The Note Under the Table
She had made a small ceremony of it, the way she made a ceremony of everything, and I had been touched by the care.
A woman thinking of my stress.
A woman who wanted to help me relax.
Every kind thing she had ever done for me reorganized itself in that hallway into a single long approach, and the tea in front of me stopped being tea and became the last step of a plan that had begun two years earlier in a room full of people who love sick children.
My name is Dr.