

Ray replayed the message on the answering machine.

“She says she’s alright,” Traci said trying to comfort him. “Maybe she just went in for something simple like cosmetic surgery—”

“Mom?”

Traci had to admit such a thing was highly unlikely. She pressed her cheek to Ray’s chest. “Try not to worry, honey. We’ll go visit Mom first thing in the morning.”





That night Ray tossed and twisted, uncomfortable and ill at ease no matter what way he turned. The two times he did doze off he dreamt of his father and woke feeling another shade guiltier. When the clock ticked off four-thirty, he mumbled, “If Mom is okay I’m gonna make it up to her, I swear I will.” Since Traci was sound asleep, his were the only human ears that heard the promise.

Of course I heard it, but I debated about whether or not I believed it. I’ve heard many such promises before, but humans have a way of forgetting vows. They pray please give me this or that and I’ll never ask for another thing. Unfortunately a day or two after they get what they want, they move on to wanting something else and the promise they made is all but forgotten. Not all humans are this way, but I always feel a sense of sadness when I come across one who is.

~

Although visiting hours did not start until ten, Ray and Traci circumvented the registration desk and snuck upstairs at eight-thirty. They waited until the nurses at the third floor desk were busy, then quietly slipped down the hall and into Room 317.