Diseases of the Heart

August-November 1970 ↓

“Hey mom, dad... Martin, Vincent. Uh... hope you’re fine. I’m well. New York is bigger than expected, the hospital’s gigantic. Plural, actually, it’s a complex of teaching hospitals all over the city. Uh, yeah, cutting myself short here: If you wanna give me a call, this is the number under which I will probably pick up. And if you wanna send me a letter, my address is 132 Winthrop Place, New Jersey, girls’ dormitory, room 67. Love you all, I’ll try calling regularly. Uh, yeah, anyways. Bye!“

Her voice fizzled out and the red dot stopped blinking.

Erin slammed the door shut. Her shoes came off with similar force. Her backpack discarded with a thud.

“Hey, Hunnicutt,” Terri yelled from the kitchen, “tough shift?”
“I hope every patient on this planet dies”

Terri chuckled, came forward and leaned against the doorframe.

“Wrong business, then,” which Erin commented on with a dirty look.
“The phone rang at noon, was for you. A boy from Cali”

That took Erin’s attention: “Yeah?”
“What? Do you still have an old flame waiting there for you on the back burner?”

“No,” laughed Erin, “just a nosy brother”

Three long rings before the phone got picked up.

“Martin? What’s going on?”

The boy sighed.

“Can you please call mom? She’s freaking out”
“What? Why?”
“You’re gone, dad’s working long hours, that woman’s got nothing to do all day long. She’s worried. You haven’t called in a month”

Erin scrunched up her face in disagreement, Terri gave her a look.

“Hardly three weeks, Martin. What do you mean, ‘she’s worried’?”
“Yeah, she’s worried, Erin. Pacing, mumbling, catastrophising. You know how mom gets when dad’s staying a night someplace else for work? Exactly like that” Erin sighed.

“Yeah, ok. I’ll call her later. How are you, anyways”
“Fine”
“How’s school?”
“Who are you, dad?”

Erin rolled her eyes, which made Terri laugh.

“Never mind, I was just trying to be a good sister”
“Do your ‘good sistering’ somewhere else, would you?”
“Wh–“
“Just call her this evening, tell her you’re dandy. Yeah?”

Defeated silence.

“Yeah.”
“Okay, take care”
“Bye. Say hi to Vincent for me”
“Tell him yourself”

A crack in the line, then the dial tone. Erin sighed. She’ll tell them herself this evening.

Her voice was fluttering nervously: “I am just glad to hear your voice, darling”
“Well, I wanted to call anyways... thought it’d be a good time,” lied Erin. She’d been getting better at that.
“And you’ve settled in nicely over there?”
“Absolutely! The dorm is kind of disorganised, chores are a bit of a fight around here, but the people are nice. Terri, my roommate, amazing girl. She’s in some of my classes. She actually wants to work as a midwife someday”

Peggy glanced over to BJ sitting in the living room, reading the paper.

“That’s wonderful to hear, honey...” she said, “So you are not feeling too alone?”
“No, what? mom, it’s New York, I’m not alone, I’m with eight million strangers!”

Peggy sighed.

“Well, technically you’re in Englewood...”
“I know mom, it’s a suburb. It’s very quiet”
“And the commute isn’t too busy?”

“No, one of the girls has a car and takes us with her, it’s ten minutes, tops. Well, you know... depending on the traffic...”
“And you’re taking care of yourself? The studying’s not too hard? I know, well, I know my students–“

God, she was ridiculous, working herself into a frenzy. Hadn’t Erin just assured her that she was fine? Did she always have to go looking for the fly in the ointment?

“Your students,” Erin sighed, “are learning journalism at City College and I am doing something much more hands-on. Mom, the year’s only just begun. It’s all smooth sailing right now. Very practically oriented things. Stuff dad’s told me when I was ten. It’s fine”
“Okay,” she said with a relieved breather.
“Okay,” Erin answered with an annoyed scoff, “Can I talk to Vincent for a second?”

Peggy turned immediately and called for the boy.

“It’s your sister,” she had said, ruffled his hair and made the short walk over to her husband. Smoothing out his mop, Vincent picked up the phone.

“Yeah?”
“Hey sport”
“How’s the big city?”
“Fun. How’s home?”
“Fun.”
“Yeah... listen, I’m sorry, okay?”
“You don’t have to tell me that”
“I know, but your brother isn’t telling me shit and I’m not talking to dad about this; you know how he gets”

Vincent snorted.

“Sorry that Martin was a bit harsh earlier”
“Don’t apologise. I deserved it. How’s mom doing?”
“Better... that’ll wear off, though”

It always did, Erin had no illusions.

“I know. I’ll try, ok? You just hang in there”

Long silence, until she was nearly convinced that he had given the phone to someone else. But then, hesitantly: “Wish I could’ve come with you” A sentence like a sucker punch to the kidneys. Instant KO. “Wish I could’ve taken you with me”

Vincent breathed in audibly. Erin couldn’t stand it: “Okay, I need to go”
“Bye. Say hi to Terri from me”
“Yeah, sport, will do. See ya. Greet your brother”
“Greet him yourself”

Man, thought Erin, nothing more annoying than twin brothers.

Erin fought a business major for the last place on the bus. Being a bit too annoying about world politics could have great effects, she noticed.

A glance at her watch: 06:50 AM. She’ll maybe even be punctual enough for her 07:30 anatomy class. The bus reeked of stale air and hot fumes, took a route three times longer than the car and made for a bumpier ride than any rollercoaster Erin’s ever been on. The bus shook. With her face pressed to the window, she longed for Charlotte’s car. Being a bit too annoying about world politics could also have adverse effects, she noticed.

The bus entered the Lincoln Tunnel and Erin took the chance to close her eyes, possibly catching up on the sleep that she had traded for another cramming session. It’ll be a wonder if she survives the winter here.

Wow, thought Erin, as she tried her absolute best not to mix the commons’ mashed potatoes with her salty tears. This is pathetic.

Another glance around confirmed her suspicions that no one wanted to keep her company. An amazing feeling can be experienced when one’s greatest fear and biggest wish come true simultaneously. She had tried; tried so incredibly hard to find any connections whatsoever to her fellow students. Whereby the last time had been about fifteen minutes ago, when she had asked Carrie to accompany her to lunch. The answer to which had been: “No. I am already eating with my friends”

After a long moment of strenuous silence, Erin discarded the saltily wet potatoes and left for her 02:00 PM ethics class.

Erin couldn’t reach the kettle with the landline pressed to her ear. She gave up on that anyways, when she heard her father’s voice through the static.

“Erin! Hey kiddo, how are you?”
“Great, uhm... it’s a lot of fun so far”

She sat down at the tiny kitchen table.

“Yeah? How’s uni?”
“Exciting! Right now it’s all very basic: Hippocratic oath, introduction to anatomy, a few mathematics modules and a biology course. That one’s really not my cup of tea”

Dad laughed.

“Yeah that wasn’t mine either. Oh hey, do you want to talk to your mother?”
“No, it’s fine, I was, uhm, actually just calling to see if everything’s okay at home”

She felt the disarray in the pause before her dad spoke again: “Of course it is... did the boys call you?”
“No, don’t worry, dad. I just wanted to hear your voice, it’s fine. Can’t I be a bit homesick, halfway across the country?”
“Of course, kid. You can always call”

Silence. She imagined his face softening from confusion to pity.

“Listen, thanksgiving is coming up...”
“Yeah, I’ll have to see if I can make it. We’ve got exams coming up and...”
“Don’t worry, I know. I tried telling your mother, but...”
“No worries. I’ll call you the week before, okay? I should know by then what I’m dealing with”

“Great!” BJ said with a smile, “Okay, Erin”
“Take care, dad”
“Love you”
“You too”

Her professor turned back to the giant model of a heart standing in the middle of the room. He looked like she imagined her mother looked at work. Tidy, organised, calm; stern and expecting.

“It is important to recognise the risk factors of heart diseases. Over the course of your career, you will come into contact of a lot of patients that exhibit symptoms of a cardiovascular disease. It is important to categorise their intensity of need by assessing their risk factors:” he made a pause and looked into the student body. Fourty, maybe fifty young women, listening intently, some looking fresh out of high school and some like they have to feed three kids.

“Remember, cardiovascular diseases are always contingent upon lifestyle. Look out for raised blood glucose, lipids and pressure as well as overweight patients. Smokers and drinkers especially as well as people who don’t move much.”

He looked at his notes: “Now. What is the most important thing to do after having assessed the risk factors?” Erin looked up.

“Excuse me, sir?”
“Uh, yes... Miss Hunnercutt?”
“Hunnicutt. What about genetic risk factors, congenital heart diseases? Family history, birth defects, things like that?”

Silence. He closed his mouth, opened it again; The professor looked taken aback. It took a little while for him to answer, and when he did, he started with a chuckle.

“Now, Miss Hunnicutt, how would you – as a nurse – diagnose a birth defect?”
“Well, I can ask the patient for starters”

Confusion in his eyes, then embarrassment, then hostility.

“It is highly unlikely that such question would come up with any meaningful answers. The majority of patients experience their medical condition due to lifestyle choices”
“You’re saying, though, that it is possible”
“Well...”
“You said highly unlikely, not impossible, just now, sir”

His face darkened even more. There was an edge to his voice now: “If you are so all-wise, would you care to lead this class, Miss Hunnicutt?”

Tense silence throughout the room, a standoff in the middle. Erin averted her gaze.

He smiled. “I thought so”

Literally just a question, thought Erin. Carrie behind her leaned forward in her seat, her face on eye level with Erin’s.

“Careful, Hunnicutt. You’re facing the axe” she murmured and it took all of Erin’s willpower not to answer: “I’m taking the axe and you with me”

She swallowed, then concentrated again.

The kitchen window was open, even though the weather wasn’t really allowing it anymore. Erin leaned halfway on the window sill, a cigarette between her fingers. Her dad would kill her if he saw her smoking.

“You’re thinking too loud, Hunnicutt,” came Terri’s voice from behind. Erin flicked the stub down two stories. “You’re breathing too loud, Grace”

Terri put down the paper. “That’s uncalled for. I’m not a punching bag for your temper”

Erin turned away from the window, facing back inside the yellow kitchen.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I’m always right,” Terri said with a smile.

For a long moment they didn’t say anything. Terri sitting at the small kitchen table, New York Times spread out, passed down from room 41 to room 59 to theirs, coffee stains obscuring all the interesting articles. Erin leaned against the now closed window. They glanced at each other. The kitchen light flickered. They would have to replace the bulb, or call maintenance somewhen, if it continued.

“You know, Erin, in all the short time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you happy”
Erin scrunched up her face and said with too much force: “Why thank you, it’s not exactly been my best year,” then immediately regretted it. Terri didn’t deserve this.

“See, that’s exactly what I mean. Hell, I’ll put up with your short fuse, I get it, ok? Everything’s a bit much, everyone’s competing with each other. I know you don’t mean half the stuff you say and yet you say it. No excuses”
“I’m sorry”
“I know. You’re not a bad person. But I don’t think the stress is doing you any good either”
“Is it doing good to any of us?”
“I just... Every time I see you, I’ve got the feeling you’re hiding something”

That was a surprise.

“Hiding?”
“Like you’re running away from something. Do you want to know what the two girls in 41 call an ‘Irish goodbye’ now?” Erin looked away, ashamed.
“They call it ‘pulling a Hunnicutt’.”

Silence. Strong silence. The birds outside made a ruckus. It’ll be winter soon, they’ll move south, huge swarms of them on a journey to better lands. Erin looked back at Terri.

“I wish I could help you, Erin. I ask for all the best to happen to you. That you’ll find your peace. That your heart finds rest. But I don’t think I can stay that long” Terri looked at her, her mouth pressed into a thin line. She took the newspaper and put her cup in the sink.

“Thank you, Terri,” said Erin, as Terri looked back into the kitchen from the doorway.

“If I don’t see you, I want you to know that you’re an amazing person, that I am wishing you all the best” Terri suddenly turned even more serious.
“Tell me yourself when the time is right”

The commons, Erin learned, was a terrible place to be. Waiting in line for sloppy lunch, two men in front of her, dressed in white coats, started talking.

“Have you heard the news about Dorothy Gilburg?”
“Uh... emergency nurse, right?”
“Yeah”
“No,” the other man said, “what’s with her?”

His friend leaned in conspiratorially: “You know how a few years back, she started doing all these extra seminars so she could ‘become a better nurse’?”
“Sure”
“Well, not only is she now asking for a pay raise, she’s also going for a lateral entry into surgery”
“You’re kidding?”

The man leaned back again: “Nope. Fucking weirdo”
“I mean, I don’t know... if that’s something a woman should do”

Don’t run your mouth, said someone inside Erin.

“Seems... unbecoming, you know?”
“Totally. I don’t know if I would want to work with... you know. And she’s a good nurse, I don’t know why she can’t stay one”

Erin leaned in: “You two care to shut the fuck up?” She barked. They turned.
“Hey... what’s up, doll?”
“Not your doll and not your fucking business what that Dorothy does in her life. Seems like she’ll be more accomplished than you’ll ever be” They looked at each other.
“Look at you, spitting the big words. Let me guess, first year nursing student, right? Well... we’ll teach you the pecking order in no time,” he threatened, putting a hand to her shoulder.

Erin reacted before she could think twice, grabbing his wrist and shoving him back, letting him and his tray clatter to the floor.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” spat Erin. Deep breaths.
“Hey!” The voice of a docent.
“She hit him,” his friend accused.
“I barely brushed him,” Erin defended.

As a matter of fact, two docents came running, one holding Erin back unnecessarily and one helping the man get up. She froze as she turned to the professor’s face. Fuck; her anatomy lecturer. His face was ice-cold.

“You seem to think you run this place, young Hunnicutt” He took a step forward. Erin didn’t waver, even if everything in her screamed at her to do so.
“You’re on a dangerous power trip, Erin. Keep up with that delusion of authority and you’re on the street faster than you can fail my class. Let it be said, I will take your misbehaviour, your attitude to the board and reprimand you. Good luck, Erin”

Then he turned to the man still crouched near the floor. His friend turned to her and grinned. Erin emptied her face and left for the bus. Not that lunch would have been worthwhile anyways.

Columbia: School of Nursing
Exmatriculation form

Student’s full legal name: Erin Margaret Hunnicutt
Student ID: HT-15498528
Faculty: Undergraduate at nursing faculty

Student is forced to exmatriculate until:

1. Summer 19__

2. Winter 19__

3. Spring 19__

4. 11/15/1970

Reasoning for the exmatriculation: Student has proven an unfit character for the profession and an intolerable attitude within the training relationship.

Signed by faculty management.
Signed by dean of faculty.

Place: New York City, NY
Date: 10/15/1970

↑ November-February 1970/1971 ↓

A pause, then multiple voices; the whole family.

“Erin, how are you?”
“Happy thanksgiving, kid,” said her father, which nearly made the tears fall.
“I’m good, I’m doing really good, how are you all holding up?”
“We’re great”

A younger voice: “Mom’s burned the beans – again,”
“Martin!”

For a moment, everyone exclaimed something all at once – a strong commotion. Erin could imagine it so vividly: All four of them jammed together near the telephone in the kitchen. Vincent holding the receiver, everyone looking a bit scandalized at Martin. The warmth of the home, the soft carpet, red walls, mom’s beans. What Erin would do to taste mom’s slightly burned beans right now. She looked up and blinked away any emotion.

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Martin”
“Yeah, apologize,” said Vincent.
“It’s fine, honey,” amended mom and turned to Erin: “we’re missing you a whole lot, Erin. Are you celebrating with your roommates?”

Erin took a bit to answer.

“Yeah, we are celebrating. A very small get-together. Uhm, we – me and Terri – we met some nice girls from room 41. Charlotte and Martha, they’re nice. Uhm, they’re doing the dinner prep right now”
“Oh Erin, don’t let us hold you up”
“No, no, never. I called you, you don’t hold me up. Or us up...”

Her father changed the subject: “We’ve all got our fingers crossed for your exams!” Someone laughed.
“Yeah, don’t flunk ‘em, or dad can’t brag about his fourth generation doctor kid,” yelled Vincent into the receiver. Little brothers had the incredible ability to go right for the kill.

“Pah, I’d never,” said Erin, faux confident, “Dad’ll get his little nurse”
“Erin, don’t stress yourself. We’re proud of you whatever you do. I know I am always” God. A hug from her dad, that’d be better than a Christmas present in November.

“Yeah, I know.” Silence. From California, soft bickering filtered through to New York. Erin felt strangely at home again.

“I love you,” she said, “I need to get back to dinner prep”
“You do that, kid”
“Love you”
“Bye Erin!”

The line went dead. Erin took a couple deep breaths, then looked around.

This place was basically empty on thanksgiving. She ordered gin.

The man behind the desk was nearly completely bald. She sat across from him, facing the huge mural that peeked out behind him: An escutcheon with a snake and a book and the words “Downstate Health Sciences University”. She took another look at the man. He looked a bit like her grandfather, if her grandfather would radiate the warmth of a block of marble.

“Erin... Hunnicutt” She looked at him expectantly, “Why New York?”
“I’m not so fond of the California weather”
“Is that so?”
“And a young woman should broaden her horizon. What may be standard in California may not be in New York”
“Very worldly,” he said with a smile and turned back to her dossier.

“I see here you started a nursing degree”
“Yes”
“And you aborted this undertaking, because...”
Erin breathed in to win some time: “Because I realized that I am not made for the academic field. I am more of a practical person. I think that with an apprenticeship I can work in a... medical niche more suited for my needs”

He nodded.

“Have you ever assisted in OR”
“I didn’t study that long. Though, I did some preliminary shifts following more experienced nurses”
“I see...”
“But I do see myself fit for the tasks of a surgical assistant” He raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
“My father is a surgeon”
“Ah,” he didn’t seem convinced. Come on, thought Erin, what else do you need to hear?

“You look like you’re debating with yourself a whole lot,” she tried, “The country always needs medical staff”
“Are you patriotic?”
“Sorry?”
“Are you patriotic? ‘The country always needs medical staff’ Just had me wondering”

How come, Erin, that you are so incredibly good at flunking every human interaction? She scoffed.

“My father was also a veteran”
“I see”

Silence, rustling noises from the dean’s fumbling with Erin’s CV. A sharp thought drilled itself into her mind: Fuck the United States of America. She couldn’t help smiling.

There goes the Allis clamp.

OR was fun. The voices of the surgeons and assisting nurses blurring into the background, as Erin followed her task in being given the used tools and cleaning them.

It was demanding. It was important. It was a bit underwhelming. She willed her mind back to the stainless steel. She would keep this job. She would do everything within her ability that these patients walk out of here alive. She would do everything within her ability that she would walk out of here alive.

It was fascinating. It was grounding. The rhythmical breathing of the patients. The machinery. Latches, levers, pistons, valves, buttons and an anesthetist playing the body like an organ.

And the Penfield-4. What’s happening right there? Is the surgeon poking at material? Shoving it around to get better access to other parts of the body?

Erin saw exactly two backs and nothing of the patient. She stood next to the scrub nurse, who sometimes named the instruments for her when she gave them to the doctor. Erin was dying for a look at the gore. She sighed, focusing on the task at hand, and wiped the blood off the Penfield-4.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Erin leaned on the wall. The apartment was new. They gave her a monthly salary, now that she was actually kind of working. It was enough to afford this nook of a home. Fortunately, someone picked up before she could think too much about it.

“Merry Christmas to you all!” Erin cheered.
“Erin! Lovely to hear you,” said her mother and presumably turned to the room. All Erin heard was a muffled: “Hey it’s Erin!” and a commotion. She smiled.

“Did you get our present, Erin?”
“Yeah, mom. It’s amazing, really, I needed a new notebook at any rate. And the socks are really good too, you can never have enough socks” The parcel had arrived a month earlier in fact and, being disciplined, Erin had kept the surprise for today.

“Yeah well,” her mother smiled, “the socks were your father’s idea, always the pragmatist. He wanted to go for underwear but I could persuade him to send socks. And I did the stationery”
“I love it! Did you get my parcel?”
“Oh yes! Those are some beautiful pictures you took – New York looks beautiful. Hey, Vincent wants to talk to you for a second”

Her brother’s voice filtered through: “You know, I thought you kinda kicked it over there” Another commotion: “Vincent!” yelled her father, then resumed:. “We’re happy to hear from you, honey” That was strange... her father usually didn’t sound so sad.

“How’s it going for you guys?”
“Ah, everything’s fine. I mean we’re all here and healthy. And the weather’s even blessing us with a beautiful 48 degrees and–”
“Completely irrelevant, dad!” said Martin suddenly, “Erin – a miracle happened! Mum did not burn the beans!”

Erin snorted. “Martin!” Chaos on the other end again.
“Alright, Martin, that’s enough!” said her mother, “you go sit back down and eat my beautifully cooked greens”

“So you are all good?”
“We’re all fine. We miss you, though”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Vincent, going for the receiver again, “I’m great! Erin, I didn’t fail my Spanish exam!”
“Hey!” laughed Erin, “That’s amazing! Congrats, buddy”
“And that concludes the news from Vincent, I will resume eating my perfectly cooked green beans now”
“Alright, Mr Apple-Polisher,” said dad with a laugh, “How are you holding up, kid?”

Mindlessly, Erin fidgeted with the chipped wall paint. This place desperately needed a renovation.

“I’m better, really. I moved, actually. I’ll send you my new address soon”
“Moved? Why?”
“Oh, they just had a reorganization around campus. Decided I needed to move dorms, nothing but a little mix up, don’t worry about it” A long pause.

“Sorry, honey. Seems like we’re a bit over anxious about you moving out,” mom said. Well, you’re a bit generally anxious, Erin didn’t say.
“Have you met Doctor Trevino yet?”
“Who?”
“Doctor Trevino – you know, the one I told you about? ENT surgeon with whom I studied”

Fuck, Erin had completely forgotten about that.

“Uh no, not yet,” she said, “I’ll tell you when I see him. But the campus is big and I haven’t been with the ENT department yet and–“
“Don’t worry, honey. Your father likes to forget that the world doesn’t revolve around his experiences and college memories”
“Well, that’s not true,” stated her father, but Erin interfered: “It kind of is”

If it was one thing her father talked about, it was his college days.

“Well, doesn’t matter anyways. Merry Christmas, Erin, yeah? Take care and don’t get sick”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, mom. I love you. Bye”
“Bye Erin!”

God. As long as dad didn’t speak to that Doctor Trevino, she should be fine. Do you realize, said the angel on her shoulder, that you are spinning the same web of lies that you love to criticize about your own family?

It’ll be fine, she told herself. I’ll get out the feather duster tomorrow, try to get all the cobwebs and this place’ll look as good as new.

By February, Erin had graduated from “instrument cleaner” to “retractor holder”. To work as a scrub nurse, she had been told, one needed to memorize the surgical techniques to present the correct instruments in the correct position and the correct order. And the best way to learn about surgical techniques was, obviously, to observe them while holding the retractors.

Undisputed pro of this development was a direct view of the surgical site, the immediate vicinity allowing for a good look at the technique. Erin was nobody’s fool and remembered the surgical sequences quickly.

Every second of her spare time went into recalling a surgery and all the steps involved. Thoracotomy: Patient lying on their side, incision (scalpel #10) below the fifth rib, widen incision (rib spreaders), gain access to the lung’s root. Or: Nerve biopsy: Local anesthetic, incision (scalpel #15) of two inches behind the ankle, retract skin (rake), separate the nerve (probe), cut nerve, move biopsy to laboratory, suture, bandage, move out.

Undisputed cons of her new position were the definite demotion. Yes, being given the used instruments only to clean them and place them back on the tray felt a great deal more valuable to the surgical process than just holding a retractor in place.

Patience, Erin reminded herself, it’s all part of the learning experience. Besides, you still have to sterilize the OR. It had become routine by now: Clean, sterilize, meet, discuss, prepare, scrub others in, scrub yourself in, assist, present, bandage, relocate, clean, sterilize, rinse, repeat.

And what do you know? Sometimes, the surgeon himself surprised Erin with the complete wreckage of the surgical technique:

“I’m getting a change in pulse. Faster and fluttering” The anesthetist looked up to the leading surgeon, eyes set, “Did you nick something?”

Anderson retracted his bloodied hands from the chest cavity, looking up as well. First to Erin opposite of him, still holding the retractors, then to the man next to her – the assisting surgeon whose name she had forgotten.

“I will have you know, Robert, that I do not nick things,” Anderson crowed, “Arteries, muscles, connective–”
“Cardiac arrest – no pulse”

And instead of following the implied command, Anderson sighed. Relaxation creeping into his shoulders.

“Well... such a shame to let another beautiful soul go. Let’s call it quits, then.”

New York City had taught Erin a lot up until this point: People are assholes, don’t trust the management and if there was something that she was incredibly good at, it was getting her wires crossed and short-circuiting. Without a second thought, Erin, whose hand lay nearest to the patient’s heart, made a plunge for the organ and started massaging it.

One knee on the operating table, the retractors forgotten, one hand above the patient’s sternum, she worked with utmost concentration. No sounds reached her. Her fingers. The patient’s blood. Their veins. Their arteries. Their organ. Rhythmic compressions, like her father had once briefly explained to her. Soon, a second hand – up to her forearms in guts, the warm wetness of the patient; and after an eternity of Erin Hunnicutt perched on the leather table on top of a still breathing human being, fingertips working the intricacies of life, she felt it: A slight twitch.

Then another. And another.

“Getting a pulse. Weak”

Her hands mere centimeters away from the organ, cradling it still, ready to intervene again.

“Getting stronger. 20 bpm. 50/10 mmHg. 40 bpm.“

And another. And another. Stronger, beating on its own. Erin locked eyes with the anesthetist, who announced: “75 bpm. 120/80 mmHg“

Erin dismounted the patient, careful not to irritate the open wound. OR was silent. It hadn’t been this silent in hours. All eyes were on her – especially Anderson’s, who looked about to burst. Erin placed the steel back into her hands and held it out for Anderson: „Retractor?“

A bruising grip shoved her out of the OR. Erin nearly fell during the few steps that she was dragged behind the senior nurse. Her fingertips were still warm. She had one last look at the near artistic scene: The bright overhead lighting staging a terrible climax. The patient and the blood framed by astonished blue scrubs; one doctor in the periphery, ready to fight.

The second the door to the OR swung shut, the grip disappeared and Erin was left alone with a stern: “Wait here,” as if she wasn’t too dazed to move.

Erin stood in a slouch like waxwork in the beige and dimly lit hallway. Then, her legs gave out. She stumbled backwards, crashing into the bench next to the laundry basket. Erin shook. Deep breaths rattled her body, there was blood everywhere: Her gloves, her scrubs, her mask, her shoes, it had all gotten messy in her actions.

She ripped the gloves off, then her mask and kneaded her fingers. Holy fuck. She wouldn’t forget this feeling in a million years. A heart that started beating again after she had touched it. Holding the wet meat in her palm, the size of a fist, a perfect fit.

Her fingers trembled, but she smiled. Christ almighty. Her smile broke into a chuckle, then a laugh. I’ll get thrown for this. I’ll never survive this. Then a cry. Then a sob. Then a sigh. Erin still shook, the adrenaline colliding with the euphoria, the disappointment, and lastly, the fear.

When the swing door opened again, Erin tried her best to scramble to her feet, but the doctor that came out motioned her to take a seat. It was the assistant surgeon. He dropped himself next to her, ripping off his gloves, and threw them next to Erin’s where they lay discarded on the floor. Blue eyes watched her through long lashes that looked sadly tired.

With a sigh, he started undressing: First his mask, then the surgical cap, whereby he took Erin’s as well, then his apron. She noticed that his hair was largely hoary and long enough that he had tied it back into a tight topknot. Erin eyed him skeptically.

“What are you doing?”
“We don’t need that anymore”
“You need to–” Erin started, but rerouted it into: “Don’t you need to keep assisting?”
“Not anymore. Don’t worry kid”

He was too quiet, Erin decided. She expected a cussing out, a beating, immediate suspension, but not someone who helped her out of her apron. The silence was deafening, only the low humming of the hallway lights accompanying them.

“You’ve got guts,” he finally said.
“You say that like it’s a positive”
“Tell you what, kid. If you hadn’t interfered, I would have. If I wouldn’t, the anesthetist would have jumped the fence and if nobody would have done it, the scrub nurse would have. Takes guts to be the first one, though”

He stretched out a hand.

“I’m Hawkeye. I do thoracic surgery”

Erin took it hesitantly.

“Erin. I do nothing much around here”
“You’re selling yourself quite short,” chaffed Hawkeye, to which Erin responded quick and dry: “That’s hardly feasible; I’m not even five feet and a half”

Turns out, the tiled hallway reverberated their giggles quite well. Must be a great sight, Erin guessed at that moment, two OR workers, covered in blood, hunched over on the flimsy bench outside OR, giggling to themselves – and every time either of them found a semblance of tranquility, the other one would set them off again.

Good god, Erin thought, so this is how I’ll go? My last manic thoughts before inevitable suspension? How good it feels to go down with a friend.

After they finally sobered, Erin stood up. Hawkeye’s smile fell: “Where are you going?”
She knit her brows: “What do you mean? I’ll visit the hospital administration”
He sounded panicked suddenly: “Will you come back?”
“I forgot my watch in OR”
Confusion: “And afterwards?” Erin chuckled.
“You’re a strange guy, Hawkeye. Afterwards? Afterwards you can tell that Anderson that I hate him and think he should get fired with me”

Realization dawned on Hawkeye, which made him grin: “Better yet, Erin: Afterwards, you tell him yourself. As my apprentice”

She laughed a big giggly laugh. “That’s nuts”
“More nuts than jumping onto an operating table to perform open chest CPR?”

She didn’t answer for a while, and when she did, it was hesitantly: “You really mean that? You’d take me on?”
“Totally,” his eyes shone in truth. It was like a switch had flipped inside her: “I want to be a nurse. Full blown. I want to know the entirety of OR inside out”
“Of course”
“I want options. I want to be fully trained. I want you to pull me across the finish line”
“Erin, to be quite honest, I don’t doubt that you would pull yourself across the finish line”

Silence. He looked up at her, elbows on his knees, and stretched out his hand: “Come on,” he said when she took it, “we’ve got a date with the hospital administration”

↑ February-April 1971 ↓

Erin grasped the cold plastic receiver with her rosy fingers and pressed it even tighter to her frosty ear: “Dad, you’ll never guess what happened this week!” She was still dressed in her parka, too excited for the phone-date with her dad that she hadn’t doffed the garment when she came in from the cold.

Her father sounded as excited as she was: “Whatever did, it must make you quite happy”
“Dad, things are looking up. Like, up up. Like, ‘I might actually get a degree in this thing’ up”
He hesitated: “I-I never doubted you, Erin”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t. Dad!”

She took a moment to revel in the information she was about to disclose: “A surgeon took me on as his... mentee. He works at the hospital, he saw... my work, he decided he is going to coach me to my graduation”

A pause, her father seemed confused: “Do you mean like an advisor?”
“Exactly,” Erin let herself fall into the chair under the telephone.
“That’s amazing, Erin,” her father said, content coating his voice.
“He’s genuinely great, dad. He does thoracic surgery, actually. And from what I’ve heard about him, he seems to be a notoriously empathetic and competent man. I’m really excited”
“That’s wonderful news, Erin”
“I’ve been in a few discussions with him about what I want to do and focus on and how I’m going to get there, typical advisor stuff, you know? It’s all going great, but man, let me tell you: He’s kind of a rum dog!”

BJ laughed.

“Yeah? I can’t imagine he is any stranger than my professors in college”
“No... whatever you’re thinking of, this guy’s different. He’s honestly strange, but I think I like him a lot. When he isn’t in surgery, he wears clothes he’s sewn or knit himself. Colorful stuff, dad: He’s got a fuzzy green pullover with a lobster on the front. Remember the surgical cap you gifted me for getting accepted into uni?”
“That ugly pink thing I got from the flea market?”
“He’s commented on it, told me it’s the most stylish garment he’s seen in OR in years and told me he thought of making one just like that himself”
“And you told him to think twice and use a fabric that doesn’t include a dragonfruit and ocean print”

Erin laughed: “I told him I would help him select the fabric”

“You’re a devil, Erin”
“I try to help where I can! Other things the man does that drive me nuts: He’s very particular about his sutures. He swears by monocryl, I almost expect him to glue the empty cartridges into his diary. Sometimes he falls into a soliloquy about why having to work with anything smaller than 5-0 sutures is inhumane to the human eye.“
“He sounds like a great fit for you”
“Thank you, dad”

Erin went on: “He’s got hair down to his shoulders but only uses hair ties in surgery. Dad, if I have to keep watching this man try to keep his hair out of his face while doing desk work, I might have to do something that will put me in national newspapers”
“Don’t worry, Erin, that’ll come soon enough”
“Can we focus and go back to discussing this man’s absolute refusal of primal help?”
“Kid, what am I supposed to tell you? Some of us out there are odd characters. I knew a guy once who wore his extra pair of scrubs to bed, so that if he was called into surgery that night, he was dressed already.”
“This is just reinforcing my belief that all surgeons are a bit off their heads”
“Reminds me of this conference our department had to attend, though”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. ‘Minimizing the risk of infectious diseases and multidrug resistant organisms’ at UCSF”

Erin’s ears perked up: “Hey, that sounds great!”

“It was... very informative, but mostly incredibly scary, you know? I’d like to keep my hands where the playing field doesn’t change its facilities every decade. Anyways, I met a man there who would only speak in rhymes – saying it was ‘a beautiful day – to speak in a verse – now, if he would he stray – he’d leave in a hearse’. Your colorful, hair tie defying suture-nerd is fine, Erin”

She shook her read: “He’s one of a kind”
“But you like him,” her father guessed.
“I think he’s also a good doctor. Anyways, a conference at UCSF? What’s the rest of you doing?”

BJ laughed.

“Your mother is grading papers at the dining table right now”
“I am not,” came the muffled and hopeless voice of her mother through the speaker, “I am succumbing to the combined stupidity of my students”
“She is pursuing her favorite activity: Sussing out spelling mistakes in college essays”

“By god, BJ, there are some who have had their brains replaced by pudding. I would like to grab them by the shoulders and give them a good shake. Yeah, I’d like to do that”

Her father let out a belly laugh: “Peg, come on!” Erin giggled. She relaxed; They sounded fine, at ease.

“So you are all well over there?”
“We’re fine, kiddo, stop worrying about us”
“Dad–”
“I mean it, Erin. We’re fine. We’re doing good. I know that we can be...” his voice trailed off like as if his head was turned to his wife rather than the receiver, “that we can be a bit anxious,” he said at full volume again, “A bit paranoid. A bit crazy when one of us leaves the county boundaries. I know that – you know that – your brothers know that”

There was a small pause, then some rustling.

“Rest assured, we have calmed down. Slowly but surely.”
“Somewhat,” said Peg’s voice, suddenly next to her father’s, “but that shouldn’t be any of your concern, Erin. We’re adults”
“I’m also an adult,” she was quick to defend herself.
“You’re not even old enough to drink”

Erin rolled her eyes. There was no winning against her parents when they ganged up.

“Okay, fine. I’ll stop worrying... For now”
“Thank you,” said her father.
“We love you,” added her mother.
“I love you too”

Her father grinned: “Say ‘hi’ to your advisor from us”
She laughed. “Okay, sure. Bye!”

Erin followed Hawkeye off the bus, jumping into the cold and rainy April night. “Don’t pretend like I have zero friends,” she yelled as she caught up with him.
“I don’t need to pretend for that”

Hawkeye grinned down to her, his figure illuminated by the night life’s neon signs. Talking about Erin’s social circle had been a mistake. Okay, maybe she lived in a sordid cubbyhole whereto she could never imagine inviting someone. So what if she spent her entire time either in OR, at the library or strolling the streets. She met plenty of people in the hospital, it was not like she was lonely.

“You cannot go through life alone, Erin. Your – what? Your last social contact was a weird dormitory situation where you shoved away your only ally”

They stopped to cross another street.

“That wouldn’t have worked out anyways,” she mumbled. Hawkeye fixed her a look that promised an argument.
“It’s a monthly poker night event with some of my most trusted colleagues. You’ll lose a bunch of money, you’ll enjoy yourself and in four weeks time, I’ll drag you there again,” the traffic light turned green, “Come on”

He dashed ahead, the tip of his red woolen hat swaying in the chilly breeze. Erin should have worn a thicker jacket.

Hawkeye slowed, somewhen, in a smaller back alley, framed by red bricks, trash cans and yellowed posters advertising some underground musician. They turned right and descended four small slippery stairs that led them to a teal colored door. The dim light above them flickered. A big, fat droplet made its way to the bottom of the lamp and fell onto Erin’s boot.

Straight out of a horror movie, she thought as Hawkeye rapped his knuckles on the door. It didn’t take long for the wood to open a crack, a man’s face partially illuminated.

“Password,” he drawled.
Hawkeye rolled his eyes: “It’s us, Sidney”
“Well, if it’s only you,” Sidney laughed and opened the door. He was small and lean, his warm eyes glowing as he hugged Hawkeye. Sidney screwed up his face as they separated: “You’re all wet”
He laughed: “Just for you as a greeting,” Hawkeye called over his shoulder, putting his coat on the rack.

“I’m so sorry,” Sidney suddenly turned, “where are my manners? Hawkeye said he would be bringing a guest – you must be his apprentice,” he smiled at Erin and shook her hand.
“Sidney, I want you to meet the soon-to-be fourth doctor Erin Hunnicutt” Sidney’s eyes widened.

Erin sighed: “Scrub nurse, actually,” but Hawkeye was already cutting in: “I’ll convince her eventually”
“Hunnicutt, huh?” Sidney enunciated peculiarly slowly.
“Yes, sir”
“Sir?! I’m not at work, please, call me Sidney,” the man turned to Hawkeye with a stern face: “We’re discussing this later”

Turning away from the slightly awkward introduction, Erin had a chance to inspect the place. Rough red carpet was laid out in the front, black and white checkered tiles near a kitchen unit in the back. It looked like a renovated basement party room. The walls were green like the door. It smelled of cold cigarettes and liquor and under a soft yellow light, two people talked animatedly at a round wooden table.

“Now, Erin” said Sidney in that warm drawl again, “welcome to our monthly poker nights, do sit down. Do you want to drink something?”

Erin went over to the table and sat down between the two people.

“I’ll drink whatever’s drinkable, Sidney”
“Wise choice,” said her seatmate to the left, “I’m Carl” Erin took his bony hand. The man wore a bright cerulean turtleneck and an afro that bobbed up and down as he nodded along to her introduction.

“Sorry, I’m not shaking your hand,” the woman to Erin’s right said, both her hands occupied with draping all sorts of snacks into crystal glass bowls. “I’m Jean” she said, piercing green eyes poking out behind big rounded glasses, blonde strands framing her face. Hawkeye sat down across from Erin.

“Have you ever played poker?” He asked.
“Where was I supposed to learn poker?” Erin fired back.
“Here,” laughed Carl, “there’s no better place to learn poker than here”
“We’ll do a round for you to settle in and learn the rules first. Jesus, Carl, we can’t fleece a medical student,” argued Jean.
Erin repeated herself: “It’s just an apprenticeship”
Jean looked up, placing the snack bowls on the table. “Hawkeye said you’re going to be a doctor”
“Liar,” Carl stated, going for the gummi bears.
Hawkeye shrugged: “Wishful thinking. Doctor family,” but Jean socked him in the shoulder.
“Don’t mind him, kid. He likes to maunder the strangest things”

Sidney came back with the drinks. He handed a soda to Hawkeye, a seltzer to himself, a snifter to Jean and something smelling of syrup to Carl. To Erin, he handed a beer.

“I’m only nineteen!” She exclaimed.
“You’ll survive it,” Sidney said, raising his glass, “Bottoms up!”

“Good lord,” Erin whispered with wide eyes as Jean pulled her winnings towards her, “I’ll be broke by this evening”
“If you bring five dollars to the pot, expect to lose five dollars to the Queen of Poker”
“I hope you understand now,” sighed Carl, eyeing his money in Jean’s hands, “why we hold these rounds at the beginning of the month,” Erin snorted. “How much money do you have on you right now, anyways?”
“Well, I’m definitely not going to tell you now!”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Erin,” said Sidney, “I’ve been losing to Jean for over a decade now”
“In every which way possible, I might add”

“Please,” lamented Hawkeye, “no more stories about how Sidney was after your wife, it gives me the creeps”
Erin was struck with wonder: “Your wife?” she asked.
“My wife...” Jean dreamt, “Hey, does anybody want to see a picture of my wife?”

The table groaned.

“For reference,” Hawkeye said, “we’ll see her wife tomorrow”
“And we saw her wife yesterday,” Sidney added, his face supported by his hand.
“And we’ve seen the picture she’ll conjure in a moment a thousand times,” said Carl.
“But Erin hasn’t,” appalled Jean and placed a reddish photograph under Erin’s nose.

The photograph was worn and soft around the edges. It showed two women renovating a room, wearing hats made of newspaper and presenting two toothy smiles to the camera.

“Agnes. Her name is Agnes”
Erin returned the photograph: “She’s beautiful! Do greet your wife from me,” whereby the phrase ‘her wife’ kept bouncing around Erin’s skull.

“Will do! You see, the photo was taken when we were renovating Carl’s apartment. It turns out doctor Trevino here has a dog shit taste in wall paint!”

Erin spun around to the mentioned doctor, who looked ready to argue, but was preempted by her: “Whoa! Doctor Trevino?!”
“That’s my name,” he smiled.
Erin’s blood ran cold. Shit. Holy shit, of course. She swallowed.

“Stanford graduate?” she asked, hoping for a simple misunderstanding.
He raised his eyebrows. “How do you know?” With a pained expression, Erin dug deeper: “ENT surgeon at Columbia University?” His shocked expression confirmed it.
“Well... while we’re on it: Kindest regards from my father, B.J. Hunnicutt”
“Hunnicutt? Are you kidding me? That idiot, I’ve been meaning to call him but every time I try, the line’s jammed” Erin winced.
“Please,” Erin winced, “you cannot tell him anything about me”
“Who? Your father?”
She looked to the table: “My father may or may not still believe that I am enrolled at Columbia University”

Four dazed pairs of eyes landed on her.

“Listen, everybody, it’s been a weird past five months, okay?”
“Erin!” yelled Hawkeye.
“Please, let me finish... He thinks I’m still studying at Columbia. I am not, in fact, studying there. I-I got thrown out in mid-November” Sidney let out a distraught moan.
“I don’t have the heart to tell him, okay? So, if he asks you… if you get to call him, I’d be most grateful if you don’t mention... that to him”

Mixed reactions faced her: Jean was still eyeing her, Carl was trying to hide a laugh, Sidney’s face lay in his arms on the table surface and Hawkeye pinched his nose bridge between his thumb and forefinger. He was also the first to audibly react – his anger crossing the table: “You can’t lie to your parents!” She leaned back, looked away and crossed her arms.

“Wait, hold on,” Carl was laughing. “Are you kidding me? What – Why did they throw you?”

She bowed her head and shrugged sheepishly, yet without remorse: “Talked back to some idiot professor that didn’t believe in congenital heart diseases and I may or may not have kind of exerted physical force on a man who told me he would ‘teach me the pecking order in no time’,” adding air quotes for emphasis.

“Ew!” cried Jean.
“Exactly!”
“Erin,” Hawkeye said again, his tone somewhere between scolding and exasperated. Sidney’s hand on his shoulder was brushed off in Hawkeye’s huge gestures.
“I know it’s not fair, however–”
“Nothing ‘however’. You’re telling your father – both your parents? – about your exmatriculation. You can’t lie to them”
“Damn well I can. You listen to me–”

“Erin.” Sidney appeased, before the fur flew. “Wouldn’t you like to know if something this big happened at home?”

“Sidney, I would agree with you were it any other topic, but I can’t with this. My parents are currently kind of dying with worry over in sunny California. And I understand that. It’s always been this way: When I was away on sleepovers or class trips as a child, I pretended I was feeling homesick, so I could call my parents in the evening. I wasn’t feeling homesick, but I knew that they were climbing the walls back home. Come on! I just moved across the country for a university education, I’m living on my own for the first time. Of course my parents support me, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t scared shitless. When my mother tells me that she is obsessively checking the news for anything that’s going on in the city, I believe her, because, quite frankly, I think that’s a pretty reasonable response, considering that the last time someone in our family moved out, her husband went to war. I can’t tell them that I’ve got thrown out of uni! What good would that do to my parents?”

She turned to Hawkeye.

“It’s not like I want to lie to them. I love them to bits. I love them. But I also can’t pretend like I’m helping their worry when I tell them that I flunked my education, because I’ve got a mouth the size of the Pacific.”

She took a moment.

“It’s maybe possible that I’ll tell them next year, when I actually have half my degree done, sure, I can do that then. But not now.”

Sidney sighed. He looked at Hawkeye, who’s eyes had turned soft partway through Erin’s monologue. Jean had grasped her hand, while Carl nudged her ankle with his foot. Erin closed her eyes.

“I wish I could tell them the truth. I really do.”

Lengthy silence stinted the room. “Well...” Sidney smiled – sad and defeated, empathetic, “you know where to find us if things take a wrong turn”
“I appreciate it,” sincerity bleeding all over the table.
Carl leaned forward. “Now, do you want to lose a bunch of money?” he asked, glee in his voice. Erin turned to him.
“Abso-fucking-lutely”

Just like the mood, the weather had turned to a biting chill by the time Erin and Hawkeye had said their goodbyes and left for the bus. Damn the New York spring. There hadn’t been any outright hostilities between them at the poker table, but all communications were left to a minimum. Now, sitting shoulder to shoulder under the bus stop, Erin couldn’t help but wonder if the night’s events would seriously alter their relationship.

Was she supposed to say something? Erin eyed him nervously. Or was shutting up the better option? Was he going to say something or wait for her to make the first move? She sighed. This was all pointless.

New York was pretty in the dark, she thought. Neon lights reflecting off the pitch black street. Her eyes unfocused, relaxed. She leaned back.

“I’m sorry I’m making you so angry,” she finally admitted. With a jolt, he turned to her.
“What?! Erin, no. No, please don’t apologize!” He sighed, “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I really am. I didn’t... handle that in a very adult manner”
She shrugged: “We’re all allowed our lapses”

Then, after a brief pause, she added: “So, everything’s okay... between us?”
“Of course, kid. Were you worried that we weren’t?”

She didn’t answer.

“Hey, listen. I’m supposed to be the more mature party here. I can deal with my own crises and shortcomings. I’ll never blame you for that. Whatever fight we’re having, I promise you, I’ll do my best to make it okay at the end”
“Thanks,” she mumbled and let the silence return.

Unexpectedly, Hawk continued: “I haven’t been honest with you, either. You see, I knew your father” She turned her head, fight and fear and freeze forgotten: “What?!”
“Uh-huh. From Korea. Does he talk about that time?” Erin scoffed.
“Plenty with mom, very little with us kids”

Hawk nodded.

“I mean,” Erin amended, “he used to tell us more, but those stories were always either drawn out into absurdity or so sluiced down that they didn’t resemble a war zone anymore”

She looked up to him, sad eyes not quite focusing on her. “He was my best friend, ever. BJ pulled me through the lowest points in my life. And I pulled him through his.”

Oh. Erin hadn’t known that. Trying for a lighthearted remark, she quipped: “Look who’s talking. You can omit telling me you knew my father but I have to be honest to him,” but Hawkeye didn’t joke with her.
“Erin,” his voice was very stern.

Her voice returned to a somber tone: “I’m sorry. He never... he never mentioned a Hawkeye Pierce”
“We fell out of contact relatively quickly after the armistice,” he swallowed, “It just... so happened. There was no fight, no one was at fault, but... we just...” He didn’t finish.

“That was... why I was so shocked that you wouldn’t tell BJ about what was happening in your life. It had always been my biggest regret coming back, that I never got to know your father as a civilian. BJ in San Francisco. When you told me about... well, the lies, I... my wires got crossed and I got scared that you might have a falling out with your father the same way I had, all those years ago.”

She turned away, not knowing what to say. His concern wasn’t unrealistic. “I’m sorry it happened this way.”

Silence came up between them. Well, not silence. The cityscape’s background noise never quieted, people were going shopping, cars were rushing by, barking dogs and tash rustling in the wind. The air was brisk and thick from the humidity, smelling faintly of garbage. Erin looked at Hawkeye from the corner of her eyes. His face scrunched up in dismay, hands buried in his jacket.

Hawkeye looked more pained than she had ever seen him. When he spoke again, his voice was thin and unsteady.

“If you call them tomorrow or next week or whenever you do... could you do me a favor?”
Erin raised a cheeky eyebrow into the stiff silence: “Depends on the favor”
His eyes glittered with tears, reflecting the lights of the city around them. “Can you just say ‘hi’ to him for me?” A heavy pause. “Your mother as well? Please, Erin, it would mean the world to me if you could... just to, I don’t know,” he started rambling, “Just to hear his words, I guess”
“Hawk,” said Erin, immediately quieting him, “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

He shook his head: “It’s... it’s not that easy”
She pinned him with her gaze: “It kind of is”
His eyes widened. “No. No, no, no–” but Erin had no intention of backing off.
“I’ll give you their number and you can call them!” Her voice turned frantic in anticipation.
“Erin...”
“They would be delighted to hear from you!”
“Nuh-uh. You don’t know that. You just said that they’ve never mentioned me”
“To me, you doofus. They never mentioned you to me, to some child that was inevitably going to ask about Korea if your name came up. Who knows who my parents discussed between them,” but he shook his head.
“This is stupid”
“This is amazing. Hawkeye,” she scratched her chin, another idea forming in her mind. Unpacking the dirty tricks, huh?

“Hawkeye, if you don’t call my parents, I won’t tell them that I’ve killed my university degree.”

Her statement was fierce, jaw set, chin up. He chuckled nervously.

“You wouldn’t”
“I would”
“Erin,” his voice turned scared again, “I don’t know if I can”
“I’ll even announce you. I’ll call first and tell them my advisor will be talking to them the next week and they’ll expect you”

He looked away, then back at Erin.

“I will have to call them eventually. And you’ll have to, too. Otherwise, my graduation will be a really unpleasant surprise when they meet you there for the first time”

If it was possible, his eyes widened another bit: “You drive a hard bargain, young Hunnicutt...”
“If I have to see that desolate face of yours again over the missing contact to my parents, Hawkeye, it might get ugly”

He closed his eyes and smiled. For a moment there, both kept up the silence between them.

“Okay,” said Hawkeye, nearly inaudible. Nearly. “Okay.” He repeated keener and once more to himself: “Okay.” Erin smiled. “Okay”

He looked at her; honest and vulnerable and Erin knew at that moment that he would keep his promise.

Hours later – maybe just a few minutes, but the cold was stinging – the bus arrived with squeaking tires, splattering the rain across the sidewalk. Erin rose first, turned to Hawkeye and stretched out her hand. He looked up at her through wet eyelashes, then looked at her hand, took it and smiled.

↑ April-June 1971

Another round of gauze across the patient’s chest, thin fabric spreading through Erin’s gloved fingers. Under the bright white lights of OR, she placed the last dressing, before handing over to Kat and moving to the sink where Hawkeye was leaning against the stainless steel.

“Well done,” he said, as she went for the soap. She nodded. “Thanks”

Hawkeye looked exhausted, his slouch more pronounced, eyes half-lidded, cheeks rosy, his scrubs were rumpled. He looked about the way Erin felt.

“And?” He asked.
“And, what?”
“Well, what could I possibly mean?”
Erin sighed. “I haven’t called them yet”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s Friday, and I said I would call them on Sunday, as per usual”

His hand moved to the mask still hanging from his neck, twisting the fabric between his fingers.

“Why,” she spluttered a grin, “are you excited?” Of course he wasn’t.
“Try antsy”
“Relax,” Erin said, toweling off her hands and facing him, “there’s no need to rush now”

If it was in any way possible, he looked even more nervous.

“Everything will be fine,” she pinned him with a last glance before heading for the door.
“Yeah,” he averted his eyes, pushing himself off the sink, following her, “I guess it has to”

Everything was not fine, Erin decided at this moment. The cold phone grasped in her clammy hand, left pointer hovering over the dial plate, while her heart was going a mile a minute with every number she added. Every second felt drawn out into eternity until her father picked up and a firm focus set in.

“Hello?”
“Dad – good to hear you. I will cut straight to the chase,” Erin’s voice shook.
“Oh, Erin, hi!” her mother’s voice came through as well. Great, two birds – one stone.
“I have a confession to make,” she pressed on, flurry bleeding from her stomach into her throat. Spitting the words felt like throwing up.

“Oh God,” her mother whispered, “you’re pregnant?!”
“No–”
“You got someone pregnant?” Her father asked.
“No, can we cut the jokes? I’m serious,” Erin corrected again. At least the nerves had faded into annoyance. There was a brief silence on the other end, while she buried her face in her hands.

BJ’s voice came softly through the line: “What’s the problem, Erin?”
With her teeth pressed together, Erin forced out the truth: “I got exmatriculated”

Illegible silence on either end. Erin couldn’t stand it. It was like all the breaks had come off her lies: “Actually, that happened last November. I got thrown out of school last November and I lied to you about it. I’m sorry. That’s why I’m calling. I’m sorry, I really am. There were a lot of reasons for it, for both – leaving and lying... well, actually only two major ones. Whatever! Doesn’t really matter why they threw me out, fact is, they did and I lied about it. I was... afraid. Scared, I guess. I’m sorry, that was stupid. That was wholeheartedly stupid”

The stunned silence held on. In Mill Valley, BJ held the phone between himself and his wife. They were only inches apart, looking at each other. Peg’s face quickly softened, her hand coming up to his on the plastic. She gulped.

“Erin, love. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell us. Hey, honey,” she said as Erin began to cry, “We love you – those aren’t empty words. I’m sorry you felt like you had to lie to us”

“I’m so sorry,” Erin said through thick tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry”

“Erin, no,” her father said, his voice sounding wobbly, “no apologies, okay? What do you need, kiddo? Where are you staying right now, I can’t imagine they let you keep your old dorm room...”

“Do you need money?” Her mother’s voice had turned frantic, “Do you’ve got a room somewhere – Good Lord – don’t tell me you’ve been couchsurfing for half a year, Erin!”

She smiled, wiping off her face: Never mind her pragmatic parents.

“I’ve got a flat. In Brooklyn, I can walk to work, that’s very nice. I’m on an apprenticeship right now. Actually funny story how I got that one. The last six months were very... turbulent. But I’ll be a registered nurse, specifically a scrub nurse, if I can keep this thing. I’m positive I will, though. My mentor, he isn’t a lie, is very partial to me”

“Oh Erin,” her father said, sounding like he was crying as well, “I’m sorry you had to do all of that alone. I wish we could have been there. I know... I understand the pressure. I understand that you didn’t think you could tell us. I know there’s high expectations inside and out. I wish I could have softened the blow. I wish I could hug with this stupid phone”

Her throat constricted: “Me too, dad”

“Well, but I am interested now...” asked her mother, “What exactly was a lie and what wasn't?” Which got a real laugh out of Erin.

“Oh... there’s less lies than you probably expect, maybe less honesty in other places. I lied a lot about how hard uni was. I mean, I had no friends. And when I left, it nearly felt like I had never been there. I cried into my lunch. I was miserable and stressed. Sad stuff, really, I wasn’t going to admit to that. I honestly wasn’t excelling at the academic stuff, and at some point, my teachers had it out for me. I talked back a lot... I guess that’s the ‘fourth generation medical professional’-disease talking. I really wasn’t for the faint of heart. I asked a lot of questions, I think my professors were humiliated by that. One of them got really agitated over the fact that I mentioned congenital heart diseases in his lectures about heart diseases... weird guy. Well, and it didn’t help my case when he saw me push a medical student who told me – and I’m paraphrasing – ‘he’d put me in my place’. I’m pretty sure he’s the reason why they threw me at all”

“That’s awful,” her mother said, “I’m glad you left, actually. I think it would have been even more hell to stay at that place. I just wish it would have been easier. That I... that we could have been making this easier”

“I got a job at Downstate Medical Center. Different hospital, nicer people... nice neighborhood, too. They pay me decently. Anyways. I met my advisor there, he took a liking to me and when he found out that I had been lying to you, he’d kind of... freaked out, a little. He was furious. Thank God that he was, actually, otherwise, I’d still be lying to you”

“Oh, Erin,” said Peg.
“Yeah, I know. It has not been the best of years, I’ll be honest. But things are looking up: I’m learning a lot. I’ve met pretty cool people who like me and with whom I spend my time. I am feeling better than last month and the month before that and it doesn’t sound half bad on your side anyways!”
“What do you mean with that, honey?”

Erin took her time to answer. BJ twirled a lock of Peg’s blonde hair between his fingers and put it back behind her ear again.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Erin elaborated, “but you two didn’t sound very fine any time I asked how you were, despite what you said. And neither did Martin or Vincent, for that matter. You always sounded incredibly stressed, like your quick assurances only thinly veiled the panic”

BJ closed his eyes with an exhale as Peg took the receiver out of his hand. The other one came up to his cheek, caressing it with light strokes. They stood chest to chest now, close enough to breathe the same air. They felt so close: Close to each other, close to themselves, close to Erin.

“I knew you were climbing the walls over there. You weren’t very subtle”
“Honey, that’s still not your jobsite to worry about”
“I know, I know that, mom, but can you honestly blame me? I moved across the country! Of course you will be worried, you said it yourselves: It’s always been this way. I know how to deal with that. I’ve learnt how to deal with that. But it also means that I can’t suddenly drop a bomb on you, now, saying I got exmatriculated. I couldn’t, not then anyways. I can, now, because I know you’re not clutching the phone like it’s the last straw,” she slowed down, “I’m sorry, again. That it went this way, that I never said anything, that I was a coward, but I honestly couldn’t see another way”

There was very little BJ could say to that. He snuffled: “I’m sorry we worried you so much. I’m sorry we didn’t give you an alternative”
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth. That wasn’t very considerate. You must have thought a lot about our wellbeing while you were over there struggling yourself. Erin... we would do anything for you. If you told us to come get you, we would fly out there tomorrow. And if you told us to stop calling immediately, we would do that too”

As always, Peg was right, BJ noticed. He would do anything for his daughter, anything, even if that meant never talking to her again and giving her space – even if that would go against everything in his heart. For a second there, he lost himself in the cold and dark thought of losing contact with Erin on her behalf, before her voice tugged him out of his mind, as always.

“No! God, please. All those months and my only line back to reality and comfort were your calls. Please don’t stop calling on my account. Shit... I’m sorry, you’re sorry, maybe we can get Martin and Vincent in on this sorry party...”

With a jolt, the world returned to normal again. Suddenly, the past half-hour felt surreal: Like as if reality had been temporarily levered out for this conversation and now was being lowered to the ground again. BJ couldn't help but laugh.

“Maybe,” he said, “if you teach ‘em the word first!”
“BJ.” Peg clucked her tongue.
His eyes turned soft for her: “Just kidding, love”

“So,” said Erin, “Is everything fine now?”
“If you’re asking, if we’re mad at you, that question will forever be no”

Tears glistered in the corners of Peg’s eyes, her brows furrowed. BJ tried to wipe the creases away, but she just kissed his palm.

“My advisor wants to call you, by the way,” Erin’s voice pierced the room again.
“Your advisor? Why?”
“Lay off, dad. He isn’t mad or anything, he just said he wants to get to know you. Standard stuff, really. Is there any day that you’re free?”

Peg shrugged. “He could call Wednesday?”

Erin beamed at the telephone: “Wednesday would be perfect.”

“Your turn,” Erin said soon as Hawkeye was within earshot. “Wednesday evening. I checked your schedule: No surgeries, so no excuses”

Hawkeye came to a stop at the nurses’ station, placing a file behind the counter.

“You don’t let anything hold you up, do you?”
“Never,” she determined.

Hawkeye pulled out a pen. “So, how did it go?”

Erin contemplated her answer. “It was okay... lots of crying, from both sides. They seemed more distraught than me. But we’re okay now. Oddly enough, I do feel better”

“Who would have thought?” He smiled, then added after a second: “Could you give me a patient admission form?”

“Hey!” Erin protested, handing him the paper, “You’ve got no right to the ‘I Told You So’-routine until you’ve called back”
“Please don’t remind me,” his smug voice supplied, “I’m trying to forget the whole matter,” he pushed himself away into the hallway again, but Erin wouldn’t give up so easily: “If you ‘forget’ to call, I’ll have to bring in the big guns, Pierce!”

Hawkeye ground his teeth. His forehead met the brick wall once more for good measure. Out of the corner of his eye, he gazed at the crumpled-up note on the telephone. The yellow paper was useless by now, the words branded into the backside of his eyelids. An uneven inhale. Eyes screwing up. A hand coming up to rub over his face.

You promised, he told himself again. You promised her. His eyes flew open. Hawkeye began to dial.

In his plight, a lovely voice picked up: “Hunnicutt residence, this is Peggy”

Now or never, Hawkeye.

“Hello Mrs. Hunnicutt, my name is Benjamin Pierce. I’m calling from New York City. I am your daughter’s supervisor”

His voice was oddly steady, letting the introduction flow in one big breath. Taking a swim in someone’s chest cavity is less stressful than this.

Peggy turned to her husband sitting at the kitchen table, giving him a big smile and a thumbs up. There was excitement glimmering in her eyes. “Yes,” Peggy answered, her eyes still fixed on BJ. “Erin said you would be calling”

Step one. Start with Erin.

“I want to reassure you at first,” he finally said, “this is more of a social call. I... I need you to know how amazing Erin is. I mean it. She’s...” Hawkeye struggled for words, wringing his fingers through his hair, “she’s smart and dedicated. She’s quick and cheerful, she’s perfect”

Peg’s smile broadened.

A few feet behind her, only barely restraining himself from getting up and huddling around the speaker like school children, BJ stayed seated and kneaded his knuckles.

“I am glad to hear,” his wife said, “I hope you’ve told her as well”
“Mrs. Hunnicutt, I fear I must sound like a broken record to your daughter. I wish I could tell her more often. It’s a delight working with her. I’m certain she has a bright path ahead of her,” he laughed nervously, “I take it that she told you about her degree?”

Peggy sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Yeah,” Peggy said, “she told us all about that degree and how it came to an end. Listen, is everything alright with her? I mean... she’s never been the type to lie so thoroughly”

Hawkeye had to think about that for a second, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

“Mrs. Hunnicutt, sometimes–” he started but she interrupted him: “Sorry, please, call me Peg”
“Peg, the way I understand it, is that your daughter loves you a whole lot. She loves you all the way back to Mill Valley and three times across the globe and sometimes that love hinders the truth. Because she is simply scared of what the truth would do to those she loved and those who love her back”

Peg nodded. “I just wish she could have been honest. I wish she could have felt secure enough to be honest”
“She’ll learn. Sometimes, all it takes is one of such experiences and if she’s ever in a similar situation, perish the thought, she’ll remember how gentle and caring her parents were”

Suddenly, a warm hand was placed over shoulder, another one on her hip. BJ had snuck up on her.

When no response cut through the silence, Hawkeye started talking again.

Two. APOLOGIZE!!!

“Peg, I’m not only calling for your daughter, uhm...” he stalled again, “look, there seems to be an interesting coincidence in this case, since I knew a Dr. Hunnicutt once”

Peg felt BJ straighten up behind her. The voice was muffled as it came through the speaker, but even then, it sounded oddly familiar to him.

“And the name isn’t incredibly popular,” Hawkeye dashed on, afraid to falter once he slowed down. “So when Erin told me that her father had been a surgeon in Korea, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the same Hunnicutt I met there” His knees were shaky, his torso held up by the wall the telephone was mounted to.

Peggy hesitated and put a hand over the receiver. She turned her head to face BJ: “He's asking about you. Or someone who could be you... But you don’t know a Benjamin Pierce from Korea, do you?”

His blood turned icy. Heart stuttering, fingers digging into Peg’s shoulder. His face had slipped away into shock. “Benjamin Pierce?” He asked, voice not above a whisper.

Peg furrowed her brows and nodded. In an uncoordinated rush, thrusting his wife aside slightly to grasp the receiver, BJ pressed himself to telephone.

“Hawkeye?!” He yelled into the speaker, both hands pushing the plastic into his skull. Hamstrung, BJ stared at his wife, fearing and hoping. Peg looked about as taken aback as BJ felt, recognising the name: “Hawkeye?” she mouthed.

And truthfully came the throaty voice of Hawkeye Pierce through the phone: “Hey Beej.”

For a second BJ could do nothing but stare. Memories and quips, half-formed letters and soliloquies rushed to mind. It was almost too much; Hawkeye’s voice, grainy through the transmission but clear enough to make out the thick mixture coating it: Remorse, nerves and relief, happiness. BJ glanced at Peg. “Hawkeye,” he said again, “Hawkeye, please tell me it’s really you,” He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. Not after all those years, he had to hear it in his voice.

“Yeah,” came the confirmation in the correct timbre, the correct fall of the vowels, the correct hesitation to the words following: “long time no see.”

He didn’t know what to say. After such a long silence, after all this time to think, all those promises made to himself (‘I’ll call later’) and now that he had him on the line, BJ’s mind turned up blank. He barely registered his wife’s hand on his arm or the hesitant but promising expression she gave him.

“Peg,” BJ said, straightening up, not bothering to cover the speaker, “it’s really Hawk,” a smile appeared on his face, splitting it in half. “It’s really Hawk,” he repeated to himself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to hear you, Hawk”
“Me too, Beej. Me too”

Crushingly fast, BJ realized how absurd this call was. What are the odds? He had to giggle.

“I would ask you how you are, but I feel like that’s kind of a small question for so many topics to cover”
“I guess we would have a lot to catch up on”

Silence penetrated the space. Awkward silence, Hawkeye thought. He dreaded the next section, the weird exchange of pleasantries. That was why he spluttered for a response, when BJ’s voice came through scared and determined: Hectic.

“Don’t you dare shut up now, Hawkeye. I didn’t listen to your rants for two years for you to shut up now, please. Please. What... I figure you’re not living in Maine anymore?”

It put a hesitant smile on Hawkeye’s face. They weren’t entirely out of the woods, but his nerves had been eased a little.

“No, you’re right. I moved to the city almost immediately after the war. I couldn’t stand it anymore up there in the Cove. It’s awful, coming back and everyone comparing you to who you were, you know?”
“Yeah,” BJ said truthfully, “I know”
“My father still lives there. He’s fine, pushing eighty, but fit as a fiddle. I really am glad about that”
“That’s amazing to hear, Hawk. That’s great news”

There were a million things BJ wanted to ask him: How are you? How are your neighbors? Did something fun happen today? Tell me about the last time you got to pet a stray dog. Can I send you a postcard? Do you still think of Korea, sometimes? Do you miss me, sometimes? Do you expect a familiar face around the corner, like I do sometimes? Do you feel like someone’s ripped your heart in half and shipped one part to Maine, like I do?

Dully and safely, he landed on: “Do you still do surgery?”
“Why, BJ,” came the immediate response, “haven’t you heard? I’m also taking apprentices”

He laughed, pure relief rushing from head to toe: Every joke meant being a tiny step closer to normalcy.

“BJ, she is amazing. I know, I am repeating myself, but you have to know. You have to know that Erin is amazing”

The more Hawkeye let himself think about it, the more animated he became, the more his left hand picked up its usual gestures: “You can’t fathom how lucky you are!” He threw his back into the wall: “Your daughter is a miracle to work with. She’s exceptional, she’s caring and ambitious and genuinely, really, from the bottom of my heart a pleasure to teach and see time and again”

Emerging from his harangue, he took a deep breath, noticing the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. This is pathetic, he thought. It was only Erin. It wasn’t exactly news: Her value didn’t go unnoticed on him, he knew how much he cared about her. In fact, every run-of-the-mill day in the past six months had included Erin Hunnicutt and her amazing talent in the medical profession. So, why in the world was he getting emotional now?

Hawkeye laughed sadly. “Even if I had only seen her work, I would have known she was your child,” he capped off with a joke, brushing his tears away. That was the core issue, right? It was Erin that he worked with and taught. It was his former best friend’s oldest child, it was the weight of her importance. BJ and Peg did such an amazing job raising her, so who was Hawkeye now to interfere with this perfection?

Wait a minute, Hawkeye thought. “Did she tell you how we met?”
“No,” BJ said, “should she?”

“She damn well ought to. BJ, we were in OR, I only assisted. It was a huge invasive surgery, chest cut fully open. I don’t even remember what we did, but the patient went into sudden cardiac arrest. Complete asystole, not a twitch to that thing. And you’d think, the leading surgeon would start calling the shots, wouldn’t you? Well, Anderson is his name, a dangerous loon, who couldn’t discern a fork from a scalpel, just fucking says ‘Let’s call it quits, then’ and Erin,” Hawkeye had to go for a breath, “Erin, that beautiful soul, immediately drops the retractors before any of us could react and starts open heart CPR. Immediately, Beej, with gusto. Maybe not surgical precision, but she did it with conviction. She had more of a medical mind than a studied surgeon in that room”

He let that sentence linger between them for a moment before defeatedly adding: “That’s why I have to tell you how great your kid is”

Peg’s voice came through the static: “No, she didn’t say any of that”
“You raised her well. You raised her really well, that’s all I’m trying to say”

“You should have seen her in middle school. God, Hawk, she was enamored with all sorts of bones and how they break. She had me map out her ribcage, her spine, radius and ulna with chalk on her skin”

Peg laughed.

“Was that the year she started collecting animal carcasses to pick apart the bones?”
“I think so, yeah”
“You should have seen her, Hawk”
“I think I can imagine what she was like”

Yes, thought Hawkeye, somewhat like this: Erin at her highschool graduation, getting a diploma and jumping into her parent’s arms. Erin at school, dedicating her days to the study of all things, goal-oriented as always. Erin with her friends. Erin in middle school collecting animal carcasses to dissect them and her parents’ shocked faces. Erin in elementary school. Erin, Erin, Erin. Erin’s first bike ride, Erin’s first baseball game, Erin’s paintings taped to the refrigerator. Erin caring for her brothers. Erin between Peg and Beej, Martin and Vincent.

Hawk had to stop himself before he dissolved into tears.

“I’m so sorry, BJ,” Hawk admitted, “I’m so sorry it happened this way. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get my shit together and visit you in San Francisco, I’m sorry I was a coward, I’m sorry I stopped calling, I’m sorry I stopped writing, I’m sorry we lost each other, I’m sorry”

BJ smiled, he felt strangely excited for what he was about to say. “Hawk.” his voice calm, his smile noticeable, “I’m not,” he shrugged. Peg hit him in the arm, which made BJ grin a little wider. “I’m not sorry, because otherwise we maybe would have lost each other for good. I don’t want to linger on the sorries, Erin’s apologies were enough for a lifetime. I’d rather focus on the positives: I’m glad you called.”

Hawkeye stalled. Well, this was unexpected!

“I’m glad I heard your voice again. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, that your father is doing well, that Erin is doing well. I’m glad to hear that you’re still here,” BJ went on as Peg’s face landed on his chest. His hand came up to her forehead..

“Hawk… sometimes I think, if someone were to cut me open, they would find one thousand things I love buried in my intestines, of which at least eight feet are labeled ‘property of Hawkeye Pierce’ in permanent marker”
“Beej, you’ve got a way with words.”

With how the conversation was going, Hawkeye felt bold enough to risk a last jump: “Would you be... I mean, uhm, would it be within your interest to keep in contact?” He stumbled over the words as he presented his heart on a platter, ready for BJ to take it or throw it away.

“Of course, Hawk. Absolutely”
“Oh… I didn’t expect that!”
“Do you... not want to stay in contact?”
“No!” he yelled immediately, “I mean, yes, definitely I want to hear from you. I need to hear from you. BJ, Erin’s been talking my ears off about her parents and brothers and what you are doing and how you are doing and I... I miss you so much. I forgot how much I missed you, Beej. I’m sorry, again. I miss you, I... I want to get to know you, again. After all this time, I want to be near you, again”
“That’s funny, Hawk. I don’t think there’s a lot of new things to get to know here. I feel mostly the same”

A snort came through from California, followed by Peg’s voice: “You know what they say: Boil the frog and it won’t budge…”
“Hawk.”
“Beej?”
“If I call this number next Wednesday evening, what are the chances that I may hear your angelic voice again?”
“Pretty high, if you keep up the flattery”
“And what are the chances that you would like to hear my godlike voice again?”
“Make that an ‘our’, BJ. I’d love to hear more from our friend”
“I’d be delighted. I’d be jumping up and down all day. I’d love to hear from you both.”

The conversation was essentially over, BJ noticed, and yet… and yet they clung to the silence between them.

“I can’t bring myself to hang up, Beej”
“Me neither”
“Same here,” came Peg’s voice from BJ’s chest.
“I want to crawl into your heart,” said Hawkeye.
“Sorry?”
“It’s from a poem I read recently. I’d like to crawl into your hearts, that way, I don’t have to leave you”
“We’ll write you a letter every day and pour our hearts out there, would that be something?”
“It would. I never thought you’d be the poetic type. Peg”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Benjamin Pierce,” she grinned mischievously, “How lucky we are to have the time to remedy that”

“Hawk? We’ll see you next Wednesday, or in a letter before that”
“I’ll see you two on Wednesday”

A few unintelligible bits of conversation came through the line, before it ebbed away into the dial tone. With reluctance, Hawkeye placed the phone back on the hook. There was something strange brewing inside him: Elevated nerves sunken to the basement, his knees still wobbly, he couldn’t really feel his fingers.

Still, he felt strangely serene. A little switch in the back of his head had been flipped after twenty long years. He never wanted to touch it again. Hawkeye slid down the wall, giggling to himself. What a sight, he thought.

3.000 miles westward, BJ cried into Peg’s hair, clasping her torso tightly, not an inch between them. Smelling the familiar scent of his wife, his mind drifted somewhere between Mill Valley, New York, Crabapple Cove and Uijeongbu, Korea.

Under the welcoming May sun, lunch happened at Pauline’s Corner Store and Deli. Hawkeye making a mess with the bright green pea soup on the red checkered plastic tablecloth and Erin plucking a pastrami on rye to pieces. Between them stood two seltzers and two weeks worth of medical notes.

“I’ve only got two more surgeries today,” he said while shoving another spoonful to his mouth, “Miss Patel with the lung lobectomy and Mister… uh…“
„Henderson“
„Thank you. Henderson with the lung biopsy. So, slow day. You’ll be assisting on both with nurse Gomez”

Hawkeye scraped his plate, piled the spoon on the dish and threw the crumpled napkin on top. Erin squinted.

“Has anybody told you that you eat like a swine?”
He smiled: “Only you and only every time I invite you to lunch”

His hand extended, reaching out to Erin’s clean plate, stacking it under Hawk’s pile of dirty dishes. She rolled her eyes.

“So?”
He looked up: “So?”
She leaned in: “Don’t get me wrong, our lunch dates are very fun and I appreciate you paying, but I couldn’t help but notice that every time these happen... you need to tell me something serious. So?”

Hawk sighed. He focused on the little droplet of pea soup still clinging to the table cloth.

“Nothing evades your sharp mind”
“You’re hard to evade when you invite me”

Hawkeye let his gaze wander around the premise. Several times, he opened his mouth, began a sentence with ‘I’ or ‘Well’, and stopped himself before he could speak his mind. He sighed again, hands fidgeting with the dirty plates.

“I’ve been in contact with your parents”
A beat. Then Erin’s confused response: “Shocker.”
“Erin!”
“Do they want to know if I’m sticking to my bedtime or what?”
“I’m serious!”
“So get on with it!”

He took another breath.

“I am talking to your mom and dad and...” Hawkeye explained uncharacteristically shy, “and they have invited me over for a weekend”

Erin looked up, surprised, but grinning. Going for a lighthearted tease, Erin gave the shrewd answer: “Well, congratulations, casanova”

The joke didn’t have the desired effect, instead, Hawkeye clammed up with a scared face.

“Listen, Hawk, I’ve got eyes,” she backtracked, “I’m not a complete idiot. I see how many letters they write you; both of them. I also see how many letters you write them” she paused, looking up to see if he followed.

“Furthermore, I can see your face when you read a letter from my mom and dad. By the way: You look like the most lovesick fool I’ve ever seen”

His mouth contorted. He looked stricken – as if the words ‘Peg and BJ Hunnicutt’ together with the word ‘love’ were a crime worth punishing.

“In a positive way,” she amended.
He nodded sarcastically: “Thanks Erin”
“I’m serious! Hawkeye, every time I call them up, they ask about you. They want to know how you are, even though they call you regularly. And every time they ask me to greet you. Don’t look so shocked. You knew that already, I always greet you”

She gave him room to answer.

“I guess... it’s different experiencing it and having it laid out in front of you”
“I can give it to you in writing, Hawkeye. They’re infatuated with you,” a quick pause, “So, when are you going?”
“I don’t know, Erin. I don’t...”
“What?! Come on, what did we just discuss?”

Noticing the stares of other patrons, Erin took a quick, hopefully repelling glance over her shoulder and bent forward. “Hello?!” she whispered, “Hawkeye. What else could prevent you from going?”

He took his courage in both hands: “I guess I’m scared that they’ll be disappointed. That I’ll be there and they’ll realize that I am just... me”
“I’m sorry, what kind of expectations are they supposed to have?”
“BJ could–”
“Hawk, they don’t know you. Everything they know about you is from your letters – and from what I can tell you, again, they adore your letters”
“And when I’ll be there? When we’ll have to get to know each other? What if they despise me? What if they think I’m ok in writing but abhorrent in person?”
“Has it occurred to you that you are taking the same risk? As in: You don’t know my parents either. You know their letters, sure, but you need to get to know each other over there and maybe you really hate the man BJ Hunnicutt has become in the past 20 years”

The mere thought seemed to put him into pain, so Erin carried on as fast as possible: “Sure, that’s a risk! That’s the risk of every human interaction, ever, but it’s an equal risk. You’re scared, they’re scared, you’re even. If you hate each other’s guts – you always have me”

“I’m afraid you don’t want that.”
“Want what?”
Hawkeye sighed.

“Grown-up words, come on”
“This is embarrassing – alright, alright. I’m scared you don’t want me to have a relationship with your parents... in whatever extent or direction that may be. I’m scared that you don’t want me in the family. Or that your brothers don’t want me there”

This was getting ridiculous, Erin thought.

“Hawkeye. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. And, let me be clear, sometimes what makes you happy goes against what makes me and my brothers happy and – wait, let me speak first – and that’s fine. That’s completely fine. You deserve to live your life the way you want to, yes, sometimes despite what someone’s kids have to say about that. We would make that work”

“But–”

“But the fact that you are so concerned whether my brothers like you... that shows me that you’re a pretty moral guy, who’s actually really perfect for starting a relationship with my parents ‘in whatever extent or direction that may be’. You’re considerate! That’s all you need to be for now. Hawkeye, of course you have my blessing. You make my mom and my dad happy and they make you happy and that’s all I can ask for. Of course I want you in the family, you doofus, what kind of question is that? You’re an amazing person, holy crap. And, by the way: If they wouldn’t have invited you soon, I would have busted their chops”

It occurred to her at that moment that Hawkeye had begun to cry.

“See, that’s why you shouldn’t throw the napkin on the dirty plate until you leave. Never be unprepared for a surprise crying session,” she said and gave him her napkin.

He chuckled a wet smile.

“Thanks, kid”
“And if you’re still scared, I’ve got a secret tip for you”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, drying his eyes.
“Vincent can be bribed with movie tickets and cinematic shoptalk. And Martin’s biggest hobby has always been comic books”

There was hope in his eyes. He swallowed a few times. Erin ran a hand through her hair. It must be kind of scary, she guessed, rekindling an expired flame. Or maybe ‘expired’ was the wrong word, maybe it wasn’t too late to coax the embers back into its full potential. Nevertheless, that wasn’t as difficult as Hawk made it out to be.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you,” he said after some time, “Come on, let’s get out of here”

As Erin pushed the wooden chair up to the table and caught up to Hawk at the register, it all felt very simple. Everything would turn out to be fine, she was sure of it.

Thanksgiving had always been Erin’s favorite holiday. The shoddy dinner table buried under a linen tablecloth, the gloomy weather outside, orange leaves reflecting yellow kitchen light. BJ had been baking muffins after cakes after biscuits, relentlessly working the oven, while Peg had prepared meats, mashed potatoes and completely burn-free green beans, thank you very much. Meanwhile, Hawkeye had played the kitchen radio, cleaned the dishes, polished the silverware and interspersed all kinds of talk with gratuitous kisses to both her parents.

Said man was currently snoring on the lilac couch, duvet draped lazily over his tangled figure. Peggy slept in his arms. She was boxed in between his knitted yellow gecko pullover and the soft backrest, quietly dozing. Erin had watched Hawkeye devour at least two cannikins of cranberry sauce with the appropriate amount of turkey over the course of the evening. She wondered how he wasn’t doubling over in stomach cramps, but didn’t come to a conclusion.

Her father was washing up the crockery, whistling as he did so. She had seen him livelier today than any other time in the last year. Then again, they had only been able to meet via landline. The entire evening, he had sat between Hawkeye and his wife, an arm at all times over one of them and (Erin was sure of it) an ankle wrapped around the other. BJ had smiled his 1,000 degree sunshine smile, cackled to his heart’s desires until his cheeks were red and rosy and most importantly: He had adoringly watched his loved ones have a good evening. Erin did, a little bit, preen herself upon the realization that she was partially responsible for that happiness.

She looked back to her mother. For most of the day, Peg had accepted her admirers, receiving and returning all sorts of kisses throughout the day: On the lips, the ears, shoulders when she couldn’t turn in time, her back, palms and fingertips and most importantly: Thrown around the air when the space between them had become too big to actually meet. At around 9 o’clock, she had decided to lose her inhibitions and start singing all kinds of tunes at the dinner table. First some chansons from the radio, then Hawkeye’s beloved operas and lastly resulting in loudly humming some jazz melodies, before crashing into the couch.

It was tranquil now in the living room. The day lived in high euphoria now spent. The remnants of a good time strewn across the room – exhausted on the floor. Like a good summer day that burned itself out at nightfall. In the background, the TV was showing some old Hollywood flick. Vincent sat on the floor, watching it with drooping eyes. Martin laid on his belly, feet in the air, reading some comic book he had gotten from Hawkeye. It occurred to Erin at this moment that her brothers would be sixteen next month. Sweet sixteen, she thought, what I would have given to skip that age entirely.

In three days time, Erin would have to take herself back to cold New York City, diving into another large chunk of her training to become a nurse. Hawkeye would stay another week or two, frittering away his vacation days at this time of the year as usual. It felt great, having a family wherever she went: Hawkeye in New York and her parents in California. Though, there was excitedly whispered talk about moving the entire affair into one big household.

Erin looked at the devastated dinner table. Ruined linen, lipstick stains on the glasses, turkey bones and dried grease. Her eyes closed involuntarily; She was looking forward to tomorrow.