“I’m telling you…” The brunette hopped into the elevator, “…she looks like her. And I’m even thinking, she might be Cate. I’m not even joking.” She added before she pressed the floor to where her office was located.
Clad in a black satin polo paired with white jeans, Sandra commenced a new day at her office. As soon as she arrived at the hospital, she then called Jennifer, fearing that she might be busy as the day would go on and that she might forget about the stuff that she needed to speak to her about. And by stuff, she mentally meant Lou.
“No, no, I swear. I’m not being delusional.” She muttered on the phone and she could hear Jennifer cooking in the background as the sizzle of bacon filled up the airwaves, “Oh god, I could hear those strips of bacon. It reminded me that I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. But going back, I swear to all the gods, I feel like she’s Cate.”
The elevator doors slid open, revealing a group of doctors and two nurses waiting outside. As one, they greeted Sandra, their voices echoing in unison. The brunette acknowledged them with a hesitant smile, a subtle indication of the shyness she concealed within. Despite holding the position of being the medical director, she hadn’t yet fully accustomed herself to receiving such collective greetings; a sense of unease lingered, as if they were offering her undue reverence which the brunette wasn’t used to yet.
As Sandra exited the elevator, the doctors and nurses appeared to respectfully yield, creating a path for her passage. This display, while perhaps a natural consequence of her position as medical director, nevertheless evoked a sense of unease within her. It felt akin to the reverence bestowed upon a saint, an unfamiliar and even unsettling sensation. With the elevator doors closing behind her, she returned her attention to the ongoing conversation with Jennifer on the other line.
“I’m sorry. There were doctors earlier. As I was saying, she looks like Cate and I’m not being delusional. I swear. I feel like she’s Cate, but at the same time, she’s different. And her name is Lou, by the way.”
“I really think you should eat breakfast. Your delusion is really high right now.”
The brunette rolled her eyes over Jennifer’s reply. She then turned to another hallway before she successfully reached her office. With such finesse, she swung her office’s door open with her heeled-foot after swiping her ID on the door as her hands were occupied with a coffee on the left and her phone on the right.
“Goodness you’re infuriating.” She replied, casually dropping her bag on her sofa before she went on to walk towards her table, “I’m telling you, if you would see her, you would think she’s Cate.”
“Please we are doctors! You know better than this. You know there are at least 7-8 people who looks exactly like us scattered in the different sides of earth. You know that.”
Sandra pulled her seat, “Yeah, I know.” She mumbled, taking a sit, “But she just feels…” She paused, somehow her mind took her back to the very first night she saw her – all those feelings, the confusions, each of the patches of that night started to resurface, but she ended up, still, having the same thought, “…she feels different. She doesn’t feel like a stranger to me. I know she’s her.”
“You know what’s hard having a long distance relationship with you?”
The brunette rolled her eyes as she anticipated a comeback that would be so far-flung to what she just said.
“What?”
Sandra could hear Jennifer opening a door, “I cannot hit your fucking head. You’re delusional.”
“I’m not! Just do yourself some favor. Search her up on Facebook. Lou Miller.”
“You know what? You’re a grown ass woman. I cannot stop you and your delusions and everything, but I just want you to take care. You’re miles and miles away.”
“Alright, Aniston.” With that, Sandra heard the muted silence as Jennifer dropped the call.
As the silence took her in, her mind brought back Louise Miller. She woman who had been filling up her time. The intense urge to just slice and gut her open – dissect each layer of skin, like what she does on surgeries so Sandra could see what she is inside. She knew there was something buried deep in Lou and whatever it would take to know it, Sandra would do.
She was taken aback when her assistant popped inside. The knock her assistant had printed before she walked in must have been unheard as she was so deep in her thoughts.
“Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“It’s only 8 in the morning, but there is a delivery on the ground floor and the doctors told me to call you for it.”
“What delivery is that?”
“Apparently, it’s like a breakfast delivery. There’s so much food downstairs and all the staff are on it, but they want you to bless the food and want you to take on it.”
“You’re telling me there’s a feast downstairs?”
“It’s a feast, they call it.”
“Who delivers it?”
“I don’t know, Doctor. But they said a patient does that as a tribute to the hospital and everything. I’m not really sure, but I think the patient is downstairs, speaking to some doctors.”
Intrigued filled the spaces of her bones. A feast? It’s not a problem that should be dealt with; in fact, Sandra was amazed at the event. A patient delivers a feast for everyone? Wow. She instantly got up and exited, her assistant following her behind. She wasn’t excited about the food, but she was just galvanized to meet this patient. And true to her assistant’s words, the lower ground of the hospital where front desk was at, was filled with food. It was such a generous amount that Sandra was sure the patient’s wallet couldn’t be thin.
“Good morning, doc.” The staff collectively greeted her as soon as she stepped into the scene.
“There’s a feast and we want to invite you to it.” A senior orthopedic doctor spoke to her.
“Wow.” The brunette looked at the food, completely shocked by it, “Who does this?”
“Leslie.” A nurse replied, smiling at her like a giddy kid; Sandra made a mental note about the fact that the nurse looked quite a lot like Lana Del Rey.
“I think Leslie is here.” A doctor spoke, “Oh, she’s there. Leslie!”
Three meters away, Sandra spotted a woman deep in conversation with another doctor. As the doctor called out her name, Sandra felt a wave of heat rise to her face, a tide of shame flooding her system. It couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be the same woman she’d had a minor altercation with at the bar, the one she’d mistakenly thought was a bartender!
“Holy fuck.” The brunette silently muttered as Leslie started to walk towards them and what made it worse was how she noticed Leslie’s mouth hung open.
“Shit! You’re that woman!” Leslie blurted so loudly that all the hospital staff looked at both of them, “You’re the woman who mistook me as a bartender! That same woman who cried at the bar! Holy shit!” Leslie started to laugh as she looked at the brunette with pure disbelief, “You’re a doctor?”
Out of reflex and wanting to stop the shame, Sandra pulled Leslie to a corner, “Shut the f up.” She muttered, her eyes pleading at Leslie.
“Why? I’m just amazed that I saw you again!” Leslie spoke before she glanced at the doctors and nurses that were looking at them, “Hey, she cried at the bar! Two nights ago!”
The brunette wanted to slap her mouth right there and then, yet she kept her cool as she turned to the doctors and nurses with a timid smile.
“I was drunk.” She added so sweetly before she turned back to Leslie, “Shut the fuck up. I’m the medical director here. You’re shaming me.”
“Oh, shit.” Leslie’s hand found her lips as she gasped, “I’m so sorry dude. I mean, doctor. Or whatever your name is.”
Sandra heaved a sigh. Leslie looked so apologetic as she stood in front of her. Somehow, despite how they first met, the brunette could feel that Leslie, beneath her mean and hostile demeanor, was a kind and genuine person.
“Okay, just shut up. So…” Sandra looked back at the doctors behind them, “You send the feast? Why?”
“Not me.”
“Who?”
“Miller.”
“Lou? Louise Miller?”
Leslie gave her a little shrug, “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“She got into a motorcycle accident last night and this morning, she wants to give out food for everyone. She said she —”
The words seemed to blur, but the accident that slipped out of Leslie’s lips made an immense print on the brunette. Sandra had never sprinted to the front desk that fast her whole life, not until Leslie vomited the news that Lou got into an accident.
“Louise. Louise Miller.” She spoke at the nurse on the counter, “Give me the room number.”
As the brunette got the room number, she ran towards the elevator, not minding that everyone on the floor stopped and watched her. At that moment, she didn’t look like a medical director at all; she looked like a lover running towards her wounded soldier.
***
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