Honor: A Novel(6)

She drew closer to the group in the hallway and was about to look away, not wanting to eavesdrop on what was obviously an impassioned argument, when she noticed that one of them was Mohan. But whereas he had been languid last evening, he now looked tense and angry as he glared at the nurse and a young man in a white coat. “I’m telling you, get Dr. Pal here immediately. The patient needs better pain control than this.”

“But, sir, I told you . . .” the young resident said.

“Arre, yaar, how many times are we going to go round and round? I told you, we are not happy with her treatment. Now, go tell your supervisor to come talk to us.”

“As you wish.” The young man walked away briskly, the nurse following.

“Hi,” Smita said, and Mohan looked up at her, startled.

“Oh, hi,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to get here on your own. I was just getting ready to come pick you up.”

“I’m glad to have saved you a trip.” Smita glanced at the woman standing next to Mohan. “Hello. I’m Smita.”

The woman, who appeared to be in her twenties, gave her a broad smile. “Oh, hello, madam. I spoke to you on the phone yesterday. I’m Nandini. Shannon’s translator.”

“Nice to meet you,” Smita said. But a small part of her was resentful. Shannon obviously had all these people here to help. Had she really needed to interrupt her vacation? “Where’s her room? Can I see her?”

“Yes, madam. Just a minute, madam.” Nandini gave Mohan a flustered glance and walked away.

“They’re giving her a bedpan,” Mohan explained, following Smita’s puzzled gaze.

“Oh.” Smita shuddered. “How do they even . . .”

“Very, very carefully. Even though Shannon doesn’t think so. I don’t think these nurses have ever heard anyone curse like she does.”

She saw that he was trying to keep a straight face. “I know what you mean. She’s a legend in the newsroom, too.” She cocked her head. “You’re not working today?”

“No. I was supposed to be on vacation in Singapore this week,” he said. “But the friend I was going with came down with dengue fever. So I canceled. Now, I’m off for two weeks.”

“You didn’t go by yourself?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He peered down at her and made a rueful face. “I’m not like you and Shannon. Independent. I hate traveling alone. In fact, I hate being alone, to be honest. I guess I’m a typical Mumbai boy in that respect.”

Mohan’s tone was ironic, as if he was mocking himself. Still, no self-respecting American male would have admitted to such a thing. If one of the Indian American men her mother had tried setting her up with when she was younger had made such a confession to her, she would have been contemptuous. But as she stood there in the hospital hallway, Mohan’s admission felt normal. Human. She could see his point of view.

Smita sighed. “Well,” she said, “looks like we both had our vacation plans upended.”

A ward boy exited the room, and a moment later Nandini rushed up to them. “Come in, madam,” she said. “Shannon is anxious to see you.”

Shannon was lying down with the head of the bed slightly raised, her hair flowing on the pillow. Even though she mustered a smile, Smita could see the sweat on her forehead, her gray eyes hazy with pain. “Hi, sweetheart,” Smita said, bending down to kiss her cheek.

“Hey. You came.”

Nandini pulled up a chair. “Sit, madam,” she said.

Smita held Shannon’s hand as she sat. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Which side is it?”

“It’s the right hip. And it’s my own goddamned fault, for reading on my phone while walking. I tripped over a curb.”

“Sorry.” Smita looked up to see Mohan and Nandini talking at the other end of the room. “When are they saying they’ll operate? Mohan said they’re waiting on a particular surgeon. But surely there are other doctors who are equally skilled?”

Shannon grimaced. “It’s a complicated surgery. I broke this same hip when I was in my twenties. Don’t even ask. So they first have to remove the old prosthesis and then put in the new one. The bone has grown all around the old hardware. It’s a mess. And this guy, Dr. Shahani, is apparently very experienced.”

“Oh my God, Shannon. I had no idea.”

“Yep.” Shannon turned her head. “Mohan. Did you ask them to call for the fucking doctor or what?”

“I did. The resident said he would . . .” He looked up. “Actually, here he is.”

Dr. Pal was a tall but stooped man. His glasses were smudged, and the eyes behind them, weary. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “How can I help?”

Shannon was immediately deferential. “Sorry to trouble you, doctor,” she said. “I . . . I just wanted to ask some questions. First of all, when exactly does Dr. Shahani get into town? And secondly, the pain is unbearable. Can’t you give me something stronger?”

The elderly doctor’s face was impassive. “You have a broken hip, Miss Carpenter. What you need is surgery to get out of pain. Unfortunately, Dr. Shahani doesn’t come back until day after tomorrow.”

Shannon winced. “Jesus.”