For the Mercy Street Holiday 2016 Prompt Challenge on Tumblr: "Carolers" (Dec 12)
The door to his office was half-open, and Mary found herself momentarily hovering in the doorway, caught between clearing her throat so he'd know she was there and letting herself quietly watch him. Mostly, she could just see the back of his head as he leaned back a little in his chair, his feet propped up on a stack of thick Army-issue protocol and procedure binders. He was reading through a journal article – from the looks of it, something from either The Lancet or the NEJM – but she couldn't help but notice that was open on his laptop screen, video highlights of the most recent Ravens game playing surreptitiously on mute.
Finally – after a longer time than she ought to have waited – she softly rapped on the door, pushing it open just a bit as part of the pretense that she had just gotten there.
"You ready?" she asked, tilting her head in an inviting, but deliberately collegial, way.
His head turned back towards her and just as quickly, his feet lifted off the binders and he swiveled around in her direction. He sighed, although there was something in his gaze that seemed to indicate he didn't mind being interrupted all that much.
"Have I told you how much I hate carolers?"
"Only about a hundred times…" she said, offering a wry smile as she found herself being drawn into the warm provocation of his tone. "But it's not just carolers, it's Dr. Diggs's a capella group. They're supposed to be quite good."
"Have I told you that if there's anything I hate more than carolers, it's a capella groups?"
She leaned against the doorframe, grinning a little more widely as she rolled her eyes. Apparently, he was in one of those moods. She wasn't quite sure what might be responsible – she hadn't heard about any run-ins with Dr. Hale, which would have been the most obvious cause – but Dr. Foster was known to have a fairly mercurial temperament, so it really could have been anything at all.
Still, she wasn't really of a mind to let him indulge in it.
"You know, I think it would be great if you could avoid saying that during the performance…" she said, giving him her best impatient-but-slightly-amused schoolmarm glare. "C'mon, Dr. Grinch."
Their gazes held just a second or so longer than she was really ready for.
"Fine…" His eyes glinted in the light as he rose to his feet. "But the minute it becomes a sing-along, you're going to have to watch as I make a decidedly hasty exit."
He leaned down, searching for something to use as a bookmark for his journal, and in that moment, Mary's gaze caught along the top of his desk. Off to the side, there was a stamped manila envelope with papers laying right across it. "Superior Court of California, County of San Mateo," it read across the top of the paper in small capital letters. "Petition for Dissolution of Marriage." A plastic stickie tab stuck out from the side of the pile, a red arrow and the words "Sign Here" marked across it.
She managed to get her face relatively back to normal by the time he looked over at her, although the same couldn't really be said for her heart, which was still pounding erratically somewhere up by her throat. It was a good thing she was with a doctor, she half-joked to herself: if she went into vfib, at least he would know what to do.
Dr. Foster was getting a divorce. And he was getting a divorce just in time for Christmas. God, how awful. It was awful, wasn't it?
As they made their way down towards the central lobby, she was quieter, her feelings shifting around in her chest as she tried to figure out what to do with this new revelation. It didn't mean anything, she eventually told herself – it had nothing to do with her at all. It wasn't even any of her business, really, but now that she knew, obviously she should just try to treat him the same way she would any other doctor in this hospital, with nothing more than sympathy for a colleague going through a difficult period.
Of course, that did little to dispel the faint tingle in her fingertips that appeared after they both reached for the elevator call button at the same time.
The lobby was already full of people, mostly patients and their families, seated in upholstered chairs brought in from the waiting rooms, although there were many in wheelchairs. She was able to instantly locate a few of her patients from the ward, the ones who were stable enough to be transported downstairs. She was glad they were here; it made a world of difference to be able to get out of the confined space of a hospital room. And as always, the dominant color was fatigue, punctuated by the occasional bright red of a wife or girlfriend's holiday sweater. Small children were playing, scampering in between the seats, the sound of their squeals bouncing off the high tiled ceiling.
Ringing the crowd was an assortment of the hospital's staff, and Mary spied Dr. Hale and Nurse Hastings over near the windows, whispering intimately to one another, and a little closer, Nurse Green and Major Summers, the former gazing out at the assembled group with pure, unalloyed delight, the latter looking as if he couldn't wait to get back to the afternoon comforts of his office couch.
On the other side of the lobby were a few of the physical therapists – distinctive in their black polos and khakis – and Mary spotted Aurelia, her arms draped over the shoulders of a young boy as she held him close. That had to be Gabe, her son, who Mary had heard about, but had never seen. He had only been living with Aurelia for a little while – there had been something about a custody issue with his father, who lived in North Carolina – but she looked overjoyed to have him back.
The other source of Aurelia's joy, Mary knew, was her budding relationship with Samuel. They had been seeing each other for a few months now, and even though she was a civilian PT and he was an Army doctor – one of best cardio-thoracic surgeons on staff – they seemed to be making a good go of it. Most days, Mary wished her love life were half as promising.
Aurelia tapped Gabe on the shoulder and pointed, and Mary followed the direction of her outstretched arm to see a group of five men – Samuel among them – walk out in front of the crowd. They were dressed casually, in jeans and sweaters, each with a festive red and white striped scarf looped around his neck.
A quick burst of cheering and applause erupted from the assembled crowd, along with a smattering of sharp "hoo-ahs," as the group took their places up front. After some brief introductions, the audience hushed itself as the group launched into a beautiful rendition of "Come All Ye Faithful." Their voices were clear and lofty, a harmonious combination of different ranges, all honed by what was undoubtedly hours upon hours of practice.
The crowd loved it, breaking into applause once they finished, cheering and whooping as they continued through their repertoire, which included everything from "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" to "Feliz Navidad." At one point, they asked everyone to clap along to "A Holly Jolly Christmas" – which the crowd seemed more than willing to do – and Mary turned her head towards Dr. Foster, wondering how he might react to this minimal request for audience participation. It didn't seem to scare him off entirely, she noted, as he continued to stand there with his hands in his pockets, a strangely subdued look on his face. She wondered if he was thinking about the papers in his office, simply waiting for that final signature – and then she sighed a little at herself, at her own ridiculousness, and turned her attention back to the carolers at the front of the room.
After a few additional songs, the carolers were clearly coming towards the end of the performance, and she watched as Samuel took a few steps forward, positioning himself in front of the other four men. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something, but then he began to sing, all by himself, his voice a deep, rich baritone that seemed to sweep away every other sound in the room.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light
From now on,
Our troubles will be out of sight…"
It was strange; something about the way that he sang, this astonishing talent she had never known he possessed, coupled with the words of the song, the idea of leaving behind your problems and your worries and letting all of it disappear in the pleasure of being around the ones you loved – it pulled at her a little, her chest tightening unexpectedly.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Make the Yule-tide gay
From now on,
Our troubles will be miles away…"
She gazed around the room, taking in the sight of all these people in rapt attention, all these soldiers who had given so much, sacrificed so much, their bodies and their minds broken in ways that sometimes defied imagination. But they were here, listening to the sweet and hopeful yearnings of this song, maybe thinking that for this moment, the world was right again, everything was just as it had been before.
"Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more…"
The other members of the group began to softly harmonize behind Samuel, filling the room with the warm thrumming of their voices. Mary turned her head and saw that it wasn't just the patients and their families who were affected by the song: Dr. Hale and Nurse Hastings stood entranced, along with Nurse Green and even Major Summers, a dreamy smile planted on his face. And, of course, Aurelia, her arms clasped around Gabe, looked the happiest of all, her face glowing with pleasure and pride, and with what Mary realized had to be the early stirrings of love.
"Through the years we all will be together,
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself… a merry little Christmas now."
There was a moment's weight of silence after he finished – everyone was clearly still under the song's spell – and then the room burst forth with an eruption of applause. She heartily clapped along, not really understanding the multitude of emotions that were passing through her, and she found herself taking a deep breath and swallowing, just to dispel some of it from the center of her chest.
"Nurse Phinney, are you having a moment?"
His tone was slightly mocking – nothing out of the ordinary – but as she turned to meet his gaze, she saw that his expression decidedly was not.
"Thank you for your concern, Doctor," she answered softly, arching an eyebrow at him, "but I'm fine. It was beautiful song. Dr. Diggs is very talented."
She turned back towards the performers, watching as Samuel – his smile wide from ear to ear – held his hands out in front of him, attempting to get the crowd to settle down a little.
"Alright, everyone, thanks so much! So for our last song, we're going to need a little help…" he shouted over the din. "But don't worry, you all know the words!"
Mary glanced back over at Dr. Foster, certain that she would only catch a glimpse of his retreating form as he escaped towards the bank of elevators. But to her surprise, he was still standing there beside her, arms crossed over his chest, offering her a small look of amused exasperation.
"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…" she heard the five carolers sing.
She started grinning – although she couldn't have said why, really – and then he was smiling, too, warmth unspooling from his dark eyes. She needed to look away, she knew, but it was harder than she might have imagined – at least in that moment, with the familiar words of the song caught on her lips, wanting nothing more than to be sung, with the realization that he might actually join in with her, despite his earlier protestations.
"A partridge in a pear tree!" they sang out together, their voices merging with those of the crowd, making a joyful sound that reverberated deep within the sudden and surprising fullness of her heart.