"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing… not healing, not curing… that is a friend who cares." -Henri Nouwen
Joan called for a radiation appointment and found she already had one, including a bed in the on-call room after. She thanked Dr. Evans, Howard, Julie, Ace, and Maria, but they looked at her like her brain and not her hair was falling out. Out of other options, she asked Eve.
"Glad it worked out."
"You arranged it?"
Eve didn't try to deny it. "A side effect of radiation is fatigue. I didn't want you to have to drive home. You'd never ask Bud to leave his TV. Asking you to take time off work was useless. I did the next best thing."
"How?"
"I'm going for drinks with Harold Stickley."
"You lost your mind?"
"I'm taking one for the team."
It made no sense to Joan. "You never ask how I am, never push me to talk or do your worst to try to make me laugh."
"That's what you said you wanted. Why bother with talk? I waited until I could do something."
"Like going out with Stickley?"
Eve nodded, her expression glum.
"Can't let you do that."
"Didn't ask you."
"It's too much."
"No, Joan. You're wrong. We're friends. It's not nearly enough, but it's a start."