Page 65 of Learning at 40

“I have, but it feels like a lifetime ago.”

I nod for her to sit, and she takes a seat at the kitchen table as I open the wine bottle and pour us each a glass.

“But I’m not here for Zack,” she repeats. “Although he mentioned what happened. He’s an idiot. It’s none of my business, though, but if you’d like to talk, I can listen as well.”

The door is open for the truth, and I feel a little nauseous, but I need her to know it. “I wasn’t married, and I’m sorry I said I was.”

She doesn’t seem at all shocked by my revelation. Tipping her head, she asks, “Why did you then?”

“It was easier than explaining the truth.”

Anna waves a hand in a circle, signaling I should continue with my tale.

“Dennis Quincy was my patient. The prognosis was bleak; however, his spirit was strong. My God, that man was stubborn, but in his advanced age, his body wouldn’t handle surgery. He didn’t want to end his days in some vegetative state. He’d gone blind, and he liked me to read to him. He said I had a soothing voice.” I chuckle with the memory. My voice is scratchy, but Quincy complimented me often on it. He said it brought him peace.

“He asked me to marry him.” I laugh a little. “I thought he was joking. An old man trying to be flirtatious is risky in our days of hashtag me too, but I let it pass because he was innocent enough. What was he going to do to me? Then one day, he told me he was serious. He wanted to gift me something, and he thought it best if I was his wife. I couldn’t agree. I declined.” It’s actually against most codes of ethics for a nurse to receive something substantial as recompense for simply doing my job. But Quincy wasn’t a job for me. He reminded me so much of my grandfather minus the snarky tongue, or maybe at times, because of it.

Anna softly smiles. “It’s still a little romantic.”

I suppose it could have been, had I been even remotely attracted to my patient, but I wasn’t. Still, it was sweet.

“Then he tried to tip me. He wanted to reward me for my service. I refused again. I couldn’t accept money, and I didn’t need it. I wasn’t being kind out of some obligation. I liked the old coot, even if I didn’t agree with the way he’d lived his life. Who was I to judge him? We all make mistakes.” Sometimes people make bigger ones than others, like Quincy’s experience as a father or Zack’s dad. “He’d alienated his own children, and then he wanted them back.”

Anna nods.

“When he died, I was terribly sad. I had a fondness for the man, but I wasn’t having relations with him. I wasn’t in love with him. He was an old man who had charmed me into liking him. He reminded me of my grandfather, a man I did love dearly.” My voice cracks mentioning the comparison.

Anna softly smiles. “I don’t know how you do it. I’ve lost Ben, who was the love of my life, but it still must be difficult to lose multiple patients. One person was enough for me.”

Anna is correct. It was never easy to lose a patient, but they also weren’t my family. I’d already lost someone important to me from the disease I worked amongst. I was conditioned to separate myself just enough, so the travesty of my profession didn’t completely drag me under. Still, it hurt. Each loss chipped at my heart.

“Quincy’s children came forward and accused me of manipulating their father once the will was read. Trust me, no one was more shocked than me. I didn’t even understand why I’d been invited to attend the reading. I almost didn’t go, arguing with the attorney who represented Quincy that it was a family matter. The attorney told me I’d want to be present. The accusations flew. Daniel, Quincy’s eldest, can really sling the insults.” I blow out a breath. “Eventually, the hospital had concerns, as they termed it, and I was asked to leave. If I left without a scene, I could quit versus being fired, but I was essentially let go. The Quincy Corporation was a major contributor to the hospital.”

“And that’s why you decided to move here.”

“I moved here because I’d inherited a run-down house with tons of potential, but yes, I had no reason to stay in Grand Rapids as I’d lost my job. I needed the change. Working with children had less risk than working with the elderly from a personal position. The difficulty is that losing a child is so much harder.”

I consider Jessica, my young patient who had a difficult night. She’s why I decided to take the double shift. When another nurse called in sick, I offered to stay. The sad truth was Jessica wasn’t going to make it. Her parents were taking her home soon.

“What you do is so remarkable,” Anna quietly says with awe, and the somber tone of this conversation pinches at my chest.

“But you didn’t come here to talk about me, and I just word-vomited all over you.”

“Better than real vomit,” she teases.

“I’ve had my experiences with that.”

“So have I.” She laughs before the sound fades to regret.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

Anna shakes her head and waves off the apology. “No need. I actually understand. That was too complicated to explain. Saying he was your husband kept it simple.”

“It doesn’t dispel the rumors, though, which is how Zack heard a sliver of the truth.”

“Zack misinterpreted what he heard, and then he overreacted.” Anna’s voice turns stern, even disappointed in her friend. I don’t want to discuss Zack, though. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, at first, I thought I wanted to talk about losing my husband. Does it get any easier? Will this ache in my chest ever subside? But now, I see that your case wasn’t quite like mine.” Anna sits up a little straighter and turns her head toward the front of the house. Maybe she’s thinking she should leave, but I don’t want her to go.