|
FRESH! Literary Magazine
2009 Short Story |
“YOU MUST REMEMBER THIS……”
Josie
found the future Dr. Thomas Morrison fast asleep with his head on the dining
room table. There was jam on his face
and a trickle of milk from an overturned mug.
He
wasn’t drunk. He was exhausted. Her family always boarded an intern from the
hospital, which made sense because the hospital was only three blocks
away. This meant that he, or, in one
case, she wouldn’t need a car. The
hospital worked these people so hard and on such long shifts. They
always seemed to be on call and could
hardly ever make plans for their own recreation or enjoyment. This would have driven Josie mad. Her schedule at the college was pretty tight
what with doing some tutoring and helping out at home, but there was always
Tuesday afternoon and Sundays. All hers,
so she could get her hair cut, have a cup of coffee with Fern, or spend an hour
or two in the park, lying on the grass, watching the ducks, and reading
something frivolous. But first she’d
have to put Thomas to bed.
There
was a prescription form next to his hand which read, “Get yourself something to
eat and get some sleep. You aren’t due
back here until Thursday!” It was neatly
printed and signed by Mrs. Wiggins, who manned the head desk.
She
pulled back on his shoulders and his head fell right into her arms. He was really out cold and looked vulnerable
and limps with those long lashes and all the stubble on his cheeks. Without thinking, she kissed him and it felt
so wonderful that she made a good job of it.
He began to stir and she pushed him gently down on the table and busied
herself putting his plate and cup into the sink.
“Josie,”
he mumbled.
“You’re
completely exhausted. Better get
yourself to bed.”
“I’m….confused
and….foggy….”
“Of
course you are. How many hours has it
been?”
“Don’t
remember. Josie …did you kiss me?”
“What! In your dreams!” She grabbed paper towels and ran hot water
over them – then mopped his face and hands.
“You’re sticky with jam.”
“That
feels good.”
“Go
on now.”
He
struggled to his feet and turned toward the hall.
“Do
you need help getting out of your clothes?”
“No…..well
maybe I do,” he said turning around with a weird little smirk on his face.
She
laughed at him. “I take back my offer. How hard can it be to get out of scrubs? Get going now.”
The
dog, which had been under the table, followed him happily down the hall.
This
one – this Tom Morrison was getting to her.
They all had been great, but this one……..kind of got under your skin. Fresh from his home way out in
And
he was determined to go back to
She
made herself a sandwich and tea and looked over the list of things her mother
had asked her to bring home for dinner.
She felt restless, stirred up. It
was spring and she had…..really taken advantage of Tom….and she didn’t regret
it. She’d better look in on him before
she left.
The
door was half open. The dog slept in a
pool of sunlight under the window. His
scrubs were tossed over the back of a chair and his shoes and socks were tucked
underneath. There was a roll of scotch
tape on the floor. She went in, picked
it up and put it on the end table. When
she turned, she saw the prescription blank upside down, taped to his undershirt. Her heart did a tango in her chest as she
read, “Kiss Me Again!”
Copyright © 2009 by Marjorie Schlitz
Marjorie’s short story The Ghost Princess won First prize
in theFRESH! Literary Magazine 2007 short story
contest.
Return to Shirley Gerald Ware:
Publisher