For an entertaining interlude they ducked into Filene’s Basement for a quick scouting of the merchandise. Both were experienced Filene’s Basement shoppers. Kim surprised herself by finding a great skirt originally from Saks Fifth Avenue.
After their shopping they strolled around the Boston Gardens and enjoyed the fall foliage and flowers. They sat for a while on one of the park benches and watched the swan boats glide around the lake.
“I probably shouldn’t say this,” Kinnard said, “but you do look a bit tired to me.”
“I’m not surprised,” Kim said. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Living in Salem hasn’t been particularly idyllic.”
“Anything you want to talk about?” Kinnard said.
“Not at the moment,” Kim said. “I suppose I’m confused about a lot of things.”
“I’m glad you came for a visit,” Kinnard said.
“I want to make sure you understand that I’m definitely staying in the guest room,” Kim said quickly.
“Hey, relax,” Kinnard said, lifting up his hands as if to defend himself. “I understand. We’re friends, remember?”
“I’m sorry,” Kim said. “I must seem hyper to you. The fact of the matter is that I’m the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.” She reached over and gave Kinnard’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you for being my friend.”
After leaving the park, they walked down Newbury Street and window-shopped. Then they indulged in one of Kim’s favorite Boston pastimes. They went into Waterstone’s Booksellers and browsed. Kim bought a paperback Dick Francis novel while Kinnard bought a travel book on Sicily. He said it was a place he always wanted to go.
Late in the afternoon they stopped into an Indian restaurant and had a delicious tandoor-style dinner. The only problem was that the restaurant lacked a liquor license. Both agreed the spicy food would have been far better with cold beer.
From the Indian restaurant they walked back to Beacon Hill. Sitting on Kinnard’s couch, they each had a glass of cold white wine. Kim soon felt herself getting sleepy.
She turned in early in anticipation of having to get up at the crack of dawn for work. She did not need any Xanax when she slipped between Kinnard’s freshly laundered sheets. Almost immediately she fell into a deep, restful sleep. 19
Monday,October 3, 1994
Kim had almost forgotten how hard a normal day was in the SICU. She was the first to acknowledge that after a month’s vacation she was out of shape for both the physical and emotional stamina that was needed. But as the day drew to a close, she had to admit that she’d truly enjoyed the intensity, the challenge, and the sense of accomplishment of helping people in dire need, not to mention the comradeship of shared endeavor.
Kinnard had appeared several times during the day with patients coming from surgery. Kim made it a point to be available to help. She thanked him again for the best night’s sleep she’d had in weeks. He told her that she was welcome anytime, even that night, despite the fact that he was on call and would be spending the night in the hospital.
Kim would have liked to stay. After her isolation at the compound, she’d enjoyed being in Boston, and she’d become nostalgic for the time she’d lived there. But she knew she had to get back. She wasn’t under any delusion that Edward would be available, but she still felt a strong obligation to be there.
As soon as Kim’s shift was over, she walked to the corner of Charles and Cambridge streets and caught the Red Line to Harvard Square. The trains were frequent at that hour, and after only twenty minutes she was walking northwest on Massachusetts Avenue on her way to the Harvard Law School.
Kim slowed her pace when she realized she was perspiring. It was another hot Indian summer day, without the previous day’s crystalline clarity. There was no breeze whatsoever, and a hazy, muggy canopy was stalled over the city, making it seem more like summer than fall. The weatherman warned of possible violent thunderstorms.
Kim got directions to the Law Library from a student. She found it with no difficulty. The air-conditioned interior was a relief.