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rainbowfic2015-06-21 10:52 pm
delirio) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-21 10:52 pm
Entry tags:
Scarlet #4
Name: Jenny delirio
Story: H2O (Chapter 6)
Colors: Scarlet #4: After all, tomorrow is another day.
Word Count: 3780 ish
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Horribly graphic descriptions of delicious food :)
Notes: I am happy for crit, comments, or just readers. This is a story I want to publish, so feedback is highly appreciated. I have landed on posting full chapters at the moment--if you aren't able to read it all in one sitting, feel free to read to a chapter break and then come back to it later. I use *** to indicate a stopping point.
"Sorry I didn't call you yesterday," said Algus from the tablet. "My meeting with the Pater got pushed back so I don't have approval for you yet. Enjoying your eggs?"
The fork had been halfway to my mouth, but at his words, I put it down. I tried to keep the annoyance from my tone but some seeped through. "From the amount of time you spend tracking the most miniscule of my expenses, one would think you have nothing more important to do."
"You say that as if the spending habits of our only Dottore should be beneath my notice." He steepled his hands and sent me a wry look. "It wouldn't hurt you to buy more, you know. I'm glad to see you finally taking advantage of what we offer you. All the vendors are happy to provide you with whatever you want. They know they'll be compensated."
"I only take what I need," I reminded him. "Don't expect me to fall all over you in thanks for a few apples and eggs. I have a patient at home who needs to eat properly. Where is that supply truck, Algus?"
"A patient?" He evaded my question. "I wondered what caused your change of heart. Nothing serious, I hope?"
I paused. "No," I said at last, "I don't think so."
Had he heard the lie? His expression told me nothing. "Good, good. I won't keep you from your breakfast any longer."
"Wait—what about my suppl—," I said in a rush, but the screen had already gone dark. I shoved the tablet away and finished my plate of eggs without tasting them. If Algus had been the one to issue the order, I'd have gotten into the Archives right away. I'd have my shipment of medicine. I hated waiting on the Pater's whims.
I dressed and put the kettle on, then went to wake Anna. She was just as I'd left her, sleeping in nearly the same position. She seemed slightly restless, but her fever had stayed down.
The faint whirr of the medigauge woke her. She smiled when she saw me. "Hello."
"Good morning." I checked her temperature. "And how do you feel?"
"A little better. Not so achy." She sighed and shifted in bed, but did not try to sit up. "I had dreams."
"What kind of dreams?" I asked, not really listening as I checked the results of the first scan. She seemed breathless, a little weak. That was to be expected up to a point, but I wanted to be sure she was on the mend. "I'm going to run a more thorough scan. Just sit there for a moment."
"Mhmm." She relaxed back against the pillows and looked away as I took her pulse. "There was so much water, so much of it. I...I thought I might drown but it buoyed me up. Have you ever been swimming, Dottore?" Her voice wandered.
"As a boy, on the Homeworld," I replied, preoccupied with the emgee's strange readings. None of the numbers made any kind of sense. I tapped it on my thigh before checking it again.
She sighed. "It must be lovely. Soft and cool, I always imagined, like...like...air, like clouds, only dense. You can't swim here, and it's so sad."
"Mm."
"But my dream," she went on, murmuring, her voice a mere buzzing in the background. "First there were paths...no, wait, not paths. Dry creek beds, like memories of streams trickling into rivers and spilling into oceans."
The tone of her voice lulled me, and when I took her wrist to check her pulse, I slipped into a memory.
I'd been a child when it happened. The rain had fallen for days, cutting through the heat of summer like a blade. The bacino idrico flooded its banks on the last day of the storm, all at once, the earthen dam too sodden to hold any longer. I ran with my brother to higher ground, but just before I reached the stones set in the hillside, I paused in the road, transfixed by the wall of water rushing at me. It splashed against the ancient houses of that tiny village, its leading edge leaping like horses. It would have swept me away, but someone grabbed my collar and pulled me to safety…
"...Dottore?"
The sound of my title broke the spell. I was back in my spare room, just where I'd been all along. My hand cradled Anna's wrist, my fingers resting against her pulse point. The current raced under her skin.
I looked at her, lost.
"Dottore?" she said again, and this time I paid attention. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I said flatly. "Can you stand?"
She nodded and struggled to sit up properly. She had to pull her arm away; the break in contact felt like a gulf opened up between us. I felt dazed. What had that been? I'd been so sure it was real. I swear I could still smell the water rushing under my feet as I'd been dragged up out of harm's way. I half expected my hand to come away wet when I patted down my vest and tried to smooth my hair.
I helped Anna to the washroom and when she silently closed the door, I continued down the hall to the kitchen where the kettle whistled. I needed tea.
No, that wasn't right. What I needed was something stronger, but tea would have to do.
***
Domani gave me a strange look when she met me at her door. “Something’s happened,” she said without any other greeting. “Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.” She poked the air as if popping invisible bubbles. "I can see it all around you. And even if I couldn't, you look pale."
"I said it's nothing!" The words came out more forcefully than I intended. I reined in my temper, took a breath. "I mean it. I'm just tired, that's all."
She crossed her arms. Today she wore dozens of tiny silver bracelets that jangled with every movement she made. "You're working too hard."
"There's not much I can do about that."
"You could demand more help--"
I stayed her with an upraised hand. "Trust me, I just had this conversation with Algus. Please, Domani. Can you just watch Anna for a bit so I can do my rounds?"
"So you're keeping her another day?" She tsk'd. "What would the Church say if they knew—"
"Domani."
"Oh, don't mind me. It doesn't bother me either way. But you're treating her like a child. She is a grown woman, you know."
"Just yesterday you called her a girl, yourself," I reminded her.
She peered at me through the wavy fall of her hair, then nodded. "All right," she relented. “I’ll be up in a moment. Go see to your other patients.”
“Thank you,” I said with no little relief. But even when I turned to go, I still felt Domani’s eyes on my back, watching me with a dark frown. I was glad to escape into the cold sunlight. The strangeness with Anna and now this from Domani...I wanted time to clear my head, and a nice, ordinary checkup would be just the thing.
***
I stopped at the hospital to check up on the quarantine patients. Anna's apparently swift recovery had me doubting myself whether she'd had Delirio at all to begin with. All the others still lay in their comas, unmoving except for the rise and fall of their chests. As I walked through the ward, I imagined Anna as one of them and couldn't picture it. She was too vibrant and alive to be cold and still in one of these beds.
Valeria found me standing by Luca. She seemed more frazzled than usual. "I finished the inventory you requested."
"How are our supplies?" I did some mental math. "How long—"
"Days," she said bleakly. She met my gaze with tired eyes. "A week at most. We can't handle a full scale epidemic, Dottore. Not unless we get that delivery. What's keeping them?"
"I don't know."
She didn't even frown. Her exhaustion was evident in the slump of her shoulders and the way she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You know what it is?" she murmured. "I can see it so clearly." She gestured to the room. "It's this."
"The quarantine?"
"Delirio." She gave a humorless laugh. "You want to study Delirio and Pater doesn't want that. So he's cutting you off. He's done it before."
"You can't be serious."
Valeria cocked her head at me, brow raised. "You'll see." With a note of finality, she pushed away from the wall and left me alone with the Delirio patients, who merely slept on. For now.
***
My tablet chimed as I paused to grab a quick meal from a vendor on the far side of Cantabile. It was Domani's chime; I practically dropped the wrapped sandwich in my haste to answer. "Is everything all right? What's happened?"
"La, Dottore!" It wasn't Domani at all, but Anna, smiling up at me. "I just called to see if you'd be home for dinner."
The sudden sense of utter relief that nothing was wrong startled me and made my reply come out far more curt than I intended. "I don't know. What are you doing out of bed?"
"I'm only up for a moment. I am getting tired of lying down all the time." Her chin went up slightly. "It's not like I'm going for walks or anything. Though do you think we could go for one soon? I am feeling much better--"
"Anna," I said with as much patience as I could, "Is there a purpose to this call?"
"I already told you. I am making dinner. Don't eat before you return. Oh, and you should pick up more eggs."
Eggs? "But I just bought some yesterday," I protested. She only laughed.
"Souffles take a lot of them. Come home soon, all right? I made dessert, too." She waved. "That's all. Have a good afternoon!"
"Anna, wait--" I was too late. She signed off before I could say no. I stood there on the sidewalk, sandwich and bag in one hand, staring at the tablet in the other. I could call her back. I could order her back to bed but really, what could I do if I wasn't there? She'd probably laugh again and Domani would back her up. I sighed.
I had to admit that the prospect of a souffle made my sandwich less appealing. I'd buy the eggs as she asked, but only because I wanted them for breakfast myself. We'd have a talk later about how she shouldn't be out of bed, and about making things without checking with me first.
After dessert, of course.
***
Domani met me at the door with a grin. "I had to make sure you didn't make too much noise coming in," she said as she took charge of shutting it. "Your dinner is just coming out of the oven. I don't think you want it to fall."
"What is going on?" I demanded, lowering my voice halfway through the sentence. "You were supposed to watch her."
"I did," she replied. "I watched her sit in bed until she thought her legs would walk off without her, and then I watched her go through your cabinets in search of something usable. The souffle was her idea."
"I don't even have a cookbook, though." I found Anna gingerly withdrawing a high-sided dish from the oven. "How did you…"
She'd changed her clothes. I almost didn’t recognize the woman in my kitchen. Gone was the shapeless nightgown, and in its place she wore a form-fitting green top and a blue skirt that swirled around her legs. Her arms and shoulders were bare, covered only in the freckles that gathered at her shoulders and elbows and trickled down over her skin. I realized too late that I was staring; Domani nudged me but Anna didn't seem to notice.
Anna straightened and turned to me with a smile. She'd tied back her hair with a scarf, not that it obeyed very well. "Good timing," she said cheerfully, "Did you have a good day?"
"No, but there's not much I can do about it now." Domani nudged me again and I cleared my throat. "You, ah, you look very…" I cast about for a word that would be appropriate. I'd left a patient only to find a woman in her place. "…comfortable," I finished lamely.
Domani let out an exasperated sound and threw her hands up in the air. "Such a way with the ladies! They must swoon when you tell them their shoes are very sensible."
I thought that unfair. Apparently, Anna did as well. "I told you he'd have more important things on his mind than fashion," she scolded lightly. "Let the man eat his dinner."
"Fine, fine." The moment Anna turned away, Domani's pleasant smile went hard-edged. Sotto voce, she hissed, "You're welcome. Don't be an ass to her." Then the edge disappeared, and in a more normal tone, she said, "I've got a busy day tomorrow. Anna, you can keep my tablet until you get one of your own. I barely use it. Goodnight, my dears."
With a flutter of her fingertips, she turned and swept from the room, stately despite her cane. I heard her carefully close the door behind her, and then I was left alone with Anna.
"Sit," she offered. "I'll get a plate for you."
I did as she asked but my conscience nagged at me. "You shouldn't be working like this," I began, but she shook her head.
"I've been feeling all day like I needed to get up and move, so I thought I'd look around your kitchen. Do you know how many packages of box noodles you had?" She gave a delicate shudder as she put the dish in front of me. "You need some real food."
The top of the souffle had collapsed slightly as it cooled, but the smell made my mouth water. I fought to keep my air of authority in the face of such a beautiful meal. "Real food or no, you are still sick."
"Which is why all I did was a souffle. And a custard for dessert. Don't look at me like that! What else was I supposed to do with all those yolks? Domani had a stash of cardamom in her kitchen." She took the fork and pierced the souffle, then handed it to me. "Here. Taste. How do you like it?"
To humor her, I took a bite. "It's…amazing." The last time I'd eaten something so refined had been before the Departure, and I'd certainly paid an exorbitant amount of money for it. Yet here I sat with this unassuming, sweet-faced young woman who watched me with her chin in her hand and a smile curving her lips because she knew, she knew what her food was doing to me.
No sooner had I finished the souffle than she swapped the dish for a small bowl. "Cardamom custard," she murmured. I noticed that she had her own bowl as well. "Let's see how it set."
Of course, it, too, was perfect. We ate with gusto, our spoons clinking against the sides of our bowls. As much as I enjoyed the meal, however, I couldn't avoid my duties as her doctor. "We need to talk," I said when she stood to take our dishes. "Anna, please. Sit down."
"In a moment, let me just wash--"
"Anna. Sit down."
I thought she might argue more, but surprisingly, she listened. "You're very good at that."
"At what?"
"That tone. Very imperious." I had the notion that she was teasing me, but she only waited with a faint smile. "I couldn't help but obey."
"Yes. Well." The sight of her in normal clothes should not have been as distracting as it was. In them, she was a woman, not just a patient. That revelation led me down a dangerous path, one I hadn't expected to follow. I was supposed to remain neutral. Neutral to politics, neutral to creed, neutral to gender. Yet while I struggled to speak to her as her doctor, in some small corner of my mind I connected those freckles to each other, one by one as they disappeared under the low, swooping neckline of her shirt.
"Dottore?"
Focus, Massi, focus, I ordered myself. "While I thoroughly enjoyed your cooking--"
"I'm glad you did!" She beamed.
Focus. "Yes. While I enjoyed it, yes, I do not approve of you sacrificing your rest in order to cook. You're not my housekeeper, you're my patient."
"Oh, I know. But I couldn't sit still anymore. I feel this…drive. I need to do something." She shrugged. "Then I saw those lovely eggs and I thought, 'aha! A souffle!'"
"You do realize that most people, upon seeing a basket of eggs, would think 'omelette' or 'boiled'.”
Anna laughed. "How boring. Speaking of, did you buy more on your way home?" She stood again and moved to the sink. I was treated to a view of her back, and more freckles. From this angle, they pooled over her shoulder blades like a pair of wings painted on her skin. I wondered if they collected over her spine and couldn't for the life of me recall if they did. Hadn't I just given her an examination two days ago? Back then, I hadn't been paying attention.
I was paying attention now. Never in my life had I considered freckles to be anything particularly interesting. Yet I couldn't keep my eyes off these.
All at once I realized she had effectively ended the conversation by doing the exact opposite of what I'd told her to do. "Anna!" I admonished, rising, "That's it. Stop what you're doing right now."
"But--"
"Now." I took the bowl from her hands and gave her a towel. "Dry off and take off the apron and please, just sit down somewhere."
I saw her consider arguing, but perhaps my tone got through to her at last. She nodded and did as I said, leaving the apron on the island. I shook my head, half to clear it and half in bemusement. Then I finished the dishes alone.
***
When I emerged from the kitchen at last, two mugs of tea in hand, I joined Anna on the living room couch. She'd drawn the blanket from her bed around her like a cape. Gigia sat near her, hissing whenever Anna looked her way, but the stubborn cat was unwilling to give up her favorite spot. Anna smiled up at me when I appeared. One of my medical history texts lay open on her lap.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, holding it up. "I found it in one of those boxes along the wall."
Part of me wanted to tell her to put it back, but I quelled the impulse. "Of course," I said instead, eyeing the open boxes. I hoped she hadn't dug through the contents too much. "I call it my library. They're books and records my colleagues left behind after the Departure."
"Other doctors?" She turned the tablet over in her hands. "I wondered why there were so many of these. Why don't you consolidate them? Surely everything would fit on one…"
"I haven't had time," I said curtly. Then, less so, "I'm still working through the contents. Not everything is compatible, and I'm concerned I'll lose or corrupt the files if I make a mistake." I shrugged. "It's a big task. Some of those records are the only copies left."
"Huh." She bit her lip and contemplated the old tablet. "I see. Well, so long as you don't mind. I just didn’t want to sit in bed anymore," she said, tapping the screen to turn the page. "I really wanted to take a walk but I had a feeling you'd be angry about that."
"You're one hundred percent right." I sat next to her and handed her one of the cups. Gigia stood, stretched, and crawled across Anna's lap to sit on mine. I appeased her disdain at being left with this unfamiliar person by scratching between her ears.
Anna gave us a wistful look. "I have been trying to get her to sit with me all day. She just grouses and stomps around instead."
"Gigia doesn't like anyone," I said. "Not even me, sometimes. It's something we have in common."
"I don't believe that." She pulled her legs up onto the couch, tucked under the blanket. "You like me, don't you?"
There were so many ways I could have answered that. "Perhaps I just like things a certain way, then." I took a sip of tea to cover my discomfiture and took out my tablet to go over my notes. "I get upset when things disrupt my routine."
"Hmm." She turned her attention back to the book. I could not imagine that she enjoyed it much, considering the subject entailed a scholarly dissertation about cartilage regeneration. The book itself was hopelessly out of date. But she was quiet for the moment, and her oddly fascinating freckles stayed hidden.
For a short while, silence reigned. I attempted to organize my thoughts, to record what had happened throughout the day, and failed.
"Dottore," Anna's voice broke into my thoughts and dashed them aside. "Do you think I could go for a walk tomorrow?"
"It depends on how you feel," I said irritably. "And certainly not alone."
She put the tablet aside. "Then you'll take me?" I must have sent her a dark look for she amended, "If I feel up to it, of course."
"Perhaps." To forestall the inevitable flurry of thanks, I held up my finger. "I promise nothing. But if you are good and you rest for the remainder of the evening and if I think your readings in the morning warrant it, then yes, we'll go out."
"Grazi, grazi!" She grinned widely. "I want to go to that market you told me about, the Cantabile. You know you need some proper ingredients? That pantry of yours is abysmal."
The cat made an annoyed sound and jumped down. I frowned, stung at the disparagement of my kitchen. "I happen to get by perfectly well on box noodles."
"La, of course you do." She still grinned up at me, lying through her teeth. "Don't worry, that will change."
delirioStory: H2O (Chapter 6)
Colors: Scarlet #4: After all, tomorrow is another day.
Word Count: 3780 ish
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Horribly graphic descriptions of delicious food :)
Notes: I am happy for crit, comments, or just readers. This is a story I want to publish, so feedback is highly appreciated. I have landed on posting full chapters at the moment--if you aren't able to read it all in one sitting, feel free to read to a chapter break and then come back to it later. I use *** to indicate a stopping point.
"Sorry I didn't call you yesterday," said Algus from the tablet. "My meeting with the Pater got pushed back so I don't have approval for you yet. Enjoying your eggs?"
The fork had been halfway to my mouth, but at his words, I put it down. I tried to keep the annoyance from my tone but some seeped through. "From the amount of time you spend tracking the most miniscule of my expenses, one would think you have nothing more important to do."
"You say that as if the spending habits of our only Dottore should be beneath my notice." He steepled his hands and sent me a wry look. "It wouldn't hurt you to buy more, you know. I'm glad to see you finally taking advantage of what we offer you. All the vendors are happy to provide you with whatever you want. They know they'll be compensated."
"I only take what I need," I reminded him. "Don't expect me to fall all over you in thanks for a few apples and eggs. I have a patient at home who needs to eat properly. Where is that supply truck, Algus?"
"A patient?" He evaded my question. "I wondered what caused your change of heart. Nothing serious, I hope?"
I paused. "No," I said at last, "I don't think so."
Had he heard the lie? His expression told me nothing. "Good, good. I won't keep you from your breakfast any longer."
"Wait—what about my suppl—," I said in a rush, but the screen had already gone dark. I shoved the tablet away and finished my plate of eggs without tasting them. If Algus had been the one to issue the order, I'd have gotten into the Archives right away. I'd have my shipment of medicine. I hated waiting on the Pater's whims.
I dressed and put the kettle on, then went to wake Anna. She was just as I'd left her, sleeping in nearly the same position. She seemed slightly restless, but her fever had stayed down.
The faint whirr of the medigauge woke her. She smiled when she saw me. "Hello."
"Good morning." I checked her temperature. "And how do you feel?"
"A little better. Not so achy." She sighed and shifted in bed, but did not try to sit up. "I had dreams."
"What kind of dreams?" I asked, not really listening as I checked the results of the first scan. She seemed breathless, a little weak. That was to be expected up to a point, but I wanted to be sure she was on the mend. "I'm going to run a more thorough scan. Just sit there for a moment."
"Mhmm." She relaxed back against the pillows and looked away as I took her pulse. "There was so much water, so much of it. I...I thought I might drown but it buoyed me up. Have you ever been swimming, Dottore?" Her voice wandered.
"As a boy, on the Homeworld," I replied, preoccupied with the emgee's strange readings. None of the numbers made any kind of sense. I tapped it on my thigh before checking it again.
She sighed. "It must be lovely. Soft and cool, I always imagined, like...like...air, like clouds, only dense. You can't swim here, and it's so sad."
"Mm."
"But my dream," she went on, murmuring, her voice a mere buzzing in the background. "First there were paths...no, wait, not paths. Dry creek beds, like memories of streams trickling into rivers and spilling into oceans."
The tone of her voice lulled me, and when I took her wrist to check her pulse, I slipped into a memory.
I'd been a child when it happened. The rain had fallen for days, cutting through the heat of summer like a blade. The bacino idrico flooded its banks on the last day of the storm, all at once, the earthen dam too sodden to hold any longer. I ran with my brother to higher ground, but just before I reached the stones set in the hillside, I paused in the road, transfixed by the wall of water rushing at me. It splashed against the ancient houses of that tiny village, its leading edge leaping like horses. It would have swept me away, but someone grabbed my collar and pulled me to safety…
"...Dottore?"
The sound of my title broke the spell. I was back in my spare room, just where I'd been all along. My hand cradled Anna's wrist, my fingers resting against her pulse point. The current raced under her skin.
I looked at her, lost.
"Dottore?" she said again, and this time I paid attention. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I said flatly. "Can you stand?"
She nodded and struggled to sit up properly. She had to pull her arm away; the break in contact felt like a gulf opened up between us. I felt dazed. What had that been? I'd been so sure it was real. I swear I could still smell the water rushing under my feet as I'd been dragged up out of harm's way. I half expected my hand to come away wet when I patted down my vest and tried to smooth my hair.
I helped Anna to the washroom and when she silently closed the door, I continued down the hall to the kitchen where the kettle whistled. I needed tea.
No, that wasn't right. What I needed was something stronger, but tea would have to do.
***
Domani gave me a strange look when she met me at her door. “Something’s happened,” she said without any other greeting. “Tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.” She poked the air as if popping invisible bubbles. "I can see it all around you. And even if I couldn't, you look pale."
"I said it's nothing!" The words came out more forcefully than I intended. I reined in my temper, took a breath. "I mean it. I'm just tired, that's all."
She crossed her arms. Today she wore dozens of tiny silver bracelets that jangled with every movement she made. "You're working too hard."
"There's not much I can do about that."
"You could demand more help--"
I stayed her with an upraised hand. "Trust me, I just had this conversation with Algus. Please, Domani. Can you just watch Anna for a bit so I can do my rounds?"
"So you're keeping her another day?" She tsk'd. "What would the Church say if they knew—"
"Domani."
"Oh, don't mind me. It doesn't bother me either way. But you're treating her like a child. She is a grown woman, you know."
"Just yesterday you called her a girl, yourself," I reminded her.
She peered at me through the wavy fall of her hair, then nodded. "All right," she relented. “I’ll be up in a moment. Go see to your other patients.”
“Thank you,” I said with no little relief. But even when I turned to go, I still felt Domani’s eyes on my back, watching me with a dark frown. I was glad to escape into the cold sunlight. The strangeness with Anna and now this from Domani...I wanted time to clear my head, and a nice, ordinary checkup would be just the thing.
***
I stopped at the hospital to check up on the quarantine patients. Anna's apparently swift recovery had me doubting myself whether she'd had Delirio at all to begin with. All the others still lay in their comas, unmoving except for the rise and fall of their chests. As I walked through the ward, I imagined Anna as one of them and couldn't picture it. She was too vibrant and alive to be cold and still in one of these beds.
Valeria found me standing by Luca. She seemed more frazzled than usual. "I finished the inventory you requested."
"How are our supplies?" I did some mental math. "How long—"
"Days," she said bleakly. She met my gaze with tired eyes. "A week at most. We can't handle a full scale epidemic, Dottore. Not unless we get that delivery. What's keeping them?"
"I don't know."
She didn't even frown. Her exhaustion was evident in the slump of her shoulders and the way she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You know what it is?" she murmured. "I can see it so clearly." She gestured to the room. "It's this."
"The quarantine?"
"Delirio." She gave a humorless laugh. "You want to study Delirio and Pater doesn't want that. So he's cutting you off. He's done it before."
"You can't be serious."
Valeria cocked her head at me, brow raised. "You'll see." With a note of finality, she pushed away from the wall and left me alone with the Delirio patients, who merely slept on. For now.
***
My tablet chimed as I paused to grab a quick meal from a vendor on the far side of Cantabile. It was Domani's chime; I practically dropped the wrapped sandwich in my haste to answer. "Is everything all right? What's happened?"
"La, Dottore!" It wasn't Domani at all, but Anna, smiling up at me. "I just called to see if you'd be home for dinner."
The sudden sense of utter relief that nothing was wrong startled me and made my reply come out far more curt than I intended. "I don't know. What are you doing out of bed?"
"I'm only up for a moment. I am getting tired of lying down all the time." Her chin went up slightly. "It's not like I'm going for walks or anything. Though do you think we could go for one soon? I am feeling much better--"
"Anna," I said with as much patience as I could, "Is there a purpose to this call?"
"I already told you. I am making dinner. Don't eat before you return. Oh, and you should pick up more eggs."
Eggs? "But I just bought some yesterday," I protested. She only laughed.
"Souffles take a lot of them. Come home soon, all right? I made dessert, too." She waved. "That's all. Have a good afternoon!"
"Anna, wait--" I was too late. She signed off before I could say no. I stood there on the sidewalk, sandwich and bag in one hand, staring at the tablet in the other. I could call her back. I could order her back to bed but really, what could I do if I wasn't there? She'd probably laugh again and Domani would back her up. I sighed.
I had to admit that the prospect of a souffle made my sandwich less appealing. I'd buy the eggs as she asked, but only because I wanted them for breakfast myself. We'd have a talk later about how she shouldn't be out of bed, and about making things without checking with me first.
After dessert, of course.
***
Domani met me at the door with a grin. "I had to make sure you didn't make too much noise coming in," she said as she took charge of shutting it. "Your dinner is just coming out of the oven. I don't think you want it to fall."
"What is going on?" I demanded, lowering my voice halfway through the sentence. "You were supposed to watch her."
"I did," she replied. "I watched her sit in bed until she thought her legs would walk off without her, and then I watched her go through your cabinets in search of something usable. The souffle was her idea."
"I don't even have a cookbook, though." I found Anna gingerly withdrawing a high-sided dish from the oven. "How did you…"
She'd changed her clothes. I almost didn’t recognize the woman in my kitchen. Gone was the shapeless nightgown, and in its place she wore a form-fitting green top and a blue skirt that swirled around her legs. Her arms and shoulders were bare, covered only in the freckles that gathered at her shoulders and elbows and trickled down over her skin. I realized too late that I was staring; Domani nudged me but Anna didn't seem to notice.
Anna straightened and turned to me with a smile. She'd tied back her hair with a scarf, not that it obeyed very well. "Good timing," she said cheerfully, "Did you have a good day?"
"No, but there's not much I can do about it now." Domani nudged me again and I cleared my throat. "You, ah, you look very…" I cast about for a word that would be appropriate. I'd left a patient only to find a woman in her place. "…comfortable," I finished lamely.
Domani let out an exasperated sound and threw her hands up in the air. "Such a way with the ladies! They must swoon when you tell them their shoes are very sensible."
I thought that unfair. Apparently, Anna did as well. "I told you he'd have more important things on his mind than fashion," she scolded lightly. "Let the man eat his dinner."
"Fine, fine." The moment Anna turned away, Domani's pleasant smile went hard-edged. Sotto voce, she hissed, "You're welcome. Don't be an ass to her." Then the edge disappeared, and in a more normal tone, she said, "I've got a busy day tomorrow. Anna, you can keep my tablet until you get one of your own. I barely use it. Goodnight, my dears."
With a flutter of her fingertips, she turned and swept from the room, stately despite her cane. I heard her carefully close the door behind her, and then I was left alone with Anna.
"Sit," she offered. "I'll get a plate for you."
I did as she asked but my conscience nagged at me. "You shouldn't be working like this," I began, but she shook her head.
"I've been feeling all day like I needed to get up and move, so I thought I'd look around your kitchen. Do you know how many packages of box noodles you had?" She gave a delicate shudder as she put the dish in front of me. "You need some real food."
The top of the souffle had collapsed slightly as it cooled, but the smell made my mouth water. I fought to keep my air of authority in the face of such a beautiful meal. "Real food or no, you are still sick."
"Which is why all I did was a souffle. And a custard for dessert. Don't look at me like that! What else was I supposed to do with all those yolks? Domani had a stash of cardamom in her kitchen." She took the fork and pierced the souffle, then handed it to me. "Here. Taste. How do you like it?"
To humor her, I took a bite. "It's…amazing." The last time I'd eaten something so refined had been before the Departure, and I'd certainly paid an exorbitant amount of money for it. Yet here I sat with this unassuming, sweet-faced young woman who watched me with her chin in her hand and a smile curving her lips because she knew, she knew what her food was doing to me.
No sooner had I finished the souffle than she swapped the dish for a small bowl. "Cardamom custard," she murmured. I noticed that she had her own bowl as well. "Let's see how it set."
Of course, it, too, was perfect. We ate with gusto, our spoons clinking against the sides of our bowls. As much as I enjoyed the meal, however, I couldn't avoid my duties as her doctor. "We need to talk," I said when she stood to take our dishes. "Anna, please. Sit down."
"In a moment, let me just wash--"
"Anna. Sit down."
I thought she might argue more, but surprisingly, she listened. "You're very good at that."
"At what?"
"That tone. Very imperious." I had the notion that she was teasing me, but she only waited with a faint smile. "I couldn't help but obey."
"Yes. Well." The sight of her in normal clothes should not have been as distracting as it was. In them, she was a woman, not just a patient. That revelation led me down a dangerous path, one I hadn't expected to follow. I was supposed to remain neutral. Neutral to politics, neutral to creed, neutral to gender. Yet while I struggled to speak to her as her doctor, in some small corner of my mind I connected those freckles to each other, one by one as they disappeared under the low, swooping neckline of her shirt.
"Dottore?"
Focus, Massi, focus, I ordered myself. "While I thoroughly enjoyed your cooking--"
"I'm glad you did!" She beamed.
Focus. "Yes. While I enjoyed it, yes, I do not approve of you sacrificing your rest in order to cook. You're not my housekeeper, you're my patient."
"Oh, I know. But I couldn't sit still anymore. I feel this…drive. I need to do something." She shrugged. "Then I saw those lovely eggs and I thought, 'aha! A souffle!'"
"You do realize that most people, upon seeing a basket of eggs, would think 'omelette' or 'boiled'.”
Anna laughed. "How boring. Speaking of, did you buy more on your way home?" She stood again and moved to the sink. I was treated to a view of her back, and more freckles. From this angle, they pooled over her shoulder blades like a pair of wings painted on her skin. I wondered if they collected over her spine and couldn't for the life of me recall if they did. Hadn't I just given her an examination two days ago? Back then, I hadn't been paying attention.
I was paying attention now. Never in my life had I considered freckles to be anything particularly interesting. Yet I couldn't keep my eyes off these.
All at once I realized she had effectively ended the conversation by doing the exact opposite of what I'd told her to do. "Anna!" I admonished, rising, "That's it. Stop what you're doing right now."
"But--"
"Now." I took the bowl from her hands and gave her a towel. "Dry off and take off the apron and please, just sit down somewhere."
I saw her consider arguing, but perhaps my tone got through to her at last. She nodded and did as I said, leaving the apron on the island. I shook my head, half to clear it and half in bemusement. Then I finished the dishes alone.
***
When I emerged from the kitchen at last, two mugs of tea in hand, I joined Anna on the living room couch. She'd drawn the blanket from her bed around her like a cape. Gigia sat near her, hissing whenever Anna looked her way, but the stubborn cat was unwilling to give up her favorite spot. Anna smiled up at me when I appeared. One of my medical history texts lay open on her lap.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, holding it up. "I found it in one of those boxes along the wall."
Part of me wanted to tell her to put it back, but I quelled the impulse. "Of course," I said instead, eyeing the open boxes. I hoped she hadn't dug through the contents too much. "I call it my library. They're books and records my colleagues left behind after the Departure."
"Other doctors?" She turned the tablet over in her hands. "I wondered why there were so many of these. Why don't you consolidate them? Surely everything would fit on one…"
"I haven't had time," I said curtly. Then, less so, "I'm still working through the contents. Not everything is compatible, and I'm concerned I'll lose or corrupt the files if I make a mistake." I shrugged. "It's a big task. Some of those records are the only copies left."
"Huh." She bit her lip and contemplated the old tablet. "I see. Well, so long as you don't mind. I just didn’t want to sit in bed anymore," she said, tapping the screen to turn the page. "I really wanted to take a walk but I had a feeling you'd be angry about that."
"You're one hundred percent right." I sat next to her and handed her one of the cups. Gigia stood, stretched, and crawled across Anna's lap to sit on mine. I appeased her disdain at being left with this unfamiliar person by scratching between her ears.
Anna gave us a wistful look. "I have been trying to get her to sit with me all day. She just grouses and stomps around instead."
"Gigia doesn't like anyone," I said. "Not even me, sometimes. It's something we have in common."
"I don't believe that." She pulled her legs up onto the couch, tucked under the blanket. "You like me, don't you?"
There were so many ways I could have answered that. "Perhaps I just like things a certain way, then." I took a sip of tea to cover my discomfiture and took out my tablet to go over my notes. "I get upset when things disrupt my routine."
"Hmm." She turned her attention back to the book. I could not imagine that she enjoyed it much, considering the subject entailed a scholarly dissertation about cartilage regeneration. The book itself was hopelessly out of date. But she was quiet for the moment, and her oddly fascinating freckles stayed hidden.
For a short while, silence reigned. I attempted to organize my thoughts, to record what had happened throughout the day, and failed.
"Dottore," Anna's voice broke into my thoughts and dashed them aside. "Do you think I could go for a walk tomorrow?"
"It depends on how you feel," I said irritably. "And certainly not alone."
She put the tablet aside. "Then you'll take me?" I must have sent her a dark look for she amended, "If I feel up to it, of course."
"Perhaps." To forestall the inevitable flurry of thanks, I held up my finger. "I promise nothing. But if you are good and you rest for the remainder of the evening and if I think your readings in the morning warrant it, then yes, we'll go out."
"Grazi, grazi!" She grinned widely. "I want to go to that market you told me about, the Cantabile. You know you need some proper ingredients? That pantry of yours is abysmal."
The cat made an annoyed sound and jumped down. I frowned, stung at the disparagement of my kitchen. "I happen to get by perfectly well on box noodles."
"La, of course you do." She still grinned up at me, lying through her teeth. "Don't worry, that will change."