Dewdrops

Chapter 4- Myra

***Huge thank you to TheNoctisLich for the amazing new cover and for being such a supportive reader! Please check out their work when you have a chance :)***

The overpowering smell of lavender and honeysuckle smacked into Anthony as he followed Michael into the hospital room. With great difficulty he fought down the urge to clamp a hand over his nose to stop the stench from searing his nostrils.

Other than the customary hospital bed and necessary medical tools, the room had been completely redesigned. The bare white walls were completely obscured with coloring book pages haphazardly filled in with crayons and colored pencils. A fluffy pink area rug sprayed with sparkles lay near the foot of the bed, and the trail of sparkles continued across the room to a leather armchair littered with stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes.

As he looked around and saw the frilly curtains and vases overflowing with flowers, the space reminded Anthony less and less of a six year old's hospital bed and more of his grandmother's sitting room. Even now he could see her, neck down the very picture of a porcelain doll, complete with white gloves and endless layers of lace and taffeta that spilled onto the floor.

But no matter how much she tried to cover herself in silk and ruffles, she couldn't hide the fact that she too was a victim of time. Her face was etched deep with wrinkles and discolored with liver spots that seemed even darker compared to her hair, which was the color of pure white snow. Age-old crumbs, trapped in the crevices and folds of her skin, were frequently joined by new compatriots that fell and stuck to her three chins, which trembled in unison as she guzzled down scones and pots of imported tea by the hour. Although her beady black eyes were sunk deep into her skull, they could still fix on any target with such intensity of disapproval that they sent shivers up your spine.

"Good morning, Paula! Just wanted to check in again, how is she doing?" said Michael warmly.

Anthony turned to the right and saw a middle-aged nurse get up from her seat by the computer. She was dressed in tennis shoes and dark blue scrubs that hugged her plump figure a bit too tightly round the middle. Her jet-black hair was cut in a sharp bob that accentuated her round face, which was caked with drugstore makeup. She appeared around five feet in height and was all smiles.

"Good morning, Michael," she said in a heavy Hispanic accent, "Oh, the same you know. After the procedure you did in the morning, she said she felt less pain and could breathe better but that she was still tired. I propped her up with pillows like you instructed, but nothing else to report. Who is this with you?" she said, pointing at Anthony, her eyes sparkling.

"Ah yes, Paula please meet Dr. Anthony Stanton. Anthony comes to us all the way from England! He was chosen to complete a research fellowship here at Manifort Hospital, and he will be working with me on Myra's case. Anthony, this is Paula García, the nurse who oversees Myra."

"Nice to meet you, madam," said Anthony calmly while extending a hand in greeting, "I'm looking forward to working with you for the duration of my fellowship."

"¡Ay, qué guapo! Myra, aren't we lucky to have such a handsome doctor!" she exclaimed loudly, sounding all too similar to a certain man he had met that morning. If Paula wasn't well acquainted with Richard Manifort yet, Anthony made a mental note to introduce them.

"Excuse me!" cried Michael, "What about me?"

"Oh, Michael, you are nice too," she said laughing, quickly releasing Anthony, whose hands she had seized with both of hers, before running towards Michael.

As she continued to reassure Michael, who was pouting in a corner with his arms crossed, Anthony looked towards the bed from which he heard a soft voice chuckling.

Staring back at him was a young Mexican girl, propped up on the bed with a few too many pillows. She was small and frail, and her body appeared to be drowning in a hospital gown two sizes too big for her. The healthy glow of youth was absent from her face save a small spot of pink on each cheek. But where her skin lacked color, her hair made up for in sheen. Beautiful thick chocolate curls, held in place with a pink bow, cradled her face and ended just above her shoulders. Perhaps, her most astonishing feature though was her dark blue eyes. Her irises were like two sapphires fixed in infinite pools of milky white, and if the light shone on them just right, specks of brown, gold, and violet seemed to emerge from their depths. One could easily get lost in their mysterious beauty, but what was most surprising was the look inside them. They possessed an unmistakable level of maturity and poise that Anthony had never seen in the eyes of children her own age.

Flashing him a wide, gap toothed smile, she slowly raised a thin arm and waved to him in greeting.

"Hi there," she called calmly.

"Anthony, this is Myra Ramirez," said Michael, who had managed to successfully disentangle himself from Paula. "Myra has been with us for about two months now, I believe, and she's personally my favorite patient," he said, giving her a friendly wink. "I had drained the built up fluid in her lungs at about nine this morning, but given the track record we've been seeing, we'll have to come in again in the evening to perform a second operation. Myra's been a trooper though it all though and so patient as well. Myra, this is Dr. Anthony Stanton, and like I was saying to Paula, he's going to be a new addition to your care team."

"Thank you, Michael," she replied, still smiling sweetly, "It's nice to meet you, Anthony. Is it all right if I call you that?"

Before Anthony could reply, Michael swung a muscular arm around his shoulders and piped up.

"Of course, you can!" he exclaimed, deafening Anthony with his booming voice, "Anthony doesn't care about formalities at all, right Anthony?"

Inwardly grimacing, Anthony gently extricated himself from Michael's revolting show of camaraderie.

For God's sakes, he had just met the man fifteen minutes prior. This entire hospital and its entire staff were a Human Relations nightmare!

"I suppose I don't really have an option," he muttered under his breath, moving a few steps away from Michael towards the hospital bed.

"What did you say, Anthony?" asked Michael.

"Ah nothing," Anthony replied, indifferently. "Yes, anything is fine."

"Ah, Michael," Paula chimed in. "I didn't quite understand your instructions this morning about changing the drips. Can you come look at this?" she said, motioning for him to look at something on the computer.

"Certainly!"

As the two of them huddled near the computer, Anthony let out an inward sigh of frustration. It was going to be a very long fellowship indeed. As he massaged his aching temples, the soft giggling from the bed once more drew his attention to see Myra beaming back at him.

"I heard that, you know," she whispered. "Don't worry, I don't mind calling you Dr. Stanton."

Anthony stared at the young girl looking back at him unflinchingly. Her eyes showed no affront, but still that unmistakable sense of composure and calm.

How curious...

As he opened his mouth to reply, he was immediately cut off by Michael, who had finished addressing Paula's concerns.

"Yo, Anthony! I just got a message from Alex," he said, brandishing his phone in the air, "Looks like she has a few minutes of down time now, so we can all meet up and talk about next steps. See you later, Paula and Myra!"

As Anthony followed him out of the room, he turned back to see Myra, pleasantly waving at him.

"Goodbye, Dr. Stanton. See you later." 

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