Hope - Levy, Marc (web ebook reader .TXT) 📗

the emergence of anesthesia. But when it came to the brain, it had a number of advantages.

“No two brains are the same, and they’re incredibly plastic,” explained Dr. Berger in his solemn voice. “Medicine doesn’t hand us a universal map guiding us to the precise spot we’re looking for. So before we begin cutting into tissue, we’ll stimulate it electrically. Meanwhile, we’ll pose questions, have you move in certain ways. We’ll ask you to think back to memories, to talk to us, or to do simple math calculations. If the electric induction prevents you from responding correctly, we’ll immediately mark that section off as a no-go zone. I understand that the idea of being conscious or awake can be worrying, but I promise you won’t feel any pain. This technique significantly reduces the risk of any aftereffects. The figures these days show less than one percent.” The doctor smiled reassuringly. “And because you were referred by my good friend Professor Flinch, I’ve managed to book us an operating time for Saturday morning. There’s no point in wasting time. You’ll come in the day before so we can run a few preliminary tests. And finally, after the operation, your migraines will be nothing more than a distant memory.”

The surgeon laughed quietly, pleased with his own joke.

The couple left the hospital reeling. Hope felt uneasy about the doctor. There had been something about him she didn’t like.

Luke invited them over, and a wave of nostalgia washed over her as she stepped into the apartment.

The loft had meant more space and privacy for them, but she sometimes missed the evenings they had whiled away in the boys’ apartment. She had enjoyed being the center of attention that Josh and Luke showed off for and fought over; she had relished the endless chats that went on through the night. She missed those carefree days, back when she would never have imagined having her skull opened up by a doctor as pompous as Berger.

Luke ordered pizza, grabbed three beers from the fridge, and flipped open his laptop.

“Before we make a decision, let’s check out this surgeon’s specs,” he said in his most reassuring voice.

Josh regretted that he hadn’t thought of it first. He felt overwhelmed by everything lately, and he worried that Hope would notice. He moved over to the screen and asked Luke to let him do it. Hope had to smile. She sometimes felt she knew Josh better than he knew himself. She sat down next to him and snaked an arm around his waist.

“Let’s look together. After all, it is my head.”

At around midnight, Luke took out two pillows and a comforter, which he laid over the couch. Hope and Josh fell asleep there just like the good old days, which weren’t so long ago after all.

The next day when she got home, Hope treated herself to a revitalizing shower. Luke’s couch had wrecked her back. As she rifled through her clothes, looking for something to wear, she was suddenly struck by a powerful urge to tidy up.

She began with her belongings, before moving on to Josh’s clothes. The things she deemed frankly unwearable, she stuffed into a bag. Under a pile of T-shirts, she found a letter he had kept from one of his exes, and she decided to keep it nice and safe in the trash. Her gaze fell on the cupboard, and she began reorganizing its contents. She went down to the store, returning armed with a bucket, mop, and floor wax. She pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, and got to work.

She was finishing up the floorboards when the doorbell rang. Assuming it would be Josh having forgotten his keys again, she decided to make him wait until the floor was dry, but gave up on the third buzz. She opened the door to find her father standing there, clutching a small suitcase.

Sam pushed past her, dropped his suitcase, and turned to look gravely at his daughter, before flinging his arms around her.

“Please tell me you’re here because Amelia broke up with you?”

“No. We came because your dad was sick with worry,” Amelia said, stepping through the door. “But you can relax. I’m not staying. I came with him because he was shaking so badly, he couldn’t even zip his bag. I was scared he’d have an accident on the way to the airport. When we got to the check-in desk, I was scared he’d have an accident on the plane, that he’d pull open the wrong door on his way to the lavatory or something. So I bought a ticket and came with him. Because the truth is, I’m worried sick too.”

Amelia had rushed her words, barely stopping to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed, and this was unsettling to Hope. Almost as unsettling as her father going to the toilet in the cockpit of an airplane. She liked that Amelia was concerned for him, more concerned than she herself had been.

“How did you know?”

“What does it matter?” Sam grumbled. “Were you planning on having surgery without asking my opinion? Goddamn it, Hope! I’m your father, and I’m a doctor!”

“You’re a pediatrician, Dad. And this isn’t a cold.”

Sam shot Hope a warning glance.

“That’s exactly right. I’m a pediatrician and a general practitioner! We aren’t as arrogant as surgeons, who just see their patients as bundles of flesh waiting to be cut open.”

“Sam!” Amelia gasped. “Calm down. This isn’t the time for your petty grievances.”

Amelia’s comment amused Hope. It sounded like she knew her father better than she let on.

“Are you staying in town until the operation?”

The answer was apparently so obvious, Sam didn’t feel the need to respond.

“How do you feel?” Amelia asked gently.

“It could be worse. But I’d feel better if my dad would relax. If he keeps looking at me like that, I’m definitely going to start feeling like I’m dying.”

“You’re absolutely not dying,” shouted Sam. “I’m the doctor here, okay? And if I say it’s not a big deal,