Prodigal Son (7 page)

Seth was sitting huddled on the couch with a blanket over his shoulders, and a wracking cough. He had refused to have anyone care for him in the months he’d been alone, and insisted he could do it himself. The house was in good order, but the old man on the couch looked very, very sick. He was eighty-five years old. His wife had been eighty-seven when she died. They had been married for sixty-seven years, and had been childhood sweethearts. Michael knew only too well that a loss like that was tough for a man his age to survive, and he didn’t like what he saw now.

“How are you feeling, Seth?” Michael asked gently as he sat down next to him on the couch and opened his bag. He could see from the old man’s eyes, without touching him, that he was feverish, and he shivered as though he were cold.

“I’m feeling all right,” the old man said politely, as Michael took
his stethoscope out of his bag. “All I have is a cold.” He glanced at his daughter in annoyance, and she smiled. “There’s no need to make a fuss over it. A couple of days, and I’ll be fine. Barbara made some soup for me, that’s all I need. She shouldn’t have called you.” He scolded his daughter, and the doctor smiled.

“If she didn’t call me, how do you expect me to feed my family?” Michael said, teasing him. He had an easygoing, friendly style that went over well with his patients, especially the elderly and the children. He was one of the few doctors in town and by far the most popular, and everybody trusted him. He handled all their ailments, and if they needed specialists for serious problems, he sent them to Boston. But most of the time, they preferred to just see him. “I have to make a living somehow, you know. It’s a good thing Barbara called me.” The old man guffawed and looked a little less ill as he relaxed. No matter how sick a patient was, there was never anything ominous about Michael’s home visits. He made even bad situations seem less frightening, with his reassurance. And Seth would never forget how wonderful he had been to his late wife. Michael had kept her comfortable until the end. Michael had recommended a nurse at the house for her, during her final days, but he came out twice a day himself. Seth’s late wife had been so grateful to him that she had left Michael a small bequest, nothing important, they didn’t have a lot of money. But she had told her husband before she died that she wanted to do that for him. It was only ten thousand dollars, but it was a lot to them, and a gesture of a lifetime of respect. Michael had been embarrassed and grateful when he received it, and told Seth that he was putting it toward his daughter’s college fund, since she wanted to enter a pre-med program when she graduated from high school in two years, and every penny helped.

Michael had a solid, lucrative practice, but he also had an invalid wife and two children. His wife had been sick for all the years they’d been married. He had married her when he was in medical school. Like everyone else, he had responsibilities and financial burdens, and he had been surprised and grateful for the gift.

Michael listened to the old man’s chest, and nodded with a smile. Nothing he did or said was alarming. He was all kindness and knew just how to calm his patients’ fears.

“I’m happy to confirm your heart is beating nicely,” he said in a joking manner and the old man laughed.

“I’m not sure if that’s good news or bad news now that Hannah’s gone,” Seth said with a wistful look. Michael knew how much he missed her, and he and Barbara both worried that Seth would die of a broken heart, or just stop eating and let himself starve. He had lost a lot of weight since his wife died.

“The good news is that you don’t have pneumonia. Yet,” Michael said seriously. “But you will if you don’t take care of yourself. I don’t want you going outside until you get rid of that cough. I’m going to give you some antibiotics, and you have to take them until they’re gone, not just until you feel better. I’m giving you some cough syrup too. You can take aspirin for your fever, and that’s good for your heart.” Seth had had a mild heart condition for several years, which had been aggravated by his wife’s death. “I’d say this is a good time for you to sit on the couch and watch TV, stay warm, and get lots of rest, and drink Barbara’s soup. Have you got enough food in the house?” Michael asked him with a look of concern, and Seth just shrugged.

“I’m going to pick up some groceries now,” Barbara said in a low voice. Neighbors had been bringing him casseroles and roasts for
months, but he ate very little, and was getting thinner. She had tried to talk her father into moving to Boston, so she could be near him, but he said he wasn’t leaving his house.

“I’ll come by with your medicines later today,” Michael informed him reassuringly. “I want you to promise me you’ll take them,” he said as his patient growled. Barbara was equally impressed that Michael would bring the medicines to the house. He always went out of his way to make the extra gestures for his patients, and go the extra mile. It was why everyone loved him so much.

Michael sat and chatted with them for a few more minutes before he left. He never gave his patients or their families the impression that he was in a rush. He always appeared to have all the time in the world to listen to their problems, especially if they were lonely or old. He had a particular gift with his geriatric patients, and sometimes he admitted that he loved them best of all. They were the forgotten ones most of the time.

Barbara inquired about his wife as she walked him to the front door. “How’s Maggie doing?” she asked with a look of compassionate concern. Barbara had been two classes ahead of her in college when Maggie had the fall on the skating pond that changed her life. She hadn’t seen her now in a long time, Maggie rarely ventured out, and her husband and daughter cared for her at home.

“Some days are better than others, but she’s a good sport about it. We’re lucky we have Lisa to take care of her. It’s going to be tough when she goes to college.” Both her parents were hoping she’d stay nearby. It would be a sacrifice for Lisa, but she was devoted to both her parents, and said she wouldn’t mind.

Michael waved as he hurried down the front steps. He had four more home visits to make before he brought Seth his medicines and
then went home. He had a newborn to see, and three of his older patients. The able-bodied usually came to his office, but he was always willing to make house calls, even on weekends or late at night. This was his life. The only other thing he cared about was his family. He had never wanted a flashy career, financial success, or an important life. He was a country doctor, faithfully serving his patients. That had always been enough for him—unlike his twin brother, who had gone after fame and fortune in New York and only came back for his parents’ funerals and never since.

The two brothers couldn’t have been more different, even though they were twins. Their mother had said that about them since they were born. Even as a toddler, Peter had been hot-headed, and given to rages as he grew up. Michael was quiet and patient. Peter constantly had to be punished. Michael rarely needed discipline. He had been gentle and even tempered, caring and thoughtful of his parents. As a teenager, he was always doing errands for his mother, and favors for people in the neighborhood. He was loved by all, while Peter was at war with the world.

Peter had been regarded as a bully at school, particularly when the other children teased him about not being able to read until he was nearly twelve years old, and awkwardly even after that. Anyone who dared mention it to him was sure to get a black eye or bloody nose. His parents were constantly apologizing for him. They were always embarrassed by Peter, and praised for Michael’s behavior.

Michael had been at the top of his class from first grade to last. He won every award in school, and lorded it over his younger twin whenever he could, usually out of earshot of their parents. Peter reported it to them frequently, and when they didn’t believe him, he took care of it himself. He grew taller than Michael as he got older,
and had beaten him up more than once, which inevitably got him punished too. It had been a relief to their father when he finally left home. He couldn’t stand the fighting anymore. Their mother insisted that underneath it all, Peter was a good boy, but given his obstreperous, rebellious nature, and the physical fights with his twin and the boys in school, by the end of high school, there was no one who believed in Peter’s good heart except his mother. Michael was so much easier to love.

And he stayed close to them once he grew up. Although he loved his work as an anesthesiologist in Boston, Michael couldn’t wait to come back to Ware once his father invited him into his practice. He had abandoned his dreams to come home. And once there, he loved working in a small town, and having patients who truly depended on him. And he had loved sharing an office with his father. He always said it was what he had always hoped for. Dr. Pat, his father, had quickly observed Michael’s talent with the elderly, and had passed on all his geriatric patients to him. They all adored young Dr. Mike even more than his father. He had a compassionate nature and made the transition into the next world easier for them, and their loved ones. Everyone felt safer with Dr. Mike around. Not only did he live by his Hippocratic oath to do no harm, he did more good than any doctor they had ever known, even his father, who had gotten a little cantankerous and less patient as he got old. Michael was infinitely patient, endlessly caring, a skilled doctor, and beloved by all.

Michael pulled into his driveway just after eight o’clock. He was living in the home that had been his parents’, and had moved into it fifteen years before, when his mother died, and she left it to him. It was a big, rambling old house, and had been wonderful for him and
Maggie and their children. Bill had been seven when they moved in, and Lisa a year old.

Michael had married Maggie twenty-three years before. They had known each other growing up, though he hadn’t paid much attention to her, she’d been closer to Peter. But a skating accident she had at twenty brought them together. She had been in a coma for several months. He’d been in medical school then, and once she began to recover, he had visited her whenever he came home. He evidenced deep concern for her and surprised everyone when he married her a year later, despite her fragile health. It contributed even further to people’s high opinion of him, and still did. After her accident, Maggie had been an invalid for all of their married life. Michael had kept her alive, and they were grateful to have been blessed with two children.

A third baby had been conceived two years after Lisa, their second-born, but Maggie was so frail by then that Michael had insisted that she have a medically recommended abortion. They had two healthy children, miraculously, and he told her he didn’t want to lose the wife he adored to a third. He was certain she wasn’t strong enough to carry another child to term. And she had been heartbroken, but agreed. She trusted Michael implicitly with her medical treatment. She had total faith that he always knew what was best for her. When their children had been born, he had cared for her during her pregnancies, and only brought an obstetrician in to assist at the delivery. He didn’t trust anyone with her care except himself. She knew that no one loved her as he did, or knew her as well.

Michael had kept her alive despite the catastrophic effects of her accident. Maggie was only twenty then, and a talented ice skater. She
had been skating with friends on the pond when a piece of bark frozen in the ice had caught the picks on her figure skates. She had gone flying, and landed backward on her head. She had fractured her skull, and seeing her unconscious on the ice, everyone thought she was dead. She was airlifted to Boston, and lay in a coma for five months. She had surgery to relieve the pressure on her brain, and the doctors had been unable to predict how severe the consequences would be if she survived. Her parents had been overwhelmed with gratitude when she came out of the coma. She was their only child, and they doted on her.

Her mother had nursed her back to health, and worked hard on her rehabilitation with her. Maggie had been unable to walk at first, and eventually therapists got her walking again, although unsteadily, and stiff legged on one side. Although young and beautiful, she walked like someone who had had a stroke, but she was back on her feet. Her dream had been to walk and dance and wear high heels again, but that was not to be. She was able to walk, but never steadily, and frequently her bad leg gave out. She was good humored and brave about it, but frustrated that she was never able to progress further than that.

And the other most noticeable effect of the accident was slurred speech for a long time. She had had to learn to talk all over again, as well as walk. Her speech finally recovered, but her leg never did. She was a beautiful girl, just as she had been before the accident. But at first she had difficultly speaking, and remembering words sometimes. It made people think that she was slow of mind now as well as speech, which was not the case, but it seemed that way.

And friends who felt sorry for her and were busy with their own activities visited her less and less. It was Michael who came to visit
her regularly once she came home from the hospital, and began to realize what a remarkable young woman she was. He brought her books and magazines and little gifts. He always comforted her about her condition, and praised her for her progress. He took her out walking sometimes, and held her arm in his firm, steady grip. And he reassured her about her nerves. He told her that she would always be delicate now, and easy prey for infections and diseases since her system had been so weakened. His greatest concern was for some kind of paralysis to set in later, and he insisted that it was best for her to stay away from people and not to risk infection that could cost her her life.

He kept her company at home when no one else would. Michael made her feel protected. He didn’t care how awkward her speech was, or how unsteady she was on her feet. He was there for her whenever he could be, despite the demands of medical school. And he was an extraordinary support and solace to her when her mother died in a car crash the year after Maggie’s accident. It was a devastating loss to her and her father, and Michael impressed everyone shortly after when he proposed. It was obvious to everyone that Maggie would always be frail. Maggie herself had been convinced that no man would ever want her now, with her clumsy speech and awkward gait. Instead Michael made her feel like the most loved woman alive, and she felt so lucky to have him. Her father had been enormously relieved as well. He had been even more worried about Maggie now that her mother was gone. He had been busy with his lumber mill, and didn’t have time to take care of her. He knew Michael always would. It was an enormous comfort to him. He couldn’t wish for better for his injured daughter than to be married to a devoted doctor.