It had to be You

bandages, splints, bottles, and boxes, above a white counter. This area had a painted white floor. A wooden wheelchair stood in a corner. A door at the right side was probably to a storeroom. Everything looked and smelled spotlessly clean. Miss Twibell was a real professional. Being temporarily crippled and without part of her staff, she must have been at her wit’s end to keep it so pristine yet cozy.
    “I’ll introduce you to my patients now. We’ll get the worst over with first,“ Miss Twibell said in a whisper. They entered a room with a chart on the door. A young woman was standing at the opposite side of a hospital bed with a tented white sheet propped up, apparently bathing an old man’s knee.
    “Miss Brewster, this is Betty.”
    Betty glanced up and smiled briefly, saying, “Glad to meet you, Miss Brewster,“ before reach- ing to a rolling table next to her and picking up a cotton swab with shiny tongs and dabbing it on the man’s knee.
    “And this is Mr. Sean Connor. Meet Miss Brewster, Mr. Connor. We’re hoping she and her brother can do us the favor of filling in for me and Mattie for a while.”
    The man looked around the tented sheet and glared at Lily. “I don’t like strangers in my room.“ He was smallish and wrinkled but had a strong, abrasive voice.
    “Tut-tut. Don’t be rude,“ Miss Twibell said. “She won’t be a stranger for long.“ Then she went around the bed and looked at the knee and said to Betty, “Good job, dear.”
    They left his room. “I see what you mean,“ Lily said. “He’s not very pleasant. Is he seriously ill?“
    “I’m afraid he is. He broke his knee and it’s become badly inflamed. We had to lance it and now we clean it four times a day at least.“
    “Connor?“ Lily asked. “I met a Kelly Connor the day before yesterday. Any relation to your patient?“
    “Grandson,“ Miss Twibell replied. “He drops in when he can to visit his grandpa. He brings him samples of all sorts of things. He puts them on the table next to his bed, but Mr. Connor seldom uses them, except for the cigars. Come along now and meet my two ladies. They’re another kettle of fish.”
    Chapter 3
    The next two patients were a treat. Miss Jones and Miss Smith were delighted to see her. They carried on about how pretty Lily was before Miss Twibell could even tell them who Lily was.
    “Ladies, this is Miss Lily Brewster. She lives at Grace and Favor—“
    “That handsome, charming Robert Brewster must be your brother then,“ Miss Smith said. Lily had recognized her by her weight and the sticks standing beside her bed. She was sitting in a chair, surrounded by pillows, with her feet up on an ottoman. A pair of well-polished wooden walking sticks were close to her chair.
    “Not today he isn’t,“ Lily said. “I mean, he’s my brother today. But he isn’t handsome or charming right now. That’s why he’s not with me.“
    “Chicken pox, I’ll bet,“ put in the much thinner lady sitting in the chair next to the other bed. Both were fully dressed, hosed, and shod. Miss Smith was even wearing a little bit of lipstick.
    “Not quite,“ Lily said with a laugh and went on to explain what had happened to Robert in the two days before.
    “He actually saw President Roosevelt in person!“ Miss Jones said, with a slight cough finishing the statement.
    “You’ve seen him, too, and so have I,“ Miss Smith said to her friend. “Are you becoming forgetful?“
    “Of course not, Eulalia, but I haven’t seen him as the President of the United States. By the way, Miss Brewster, I’m Francine Jones. I was at the Fate with Eulalia. But you won’t have noticed me. Nobody does when she’s around,“ she said with another little laugh and a lighter cough following it.
    “You two have ruined my introduction,“ Miss Twibell said with mock anger. “I knew you would.“
    “You may call us by our first names when we’re all here in this room, dear,“ Miss Smith said. “It wouldn’t do in public, of course. As we are much older than you.“ Lily guessed that “public“ included the large living room.
    “You both have lovely first names. How did you come by them?“ Lily asked. She couldn’t sit down because there was only one other chair and Miss Twibell had subsided onto it to get off her feet.
    “Eulalia was my grandmother on my father’s side,“ Miss Smith said, beginning what sounded as if it might turn into a very long story. “She metmy grandfather when he was in