Girlfriend Gaff

Lucy and the kids returned for another visit on Sunday. May called during the visit, again using the hospital line. I told her I would call her back after they left.

That morning, a doctor told me that she had ordered a new CAT scan. No word on when they would send for me, but I had nothing but time to kill. I read and watched my IV drip.

Anna visited around six. She took off her coat, kissed me and sat on the bed. She was just examining my neck when a nurse showed up with a wheelchair. My CAT scan called.

I told Anna I would be back soon.

I was returned to my room about a half hour later. Anna was in her coat and holding her hat in her hands. She sat as erect as Mary Poppins. “How did it go?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said. “Do you have to go?”

“Yes,” she replied. “The phone rang while you were away. Your girlfriend called.”

May was still referring to herself as my girlfriend. Anna got to hear that.

This put Anna and me in the position of having that conversation we so often have. Yes, I am seeing other women. No, I don’t have a girlfriend. No, I don’t want a girlfriend. She asks the questions, I offer succinct answers.

I offered the further elaboration that this “girlfriend” now lived in California and we were not seeing each other. I felt like some lying jerk in a movie.

I offered to walk Anna to the elevator. She was capable of walking by herself, thanks.

I sat for a few minutes, stewing. A nurse hooked me up to my IV.

I returned May’s call. Another hour of news about life and new job.

I phoned Anna to apologize. It’s no problem, she said. We understand each other. Just get better—I want to see you away from that hospital.