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Created on: November 30, 2007 Last Updated: September 28, 2010
Cafeteria Christmas
"The birds are singing, for me and my gal," Max sang as he positioned his bow-tie.
Eleanor! I will see her today. Max fantasized having Christmas dinner with her.
Thursday was Seniors' Day. The Harbor Hospital Cafeteria prepared excellent hospital meals. Max often received his meals free, however, because he was a cafeteria volunteer. There was an unspoken, unwritten rule amongst the cafeteria workers any cafeteria volunteer over 70 received free meals on Thursdays.
Eleanor was a Thursday person, too. Every Thursday she volunteered in the gift shop or the hospital library, or wherever she was sent. Max smoothed his semi-circle of white hair that ran from ear to ear, adorned his hat, and dreamed of Eleanor.
The cafeteria was decorated with poinsettias, red balloons and a partially decorated Christmas tree. The long, flowing sleeves of Eleanor's deep red blouse were catching on the branches of the tree as she stretched to secure an angel to the top of it.
A widower of 20 years, Max longed for company. The longing intensified at the sight of Eleanor. In her presence he felt young again and full of jitters.
His daughters lived several states away from him. He couldn't afford to visit them, nor could they afford to visit him, save once or twice a year. They bought him a cell-phone with the special weekend and after 7 p.m. free calls. Though he had trouble seeing the buttons, Max managed to hit the right numbers.
Christmas was coming, and this year he wanted to eat Christmas dinner with Eleanor.
Max had 2 jobs. In the morning he prepped the counters with condiments, filled the napkin holders, and wiped down the tables.
Afterward, he indulged in a cup of coffee and a chocolate donut. Sometimes he would chow down on a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.
For afternoons, he ran errands around the hospital. Hospital staff knew him by name. This was home.
He checked his pocket calendar. Only two Thursdays remained to introduce himself and ask Eleanor to join him for Christmas dinner.
"Max," came the page, "Please go to X-Ray."
Patients were lined against the wall in their wheelchairs waiting to be rolled back to their rooms. Just as he finished this task another page came.
"Max, please go to the Emergency Room."
It was 2 p.m. by the time he finished picking up and delivering supplies for the ER. He returned to the cafeteria. The Christmas tree was fully decorated and lit. No Eleanor.
"Hi, Jo, can I have the clam chowder? I love clam chowder!" Jo generously
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