Árdís - 01.01.1953, Blaðsíða 61

Ársrit Bandalags lúterskra kvenna
59
unbearable, she got her hat and coat, and bag. She would go
uptown to a show, and dinner, though she knew she wouldn’t feel
hungry, remembering to be back in time to receive Dr. Mike.
She was back, and scanning the evening paper when she heard
a car drive in, and Dr. Mike entered the room.
“You are a bit of a psychiatrist,” he said, with a broad grin
on his swarthy face. “You convinced me, and I now know that
you are right.” He stood looking at her, his dark eyes bright with
pleasure. “Marge and I,” he continued, “are getting married in a
month. Down at the farm, with all my folks present.”
“I am so happy for you,” Grace said with feeling.
“We plan to take over Marge’s apartment,” he said. “But that
leaves Nancy Billings, a nurse at Children’s sharing it, stranded.
You have vacant bedrooms. She takes her meals at the hospital.
Could you take her in?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be staying here.”
“Nonsense.” Dr. Mike reached into his jacket pocket. “Here’s
your plane ticket to Vancouver,” he said. “It’s for tomorrow morn-
ing. You go for a two weeks visit with your daughter. I’ve sent her
a wire.”
Dr. Mike had come to a decision, and manlike, everything had
to be rushed to suit his plans. But a visit to Elaine would be nice.
Now that she felt so well, she would enjoy it. Her mind flew to her
clothes; luckily her new green suit was just back from the cleaners.
“And I have more plans for you.” Dr. Mike’s smile began in
his eyes, then spread over his face. “I’ve another Ugly Pugly for
you. A seven-months-old boy. The little tyke has been through
measles, with pneumonia. He needs you. He’ll be waiting for you.”
Things were happening too fast; Grace could hardly think.
“His parents were killed in a car crash,” Dr. Mike went on.
“He is dark skinned, with very dark eyes, and black curly hair.”
A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, and his lips quirked in
a quizzical grin, as he said, “His parents were Assyrian.”
When he was gone, Grace sat in the slipper chair, her hands
limp in her lap. Dr. Mike had said the little boy needed her care,
and after him, she knew there would be other children. She would
stay here, in her home, basking in friendship, and usefulness. It