"Mrs. Walsh, tell me what you don't like about yourself."
Grace watched with interest as Christian talked to Gloria Walsh, a woman in her late forties who had checked the "divorced" box on her application form, but who still touched her ring finger every now and then, subconsciously rubbing the spot where her wedding band used to be every time she got uneasy. Grace took her eyes off Mrs. Walsh to glance at Christian's notes: he was working quickly as the patient talked, outlining the flaws she was pointing out and the changes she wanted to make. Deep furrows around her mouth, baggy eyelids, crow's feet… Grace turned her attention back to the other woman's face, more specifically to what seemed to be a birthmark on her chin, a small shade resembling a half moon. Nothing that would by itself require plastic surgery, yet it struck her as odd that a woman who was pretty much remodeling her entire face wouldn't ask to have that birthmark removed as well.
"Is that all?" Christian asked when Mrs. Walsh stopped talking, and Grace noticed that he had drawn a small half moon close to the chin of the outlined face, with an interrogation mark next to it.
"Yes," Mrs. Walsh said quietly, her crossed hands resting on her lap.
"Mrs. Walsh," Grace chimed in, "have you discussed this surgery with anyone? Family, friends…" -- she hesitated slightly -- "… boyfriend?"
"No," Mrs. Walsh said tersely, her right thumb starting to lightly rub the base of her index finger.
"I see," Grace said, nodding. "You know, sometimes it helps to listen to…"
"I have listened for twenty five years," the other woman cut her off edgily. "I've put myself on hold for twenty five years; for twenty five years I… " -- she sniffed and Christian perked up, alarmed -- "I just want to…" -- her voice cracked and Grace promptly took a tissue out of the box sitting on Christian's desk and handed it to her, ignoring Christian's horrified what-have-you-done look.
While Grace coaxed the older woman to talk about her messy divorce, her workaholic daughter, the two-year-old grandson whom she almost never sees, Christian looked from one woman to the other, wondering why in the bloody blue hell Grace had opened such a can of worms. But he had said that he'd give her space to work, so, true to his words, he just sat there and silently watched the interplay between the two women.
Christian soon realized that, by turning his chair slightly to the right and leaning back on it, he could gaze at Grace and still look like he was paying attention to Mrs. Walsh's babbling. It wasn't long before he lost track of their talk, and when the gentle pressure of the sole of Grace's foot upon his brought him back from a very pleasant reverie about a certain birthmark that he had previously discovered on her own body, he was relieved to see that Mrs. Walsh's eyes were dry albeit a little puffy, and that she was smiling.
"… mostly indoor work," Mrs. Walsh was saying, "so it won't be a problem if my face is still swollen and bruised. But the art exhibit opening will take place in two months, and I'd like to be there for Miriam. Do you think that I'll look fine by then, Dr. Troy?" she asked, turning to Christian.
"Absolutely," Christian said without missing a beat, even as he wondered who Miriam was.
"Wonderful," she said, beaming. "So, can we schedule it?"
"Sure," Christian said, standing up. "If you follow me to the lobby, I'll have my secretary schedule a date at your convenience."
"Okay," Mrs. Walsh said as she and Grace stood up, too. "And, Dr. Santiago," she said, turning to Grace with a grateful smile, "thank you so much."
"You're welcome," Grace, smiling back at her.
"Is there a chance…" -- the older woman hesitated -- "I mean, could I… can I have another consultation with you before the surgery?"
Christian sensed Grace's hesitation -- she normally didn't get to see the patients again after the first interview -- and quickly answered on her behalf:
"Fran keeps track of Dr. Santiago's agenda as well," he said, gently leading Mrs. Walsh to the door. "Just tell her that you want to schedule another consultation with her alone."
Grace raised her eyebrows inquisitively at him behind Mrs. Walsh's back and couldn't help but smile when he gave her his most innocent look and then moved to open the door for Mrs. Walsh with a charming smile.
- x x x x x x x x x x -
"Was it too obvious that I wasn't paying attention in the end?" Christian asked once he and Grace were out of ear reach, having said good-bye to Mrs. Walsh in the lobby.
"Only because I was half expecting you not to be," Grace assured him with a smile. "I don't think she noticed, or I'd have stepped on your foot earlier. By the way," she added, entering the break room as he opened the door for her, "thank you for backing me up even when you didn't know where I was going."
"You're welcome," Christian said, following her into the room. "So, will you now tell me what that was all about?"
"Oh, you know," she said offhandedly, sitting at the table, "just standard hocus pocus."
Christian stopped in the process of opening the fridge and eyeballed her, and she added, grinning:
"Sorry. I just couldn't help it."
"Peach or lemon, smart aleck?" he asked with a smirk, showing her the two Ice Tea cans.
"Peach, please."
Christian handed her a can of Ice Tea and a plastic cup, and popped a can open for himself before he sat across the table from her, giving her an inquisitive look.
"I was wondering why Mrs. Walsh didn't ask you to remove that birthmark on her chin," Grace explained, sobering, "and it occurred to me that, unlike the other things that she wanted you to fix, that birthmark has nothing to do with her age. Mrs. Walsh doesn't want to look like any twenty-year-old woman; she wants to look like herself at the age of twenty. This surgery isn't as much about being beautiful as it is about being young."
"So what?" Christian said, shrugging. "Most women of her age come here wanting to get their youth back."
"Except that you can't give it back to them," Grace pointed out.
"Excuse me?" he said, arching his eyebrows.
"You can make them look young, Christian," Grace said, "but you can't make them actually be young again. Mrs. Walsh has reached a point in her life where she is looking back and wondering where the last twenty-five years have gone," she explained. "Her husband has left her for another woman, she can't seem to connect to her only daughter, she doesn't have a career, or a hobby, or a purpose in life whatsoever."
She took a sip of her Ice Tea and proceeded:
"What she wants -- and no plastic surgery can give her -- is to be twenty again, to be young and bold, feeling that anything is possible and that her entire life lies ahead of her."
"Then I guess she's in for some major disappointment," Christian muttered.
Grace blinked and watched him intently, his dark tone not going unnoticed by her.
"Not necessarily," she said gently. "She's not so old that she can't restart her life. She has a degree in Business Administration, and a sister who owns an art gallery who has offered her partnership once. Her relationship with her daughter isn't so strained that it can't be mended. And," she added with a smile, "this surgery will be good for her self-esteem."
"So, the surgery will help, after all?" he said, cocking one eyebrow.
"She needs something that will serve as benchmark," Grace said, "something that says 'this is the point where my life takes a turn'. And just because I, personally, would have settled with a new haircut, it doesn't mean that she shouldn't find her own way to celebrate the beginning of her new life. As long as she doesn't see this surgery -- or anything else for the matter -- as the magic formula that will give her back everything that she's lost during the last twenty five years, and if she starts taking some tangible measures to change her life and not just her looks…" -- she smiled and raised her cup of Ice Tea in a good-humored toast -- "I say, go for it, girl."
Christian chuckled slightly, while she brought her cup to her lips and drank the rest of the Ice Tea.
"This consultation turned out to be longer than usual, though," Grace commented, resting the cup on the table again. "Is this a problem?"
"Not really," Christian said. "I only have another consult in…" -- he checked his watch -- "twenty minutes. Will you be there?"
"No," she said, looking slightly disappointed. "Sean and I will be interviewing another patient at the same time."
"You know," Christian said, leaning back on his chair, "there's no real reason why Sean and I should be giving consults at the same time. It's too late now to reschedule these two patients, but I'll talk to Fran and tell her not to schedule two consultations at the same time again."
"Won't it be any trouble?" Grace asked.
"I can talk to the patients while Sean is operating and vice versa. Unless, of course, you'd rather talk to them alone."
"Not wanting to sound greedy," she said with a smirk, "I'd rather have the best of both worlds: I'd love to have some time alone with the patients like I'm gonna do with Mrs. Walsh, but I also find it very enlightening to watch their interaction with you and Dr. McNamara."
"That can be arranged," Christian said with a smile. "We can tell Fran to schedule your one-on-one consultations forwhen Sean and I are operating together."
"That'll be great," she said, smiling back at him. "Also…" -- she paused, giving him a tentative look -- "while we're at it, is it okay if I schedule yet another consultation with the patients after the surgery?"
"You mean, like a follow up?"
"Exactly."
"Well…" -- Christian hesitated -- "Are you sure you can squeeze that many extra consultations in your schedule?"
"I can handle it," she said, nodding. "Trust me."
"I do," he said without thinking. The weight of his words hit them both at the same time, and there was an awkward silence until Christian cleared his throat and said: "I'll have to talk to Sean first, but I don't think he'll have a problem with that."
"Thank you," Grace said.
They finished their Ice Teas in silence and then Christian asked out of the blue:
"Have you ever watched a surgery?"
"Uh… I had an impacted wisdom tooth extracted when I was seventeen," she said, tilting her head to the side and giving him a puzzled look. "Does that count?"
"Not really," he said with a smile.
Grace gave him an inquisitive look and he explained:
"When we hired Dr. Pendleton -- the guy who preceded you in this job -- Sean suggested that he watch a surgery; he thought it might help Pendleton understand the context in which…" -- Christian sighed theatrically and waved his hand in the air -- "yada yada yada, lots of big words, I'm sure you get the picture."
"I do," Grace said, giggling. "And if you're afraid that I'm gonna faint at the sight of blood…"
"Pendleton did."
"Well, I won't," she stated. "I took First Aid training, CPR and AED. I once applied a tourniquet to the nearly severed arm of a guy who had been bitten by a moray eel: I can assure you that blood doesn't freak me out."
"Okay," Christian said, shooting her a wary look, "I'm gonna skip the part where I ask why on Earth you would want to learn how to use an automated external defibrillator -- or any kind defibrillator for that matter -- and just ask where did you find a freaking moray eel."
"In Key Largo," Grace said. She smiled, almost hearing the little wheels spinning in his head as comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Yep, I do scuba diving."
"You do scuba diving," he said, fascinated. Her smile widened and he realized that his stunned expression probably looked rather silly. "I'm sorry," he added with a sheepish grin, "you just never struck me as the scuba diving kind."
"Well," she said, good-naturedly, "I am."
Grace glanced at her watch and realized with surprise that twenty minutes had passed since the end of Mrs. Walsh's consultation. "Our patients must be here by now," she said, unwillingly standing up and picking up the empty Ice Tea can and her cup.
"Right," Christian said as he, too, stood up. "After I talk to mine," he said while they threw the cans and the cups in the trashcan, "I'll make sure Fran schedules him for a consultation with you."
"Thanks," Grace said, as they left the break room. She spotted Sean talking to a young woman who she presumed was their 3 pm consultation, and increased her pace to catch up with them, while Christian went to the lobby to see if his patient was already there.