High C

19. Maybe Angels

At St. Michael's Hospital, Bob was assessed by the triage nurse who then sent everyone to the ER waiting room telling them to "get comfy."

The room wasn't packed per se, but who knew what the doctors and nurses were dealing with in the examining room. Patients in the waiting area had more visible signs of injuries and discomfort than Bob and he felt guilty for taking up valuable time. When Natasha offered to go and get coffees for everyone, DeeDee volunteered to go in her place. Natasha insisted on going and taking Rodney with her. "To free up chairs,"she said. It was almost as if she wasn't even trying anymore.

Sure, they were both tired, but if a real girlfriend had left him at the ER to take a coffee break with her ex? Well, she could keep on going. Even though Bob was happier to sit and wait with DeeDee, he was starting to resent doing most of the work.

He was sitting close to a mother trying to ease the worry of her two young children, a boy and a girl, with reassuring words her own eyes doubted. He leaned over and said, "My friend is making a coffee run. You kids look like you could use a good cup of joe." They stared at him blankly. "No? Maybe just your mom then? How about a doughnut or a crispy treat?"

The children looked at their mother.

"That's very kind of you," she said, "but I'm afraid we've already had enough chocolate from the vending machines."

"What about you?" Bob asked.

"We're waiting to be called in to see my husband. We might not be here when your friend gets back."

"It's no trouble."

"Okay. Sure, a regular coffee would be nice, thank you."

Bob lifted his chin to get Natasha's attention, but she'd heard. "Coming right up," she said with an obliging smile before leaving through the sliding doors with Rodney.

"I hope your husband's going to be okay. Not going to be long, that is," DeeDee said carefully for the children's sake.

"He fell off the ladder trying to fix some Christmas lights and hit his head pretty bad. He's conscious, but we want to make sure he doesn't have a concussion."

"He probably thought Santa needed a little extra help spotting your house," Bob said to the children.

DeeDee added, "And here you are being so patient for your mummy. You're bound to be on the extra nice list this year."

"If you two could put in a good word for me, that'd be great."

The little girl looked at Bob and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"Gee, where do I start? I snore when I sleep. I don't floss. I didn't do my taxes this year and I don't like dogs."

"It's true," DeeDee said, "but he's very fond of cats."

"And I'm clumsy. I fell down a giant slide and hurt my arm. Too bad, too. This is my high-fiving hand. Try to give me one." He raised and lowered his arm, keeping his wrist limp, and managed to coax a little smile out of both children. "See? Doesn't work. How am I supposed to high-five you when the doc says your dad is okay? Oh well, I guess I'll think of something. Maybe I'll just make a face."

Bob pulled a few silly faces which got the kids to laugh and start making faces at each other. DeeDee whispered to him, "You, sir, are full of beans."

"What?"

"All that kitchen-talk about labels and being who you say you are. You have a lot of opinions you don't stick to."

"You mean them?" he said, nodding discreetly to the children.