“We’re here to see Charlotte Bolling. Charlotte Tavert,” her father said.
“Oh hi,” the woman said, extending her hand toward her father to shake, then shaking her mother’s hand in turn. She shook with energy; Knox could see the tendons and muscles shift in her slim arm as she moved it. This is a woman with a regular squash game, Knox thought. She allowed herself to imagine the woman’s life, her virginal stint at Yale Med School, cradling heavy books in her arms as she walked across a quad, her Dorothy Hamill hair gleaming in the sun. She remembered, as if remembering a taste, how to make Charlotte laugh. It rushed back to her. She would say something about the nurse. Charlotte would snicker and say something like Yes, she’s a walking seventies hair commercial. The kind of joke they used to have together, when Knox was a kid.
The woman nodded at Knox, who brushed a drop of rain from the side of her face.
“You’re Charlotte’s family,” she said, stating the fact with self-satisfaction, as if she had invented Knox and her parents herself.
“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go check. If she’s in the recovery room, you might be able to go down and sneak a peek at her.”
“That would be great. Thanks,” Knox said. She felt a need to reassert her presence, her age. To hear her own voice.
“Can you tell us anything? Is everyone all right?” her mother said.
“Are you the doctor,” her father said.
The woman smiled again. “Intern,” she said. “As far as I know, everything’s gone smoothly. You know things started to move quickly once your daughter got here. We thought at first that she’d be in triage for much longer. I’ll go check. I’ll send Dr. Boyd up if I can.”
“Thank you,” her father said. “Thanks very much.”
The woman pushed the file drawer closed and moved down the hall, away from the direction Knox and her parents had come in. The shoes she was wearing made loud squishing sounds on the linoleum that Knox could still hear once she’d turned the corner.
“Would you guys like something? I could go see if there’s a vending machine,” Knox said.
“No, but get yourself something to drink,” her mother said. “Absolutely. We’ll be here.”
“All right,” Knox said.
She left her pack on the floor by her father’s feet and walked back toward the wooden cages. There was a public phone hanging on the wall there. It was mounted low over the chairs, so low that Knox had to kneel on one of the smallest chairs—a red one obviously meant for a preschooler—in order to dial comfortably. Marlene picked up on the first ring.
“You expecting a call?” Knox said.
“Well, hello,” Marlene said. Her voice was so full of warmth that Knox felt first surprised, then shamed. She wished for a moment that she could just be calling to say hi, that she phoned Marlene at home more often, for reasons that weren’t related to students or scheduling.
“What’re you doing,” she said.
“Oh, Jimmy’s got the football on. I’m sitting here bored out of my mind. I feel like the season’s closing in on me. Seems like it starts in June now and just never ends.”
“Guess where I am,” Knox said.
“Where.”
“New York. My sister’s having the babies.” Knox swallowed. She felt suddenly, terribly, far away from her life.
“Oh! Oh hon, that’s wonderful. That’s wonderful! But—it’s a little early, isn’t it? I guess twins usually are. Is everything okay?”
“Yep, looks like it. But Mar, I’m sorry, I won’t be back for a couple of days,” Knox said. “I just wasn’t thinking and I got on a plane to come up here. So I wanted to ask you to cover for me if it’s all right. The reports I’ve been working on, I got through T so there’re only a couple left, I’ve been doing them alphabetically—”
“What is wrong with you?” Marlene said. “Just enjoy yourself, I know what to do. What kind of person apologizes for being with family at a time like this?”
“A responsible educator like me, I guess,” Knox said.
“Oh, is that what you are.”
“It takes one to know one, so maybe you wouldn’t understand.”
“What I understand is that being around babies is a good thing for you right now. I’m ready to become a godmother. Lord, I thought you were calling to tell me you’d run off with Ned. Maybe I’m disappointed.”