Coming Together

"Well, back to the point," Palmer set the envelope on the bed. "It's one of those hokey oversized novelty cards, but all your friends who were working today signed it. Everybody sends their love. Any hint about when you get out of this place?"

"Kind of, they say I might go home tomorrow afternoon, or the following morning. I guess I'm not in any kind of bad shape physically. I won't be back to work for a few days though, I've got to rest up a bit."

"Well take your time; be sure you're up to it before you come back. Let me know if there's anything any of us can do. Now, I've interrupted your little get together long enough, I'll be going. Take care."

"You don't have to leave, you're not interrupting us."

"Yes I do, I've a few things do." With that he slipped out and was gone.

"He seemed nice," Jan said pleasantly.

"Yes, yes he is. He's a good friend." There was a cryptic tone in Ellen's voice.

"Mom," Patrick interjected, "didn't you go out with him back after you and Dad broke up?"

"Uh huh," Ellen nodded her head.

"Oh yes, I remember now," Jan stated, "I remember the name."

"So, Ellen," Annie wondered aloud, "is there something we should know about you two?"

"No, we're just good friends." Ellen let it go at that.

Later, after visiting hours and her family left, Ellen called Palmer. She wanted to thank him properly for coming to visit her again.

"Hello?"

"Hi John, it's Ellen."

"Hey, what's up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for the flowers, it was nice of you. I hope my family didn't scare you off."

"No, but I did want to get out of there, mostly because I wasn't sure what you told them and I didn't want to give anything away."

"I stuck with the ovarian cyst. I think the girls bought it. They're too young to care that much about old lady problems like that."

"I didn't tell them all that much at work. I just told them it was apparently women troubles, no specifics."

"Good, that works, usually nobody asks for much more than that."

"Yeah, that's what I figured, besides then they probably assume you wouldn't have told me anything beyond that. So, they won't ask me anything else and I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing. Enough of that, how're you feeling?"

"Good physically, but I still feel awful about it. I know you said not to blame myself, but I can't shake the feeling that if I'd done something different, maybe hadn't worried so much about myself, then it might not have happened."

"How could you not have worried? Maybe the guilt is good though, like dealing with it is part of the healing process, I don't know."

"I'm supposed to talk to a grief counselor before I leave, but I don't see how it can help."

"Well, you never know. It can't hurt."

"We shall see, we shall see. I'll let you go now, I need some sleep, it's been a busy day and I think they may have slipped me a sedative. Thanks a million John, good night."

"Good night, Ell, get some rest."

She hung up, still not realizing that she was no long calling him Palmer. She now thought of him as John.

Her hospital stay was brief, Ellen was discharged the following day. She did, however, have a session with a grief counselor before she left. While it did feel good to talk about it, she wasn't sure that this was something she wanted to continue with. Mostly it was explained to her that people deal with miscarriages in different ways emotionally; some walk away from it with no problems at all, most have varying degrees of grief and depression. She was told younger women seem to handle it better, women at Ellen's age often take it harder, often seeing it as a sign of advancing age. It was suggested that she could expect to be battling bouts of depression for a period of time. But, time itself would be the great healer. To Ellen's way of thinking if time would do the repair work, why waste money and hours talking to strangers? Just gut it out and let things take care of themselves.

Rejecting therapy may not have been the wisest choice an intelligent woman like Ellen could have made, but fortunately for her John Palmer stepped in to fill the void. When she returned to work, he kept his eye on her. When she appeared down or melancholy he would quickly move in and talk to her, joke, do whatever it took to raise her mood. More importantly, when she wanted to talk, he would listen, patiently.

They began to grow closer, their friendship developing further. During her brief pregnancy they used to have lunch together at work, now they often had dinner together. Occasionally they ate out, but often one would invite the other to their apartment for a meal. She was surprised to find that Palmer was a pretty good cook. His reach was limited, hardy, basic fare; steaks, stews, meat and potatoes, that type of things. As he pointed out, he'd only learned to cook the things he liked to eat. She also discovered he was fairly knowledgeable about wine, knowing which wine matched up well with what dish. She was learning quickly from him.

As close as they got, it never went beyond the friendship stage. Surprising considering less than a year ago she'd surrendered herself so willingly to Ted. The problem was, somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered that that indiscretion had gotten her in trouble and led to what she considered a tragic end. She had no desire to repeat that heartbreaking mistake, therefore she wasn't particularly interested in indulging in any sexual pleasures. She had also made a mistake by avoiding therapy where she may have been able to talk this out. Instead, guilt and grief wrapped themselves tightly around her, a psychological chastity belt, preventing her from moving on.

As for Palmer, he seemed to sense that she was just looking for friendship and some support and respected her wishes. He hadn't gotten involved for any reason other than to help a friend. Make no mistake, it wasn't that he didn't find her desirable; in fact he probably would have jumped at the opportunity to develop a serious relationship with her. But he felt that she wasn't ready for such a thing. He refused to take advantage of her at a time like this. Completely altruistic, he wanted nothing personally from her so there was no conflict. The light good night kiss, the affable hug, these things were more than enough for him.

The strange thing is, if he had made a pass, tried getting closer, it might have forced her to talk openly about her feelings. As it was, there wasn't any reason for her to do so and the remorse just stayed hidden, festering, eating away at her. The road to hell, they say, is paved with good intentions and this seemed to be the case. Who's to say how things would have worked out, for better or worse? We'll never know, for fate was about to intervene once more. Again, it would be in its own uniquely pitiless manner.

A hotel is a twenty-four hour, seven days a week operation. Working in one isn't a nine to five Monday to Friday job. The hours aren't steady; they change depending on the needs of the business. It's not unusual, therefore, for employees to go days without seeing each other. So, as much as Ellen had come to depend on Palmer and looked forward to seeing him, she didn't think anything of it when she didn't see him one morning. It just wasn't all that unusual. He would turn up, if not later today then tomorrow. She was at work in her office for several hours when one of the girls working the front desk dropped in.

"Ellen, anybody have any word about how Palmer's doing?"

The words shocked her. A question like that could only mean bad news. A strange chill engulfed her and she felt her heart speed up.

"What, why, I..." She paused long enough to control her thoughts. "Why, what's happened?"

"Didn't you hear? He's in the hospital, I guess he had a heart attack or something last night."

"No! No, no! Fuck no!" she blurted out. "This can't be happening!"

Startled by Ellen's outburst, not to mention her profanity, the girl stepped back. Ellen sprang from her chair and rushed past her, heading out the door. She went to the general manager's office, his secretary was working on some files.

"Cathy, I just heard John Palmer's in the hospital. Do you know anything about it?"

"Not a lot, he apparently had some sort of cardiac episode. I'm not sure what type or how bad. Jerry called the hospital earlier this morning, they said he was stable and in good condition." Seeing the look of concern on Ellen's face, she picked up her phone. "Jerry has his mobile phone on him, let me see if he knows anything more."

Ellen waited nervously as Cathy made the call. She struggled to calm herself, it seemed to take forever for him to pick up. Finally she heard Cathy speak.

"Jerry, Ellen Reilly is here, she'd like to know if you heard anything more about Palmer. Yes. Of course. OK, I'll tell her." She hung up the phone and looked up at Ellen. "He was on his way back actually and said you should wait in his office. He's going to make another call to see if there's an update."

Ellen went into the office and sat down. True to his word, Jerry turned up moments later. Moving around the desk he sat down.

""Morning Ellen, here about Palmer, huh?" Ellen nodded. "They said he'd probably be alright. It was a relatively minor incident. He was still in the ER waiting for a room when I called earlier."

"I know how that works", she said thinking of her own trip. "What hospital is he in?"

"Central Med. If you want to wait a couple of minutes, I'll make another call and see if there's any change."

Ellen sat patiently, listening as Jerry questioned whoever was on the other end of the line. It was odd she thought, listening to half a conversation, trying to imagine what the other half was. Finally, after she listened to a series of "yes, of course", "I see", and some expressions of gratitude, he hung up.

"OK, he's in good condition, they're going to be running some tests to see if he needs surgery or not. It all sounds pretty routine."

"It always sounds routine if you're not the one it's happening to."

"That's true enough," he agreed.

"What room number? I have to go see him. He came to see me last month, you know."

"Yes, I remember. Take whatever time you need. Room 241, let us know what's going on. Tell him we're all pulling for him."

Wasting no time, Ellen left the building and went to her car. Driving more cautiously than usual, she headed for the hospital. On one hand, she was in a rush to get there; on the other, she was taking her time, fearful of what she might find when she arrived. Once she pulled into the hospital parking garage, an overwhelming feeling of dread came over her. It wasn't that she didn't want to go in, she wish she didn't have to go in. It would have been so much easier to have stayed at work and wait for word. She was also unsure of how Palmer would see things. Perhaps he would prefer to be left alone. Then she remembered how she felt when he turned up in the ER posing as her step brother and she was determined to go ahead.

It seemed like a long walk from the garage to the main building, she paused at the information desk to double check on his room number. When she went upstairs to his room she was shocked to find it empty. Fighting panic, she went to the nurse's station and waited until the girl at the desk glanced up.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Yes, room 241, John Palmer is supposed to be there, but it's empty. Is everything all right?"

The nurse looked over at some papers on her desk. "Yes, he went down for a test about an hour ago, he should be back soon. You can wait in his room, if you like. If not, there is a quiet room down the end of the hall with some books and magazines."

The nurse returned to her work as Ellen went back to the empty room. She sat down for a few minutes, then began feeling conspicuous. She decided to go back down to the first floor where there was a coffee shop. It seemed like a better place to pass the time. She bought a cup of tea and a newspaper, then found a seat. Sipping her tea nervously, she absent mindedly scanned the paper. She waited about fifteen minutes, then took her cup and paper and went back upstairs. Walking down the hall see could see the foot of the bed through the open doorway. Someone was in it; he was back. She paused, steeling her nerves, then went in.

It was Palmer, but not the way she remembered him. Two days ago he was the picture of good health, hail and hardy. Now, he appeared pale and tired, drawn and worn out. It occurred to her that this is probably how she looked to him that morning in the ER. He hadn't let it show then, and she was determined not to let it show now. It was a classic case of role reversal.

When she went into the room something changed. Palmer had been her anchor, she had come to rely on him, depend on his steadying influence. She needed him. Truth be told, her initial reaction to his being hospitalized was self-centered. She was afraid she couldn't continue without him, without drawing on his strength. Seeing him in a vulnerable condition, her concern shifted entirely to him. She was no longer thinking of herself, just of him.

"Hi'ya Johnny, how're you doing?" She made every effort to sound cheerful.

"Hey, Ellen." His voice was softer than usual, and while he smiled up at her, it was a tired smile. "Seems like I've got a little problem with the old ticker."

"What kind of problem? Did they say?" She knew from her own recent experience the signs of depression and recognized them in him almost immediately.

"Ah, a blockage of some sort. They're waiting to see if I need angioplasty or a stint or something."

"Doesn't sound too bad, I was worried you'd be needing open heart surgery or worse."

"Not too bad, huh", he grinned, "how 'bout you have it done for me? C'mon, be a buddy."

"If I thought it would help, I would, but it doesn't work that way. You've got to do this yourself."

"Yeah, there's always a catch."

After he finished speaking she watched his smile fade, replaced by a pensive look. She wasn't sure if he was worried about the procedure or just the situation in general. She would have liked to change the subject, but felt that avoiding it wouldn't help. In fact it might make it worse. It was almost as if somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that her own reluctance to talk about her feelings after the miscarriage had been a mistake.

"To be honest, I don't know that much about angioplasty but I do know it's not that serious. It seems to be an in and out procedure these days, a lot of people lead long and healthy lives afterwards. I think it's more of a maintenance type of thing." She was trying hard to be supportive.

"That's what they tell me. Guess I'll find out soon enough."

Ellen reached out and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. Ironically it was similar to the gesture he had made the morning she was in the emergency room. In a strange way their history seemed to be repeating itself. These coincidences went unnoticed however because each was lost in their own thoughts.

"Thanks for coming, I'm glad you did. You should get back to work though. Tell everybody I'm good, I'll be alright." Both his words and smile were unconvincing. "Are you sure? Jerry didn't put a time on this, I can stay awhile."

"No, it's OK. Like you said last month, the place will fall apart without us. I want to have a job to come back to. Go and take care of business."

Ellen smiled at him, then bent over and kissed his forehead.

"If you insist, but I'll be back. Don't be afraid to let me know if you need anything, anything at all."

"Got a new circulatory system in your purse?" He smiled briefly.

She reached down and patted his hand. His feeble attempt at humor didn't fool her, Lifting his spirits was going to be harder than she'd thought.

"It's going to be all right, sweetie, don't worry. You'll be fine." Reluctantly she left the room.

Returning later that night, Ellen was disappointed to find there was no change in his mood. She had hoped that any talks he'd had with the doctors might have had a positive effect on him. But when she entered the room she could see he was deeply depressed. Even the smile he gave her when she walked in was strangely sad.

"So, what have they been doing with you today? Anything interesting."

"Naw, just more tests. They say there I'm going to have the angioplasty tomorrow, if there's no complications I can go home the following day."

"There, it isn't as bad as you thought, see?" Then she remembered the newspaper and magazines she'd brought. "I didn't get you flowers, but I did bring some things for you to read."

She set the paper and two magazines down on the bed. He picked up the magazines, one Sports Illustrated the other a Maxim. He held the latter up.

"Looking at the pictures could get me excited and cause another heart attack you know." He was smiling slightly as he spoke.

"There are worse ways to go."

"Yeah, I guess." Then his smile disappeared, "I suppose one way is pretty much the same as another.

Ellen couldn't help but think she was going to have her work cut out for her. She stayed for over an hour. During this time several of their co-workers dropped by and Ellen watched the same pattern repeat itself over and over. He would make a feeble attempt at humor, then his mood would quickly fade. When she finally left she was confused and disappointed, add to that she was feeling twinges of guilt. She began to wonder if the stress caused by her leaning on him so much hadn't contributed to his condition. She was wrong of course, he had enjoyed the time he had spent with her but she had no way of knowing this.

Ellen took the following day off from work, feeling somebody should be with Palmer when the procedure was done. Arriving before he went down, she did what she could to cheer him up. It seemed to her that his mood was strange. While he was slightly nervous about it, he didn't appear to be afraid as much as despondent. When the orderly came and took him down, she went to the coffee shop, bought a cup of tea and a bagel, then retired to the waiting room to keep her vigil.

She had stuck to her story about being his step sister, so she was kept informed of his progress. When the procedure was completed she was even allowed into the recovery ward to sit with him while the sedation wore off. He was awake when she went in, seeming more tired than groggy.

"Have a good time, sweetie?" She kept her voice as soft as she could.

"Peachy, Ellen, just peachy. Guess I'm still alive?" His voice was weak.

"Of course, did you expect anything different?"

"You never know. A lot can go wrong. How long was I in there?"

"Not long, I was in the waiting room a little over an hour, but I don't know exactly how long the procedure took, or how long you were lying around back there waiting to go in."

Ellen saw the tired vacant smile again. She would have liked to think it was merely due to the sedation or just a post-operative condition, but something told her it was more than that. This whole episode had had a devastating effect on him. Having no idea if this was normal or not, she could only hope for the best. Feeling she owed him, he had been a friend to her when she needed one; she was determined to see him through this. She would bring the old Palmer back.

The procedure had gone perfectly and he was released the next day. Ellen drove him home when she finished work. For the next several weeks she spent as much time with him as she could, attending to his needs, trying hard to lift his spirits. The pattern was always the same however, he would joke or make a joke or light hearted remark, a quick glimpse at his old self, then fade into quiet melancholia. She was baffled, not sure what to do. Even when he returned to work, he seemed quietly disconnected. Some of their co-workers thought this was just the new John Palmer; more mellow and thoughtful. Ellen knew better, to her he seemed like a beaten man. She even went as far as suggesting he go for counseling, odd since she had rejected that option for herself. She had no way of knowing it, but the next time she had him over for dinner, things were going to take an unexpected turn; unexpected perhaps, but somewhat predictable.