John Granger turned his head at a knock on his door. "It's just me," said a
female voice.
"Come on in, Margaret," he said, and his wife walked in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then seated herself beside the bed.
"How were things today?" he asked her.
"Not too bad. I was slightly concerned about a wisdom tooth I did today, but the girl came through the anesthetic just fine."
"Good, good." He cleared his throat. "I...had some visitors today."
"Oh, who? The Carters? I was talking to Caroline yesterday and she said...."
"Our daughter."
There was a pause.
"Hermione came to see you." Her voice was slightly disbelieving.
"Yes." He looked at her closely, reading body language and face. This wasn't going to be easy...the very mention of their daughter's name had brought up that simmering mix of hurt and anger he'd lived with for the last three months, easily visible to him on his wife's face.
"How is she?"
"She looked very good, very happy, much less stressed. I understand she's been living with her friend Ron's family."
"Good for her," his wife almost bit off.
"She brought her partner with her."
"That red-haired slut?" his wife said, in harsh tones.
He raised one brow. "The young woman I met was modest, intelligent, respectful, possessed of a good sense of humor, and head over heels in love with our daughter. I will agree that she had red hair, but otherwise I fear that you have her confused with someone else."
"Hardly," his wife spat. "I see that little bitch's face all the time, every time I shut my eyes that...sickening display at King's Cross plays in my head. How you can stand to look at her..."
"Margaret," he said. "She's one of the top five in her year, and going pre- med when she gets out of school. Her father's a department head in the Ministry of Magic."
"Oh, MAGIC, " she said, voice low and bitter. "The one time I gave into you was to let her go to that damned school. You lost me my daughter, is what you did. Now I'll not see her wedding, or grandchildren... I'll spend the rest of my life making up stories about my daughter who moved to America and doesn't much write, and hoping to God my friends don't find out."
"I lost her?" John Granger's voice raised slightly. "It seems to me that she staged that display because otherwise you would totally ignore the fact that she wasn't interested in dating boys and keep making dates that she was too much of a lady to break. I apologized to her, and met her partner. I would hope that you have the ability to do the same."
"I would sooner shake hands with a viper," his wife said, color up in her cheeks. "I did everything right. This is not my fault. I have spent my entire life trying to be normal, and you have sabotaged everything!"
He sighed. "You're not listening to anything I'm saying, are you? You never do." "And you have just undermined all my...." Her voice raised, and just then one of the nurses stepped around the curtain.
"Ma'am, I really must ask you to calm down. Mr. Granger is not to be excited. If you continue to agitate him, I will call Security and have you escorted from the building." His wife bridled, but shut her mouth, color still high with rage. "If you feel at all faint, Mr. Granger, call us immediately," the nurse said, checking his monitors, and then leaving with another significant glance at Margaret.
"I think I had better go," she said, "Before I say something I will regret."
"Yes," he said, quietly. "I think you had better. We'll talk when I come out of surgery."
For a moment something else, words of love, of her fears, trembled in her face like a wave about to break. And then she controlled herself, and walked with quick steps toward the door.
"Goodbye, John. I'll be here tomorrow during the surgery." she said, and barely waited for his goodbye before she walked around the curtain and out the door, shoes clicking briskly on the tile.
John Granger sighed and looked at the wall. "Well, that went about as poorly as it could, old man," he said aloud to himself. "I don't know that she'll ever come down from there...I've never seen her that mad in my life."
"Never seen who that mad, John?" said a voice. It made John smile.
"Nigel!" he said, warmth flooding his voice. "Come to hear my dying words of wisdom?"
The man that stepped around the curtain had the broad-shouldered physique of a rugby player, although his midsection revealed that he'd pretty well surrendered the battle against middle-aged spread. He wore a discreet and sober suit, and laid a briefcase and umbrella on the second visitor's chair before taking the one that Margaret had vacated.
"Oh, you're not dying, old man, you're too cantankerous to die yet. Plus, if you do, she wins the argument."
Laughter spilled out, easing the tension that had entered the room with Margaret. "Oh, man, Nigel. I needed that. Good to see you again, though."
Nigel Watson had been in John's same year at school, and the two boys had forged a friendship that had endured through thirty years of careers, marriage, and family. John had gone to dental school, while Nigel had gone on to medical school, but the two had remained close.
"So what are they going to do tomorrow, old man?" Nigel asked.
"Bypass," said John. "Really, I should have been watching out for it...my dad had a heart attack and died when he was just two years older than I am now. But, you know, it's easy to forget. I was in very good health up till now. Suppose it's all the stress," he added in an undertone.
"Stress can definitely do it," said Nigel. "Work, or home?"
"Oh, home," John said. "Hermione's made some decisions about her life that Margaret isn't taking well...she basically disowned her at the beginning of the summer."
Nigel whistled. "Good God, what did she do? I can't imagine much of anything that would....Is she in the family way?"
"No, far from it. Least likely thing to happen now, if you take my meaning."
"Ah." said Nigel. "I can see that doing it, yes...How do you feel about it?"
"Well, at first I was shocked and offended," John said, letting the words come out to somone who wouldn't judge or correct him, who he could trust. It felt very good. "Partly because she chose a...dramatic...method of telling us, and I felt very injured that she couldn't just come to me and tell me. But the one good thing about this heart attack is that we did reconcile. She came up to see me this morning, brought her partner with her...lovely girl, going to go pre-med. But Margaret won't budge."
"Whooh," Nigel said. "And you know, Hermione's just as stubborn as Margaret."
"I do know. It's just most of the time, like me, she'll go along to get along."
"But you both reach a point and stand there, and don't back down," Nigel said, looking out the window thoughtfully at the late afternoon sky. "Caught between a rock and a hard place there, old man. I don't know what to tell you."
"No magical solutions," John responded. "I'm aware now that I made some mistakes...you know, the normal work too long, let her raise the kid...and now I realize that I missed a hell of a lot. I don't want to have her walk away."
"Did you tell her this?"
"Yes...she's going to come back and see me tomorrow before surgery."
"Good....Well, since Fleming's doing your surgery, you have nothing to worry about. Top man in these things."
"Good to hear," said John. "Well, now that you've heard all about my family....how's your boys?"
They talked companionably until the nurse came to run Nigel out for the night. John Granger spared a thought for his wife, at home, before he slept, but it was a uniquely married thought, made up as it was of equal desire to hold her and never let her go, and a desire to shake her until she got some sense.
"Come on in, Margaret," he said, and his wife walked in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then seated herself beside the bed.
"How were things today?" he asked her.
"Not too bad. I was slightly concerned about a wisdom tooth I did today, but the girl came through the anesthetic just fine."
"Good, good." He cleared his throat. "I...had some visitors today."
"Oh, who? The Carters? I was talking to Caroline yesterday and she said...."
"Our daughter."
There was a pause.
"Hermione came to see you." Her voice was slightly disbelieving.
"Yes." He looked at her closely, reading body language and face. This wasn't going to be easy...the very mention of their daughter's name had brought up that simmering mix of hurt and anger he'd lived with for the last three months, easily visible to him on his wife's face.
"How is she?"
"She looked very good, very happy, much less stressed. I understand she's been living with her friend Ron's family."
"Good for her," his wife almost bit off.
"She brought her partner with her."
"That red-haired slut?" his wife said, in harsh tones.
He raised one brow. "The young woman I met was modest, intelligent, respectful, possessed of a good sense of humor, and head over heels in love with our daughter. I will agree that she had red hair, but otherwise I fear that you have her confused with someone else."
"Hardly," his wife spat. "I see that little bitch's face all the time, every time I shut my eyes that...sickening display at King's Cross plays in my head. How you can stand to look at her..."
"Margaret," he said. "She's one of the top five in her year, and going pre- med when she gets out of school. Her father's a department head in the Ministry of Magic."
"Oh, MAGIC, " she said, voice low and bitter. "The one time I gave into you was to let her go to that damned school. You lost me my daughter, is what you did. Now I'll not see her wedding, or grandchildren... I'll spend the rest of my life making up stories about my daughter who moved to America and doesn't much write, and hoping to God my friends don't find out."
"I lost her?" John Granger's voice raised slightly. "It seems to me that she staged that display because otherwise you would totally ignore the fact that she wasn't interested in dating boys and keep making dates that she was too much of a lady to break. I apologized to her, and met her partner. I would hope that you have the ability to do the same."
"I would sooner shake hands with a viper," his wife said, color up in her cheeks. "I did everything right. This is not my fault. I have spent my entire life trying to be normal, and you have sabotaged everything!"
He sighed. "You're not listening to anything I'm saying, are you? You never do." "And you have just undermined all my...." Her voice raised, and just then one of the nurses stepped around the curtain.
"Ma'am, I really must ask you to calm down. Mr. Granger is not to be excited. If you continue to agitate him, I will call Security and have you escorted from the building." His wife bridled, but shut her mouth, color still high with rage. "If you feel at all faint, Mr. Granger, call us immediately," the nurse said, checking his monitors, and then leaving with another significant glance at Margaret.
"I think I had better go," she said, "Before I say something I will regret."
"Yes," he said, quietly. "I think you had better. We'll talk when I come out of surgery."
For a moment something else, words of love, of her fears, trembled in her face like a wave about to break. And then she controlled herself, and walked with quick steps toward the door.
"Goodbye, John. I'll be here tomorrow during the surgery." she said, and barely waited for his goodbye before she walked around the curtain and out the door, shoes clicking briskly on the tile.
John Granger sighed and looked at the wall. "Well, that went about as poorly as it could, old man," he said aloud to himself. "I don't know that she'll ever come down from there...I've never seen her that mad in my life."
"Never seen who that mad, John?" said a voice. It made John smile.
"Nigel!" he said, warmth flooding his voice. "Come to hear my dying words of wisdom?"
The man that stepped around the curtain had the broad-shouldered physique of a rugby player, although his midsection revealed that he'd pretty well surrendered the battle against middle-aged spread. He wore a discreet and sober suit, and laid a briefcase and umbrella on the second visitor's chair before taking the one that Margaret had vacated.
"Oh, you're not dying, old man, you're too cantankerous to die yet. Plus, if you do, she wins the argument."
Laughter spilled out, easing the tension that had entered the room with Margaret. "Oh, man, Nigel. I needed that. Good to see you again, though."
Nigel Watson had been in John's same year at school, and the two boys had forged a friendship that had endured through thirty years of careers, marriage, and family. John had gone to dental school, while Nigel had gone on to medical school, but the two had remained close.
"So what are they going to do tomorrow, old man?" Nigel asked.
"Bypass," said John. "Really, I should have been watching out for it...my dad had a heart attack and died when he was just two years older than I am now. But, you know, it's easy to forget. I was in very good health up till now. Suppose it's all the stress," he added in an undertone.
"Stress can definitely do it," said Nigel. "Work, or home?"
"Oh, home," John said. "Hermione's made some decisions about her life that Margaret isn't taking well...she basically disowned her at the beginning of the summer."
Nigel whistled. "Good God, what did she do? I can't imagine much of anything that would....Is she in the family way?"
"No, far from it. Least likely thing to happen now, if you take my meaning."
"Ah." said Nigel. "I can see that doing it, yes...How do you feel about it?"
"Well, at first I was shocked and offended," John said, letting the words come out to somone who wouldn't judge or correct him, who he could trust. It felt very good. "Partly because she chose a...dramatic...method of telling us, and I felt very injured that she couldn't just come to me and tell me. But the one good thing about this heart attack is that we did reconcile. She came up to see me this morning, brought her partner with her...lovely girl, going to go pre-med. But Margaret won't budge."
"Whooh," Nigel said. "And you know, Hermione's just as stubborn as Margaret."
"I do know. It's just most of the time, like me, she'll go along to get along."
"But you both reach a point and stand there, and don't back down," Nigel said, looking out the window thoughtfully at the late afternoon sky. "Caught between a rock and a hard place there, old man. I don't know what to tell you."
"No magical solutions," John responded. "I'm aware now that I made some mistakes...you know, the normal work too long, let her raise the kid...and now I realize that I missed a hell of a lot. I don't want to have her walk away."
"Did you tell her this?"
"Yes...she's going to come back and see me tomorrow before surgery."
"Good....Well, since Fleming's doing your surgery, you have nothing to worry about. Top man in these things."
"Good to hear," said John. "Well, now that you've heard all about my family....how's your boys?"
They talked companionably until the nurse came to run Nigel out for the night. John Granger spared a thought for his wife, at home, before he slept, but it was a uniquely married thought, made up as it was of equal desire to hold her and never let her go, and a desire to shake her until she got some sense.