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Show 9-11 "Well. I must say. You look like I am here to cross-examine you. I feel a bit awkward." Mother smoothed her gloves out in front of her on the table, looking down at her long fingers as they arranged the fingers of the gloves. I saw then that her fingers were trembling slightly and I wanted to rush around the table and hug my mother. Mother was seldom ill at ease or unsure of herself but I knew she was now. And I wanted to reassure her, to let her know that there was nothing here for her to fear. But I let the moment pass, let my mother sit alone and smooth her gloves and face what she had come to face alone. Finally, she lifted her head and looked at me from under her broad-brimmed hat. Then she turned and looked at Andrew. Again, steadily, calmly she looked at him. "Mrs. Metcalf, Annie told me you didn't want her coming here. And that she was not supposed to be here today. I'm sorry. I should have sent her home, but I just couldn't. Her visits mean a lot to me." He pushed the checker pieces aimlessly about the board as he spoke. We all three watched his hands. "I stood and watched you for some time just now, Andrew. Annie." Mother nodded at me. "Perhaps you noticed me. I came to get Annie and was prepared to be very angry with her. I still am, that she disobeyed me." She tapped the table with one long finger and frowned at me. "But . . . ," Mother paused and looked beyond us at the men in the shadows and then at the high red walls of the hospital. She turned back to Andrew. "Perhaps Annie has told you. I'm not very good around sick people. Or around hospitals in general. I avoid them if I can. Odd that I should marry a doctor, don't you think?" She smiled at Andrew. I looked at him and saw him smile back at her. |