Seven

 

The ward was both busy and short-staffed. Too many had succumbed to early colds with the onset of the winter weather. I barely managed to get breaks for the remainder of my week, so in my brief time in the cafeteria I saw nothing of the intern.

As always, busy periods are succeeded by lulls. I was granted a longer lunch break than usual when an influx of third-year nursing students invaded the hospital. The shortage of staff became a surplus that I was pleased to enjoy, however briefly.

Lunch came with another unexpected surprise – the first harvest of winter vegetables was in. The menu board proudly advertised this, along with the Return of the Rainbow Lasagne.

I surveyed the colourful, layered slab on my plate as I sat down at a table by the window, trying to work out what was in each layer. The red meat sauce I recognised, along with the pumpkin beneath it. The squash and zucchini layers I identified after a few moments, but the blue and purple ones left me mystified. I carved up a bite and forked it into my mouth, hoping the taste might help me.

I admitted defeat as I swallowed, resolving to let it remain a mystery. I opened my eyes to cut another piece, still puzzled.

"Blue cheese and eggplant," the intern's voice murmured as his lasagne-topped plate landed on the table across from mine.

I looked up in time to see him sit down.

"I asked the server at the counter," he admitted with a grin. "Is it good?"

Slowly, I nodded.

"Then I get a double bonus at lunch today. Good food and good company." He shovelled a large bite of lasagne into his mouth.

If he classed me as good company, I felt sorry for the man, but not enough to tell him so. I was certain he'd soon work out there were other staff who'd be far better company than I could ever be. Silence, sadness and all.

My fork clinked against the plate as I cut another slice with more force that necessary, shoving it into my mouth before I said something.

My mouth safely full, I dared to look up at his face again, meeting expectant eyes with surprise. Had he said something that I'd missed?

Evidently so.

His smile seemed to forgive my rudeness, as he said, "I just asked if you liked fishing, because I seem to have found a really great fishing spot and it'd be a shame not to share it. Down near my house, on the inlet, I caught a big, fat bream, fishing from the shore a few days ago. I thought maybe if you were free on the weekend, you might like to come fishing with me..." He trailed off.

I swallowed with difficulty, forcing myself not to choke. "No, thank you," I managed to say. "I don't fish."

"Ah, that's a pity," he replied. "I could show you, if you like. I have all the gear. All you'd have to bring is yourself. I'd even offer to scale and clean your catch..."

I shook my head strongly. "No. I'm busy studying this weekend."

I hurried to finish my meal, yet I wasn't fast enough to head off his reply. "Fair enough." He sounded sad. "If you ever change your mind, just say the word."

I shot up from my seat, my mouth full. I gave him a curt nod as I passed him, taking my plate to the dish racks in the kitchen.

Longing rose up in me. I wanted to go fishing more than I could say, the taste of fresh fish haunting my tongue, but I wouldn't until I headed home. I had to finish my term as a student midwife and complete my exams before I could fish in the warm waters of home for wahoo and tuna, Spanish mackerel and mahi-mahi. Big fish for which a bream was nothing but undersized bait.

As I left the cafeteria, I noticed the intern speaking to the server and both sharing a smile. I ardently hoped this meant he'd found a new focus for his friendship. Perhaps another girl might find the burden of his kindness easier to bear.