Read A Place I've Never Been for Free Online

Mitsui says. “You know what happened to me once? I had to wait two hours in the waiting room, and then I had to wait an hour and a half in the examining room for the doctor, and then I had to wait another hour for them to take my blood. So when I heard the B.R. finally coming I pulled the sheet up over my face and pretended I was dead. It gave him a shock, I’ll tell you.”
    â€œWhat’s a B.R.?” a new wife asks sheepishly.
    â€œThat’s just group talk, honey,” responds a more experienced spouse. “It means ‘bastard resident.’ ”
    Olivia does not like to encourage this particular subject. “Let’s talk about what to do, practically, to allay waiting anxiety,” she says. “How can we help Christa get through tomorrow?”
    â€œOne of us could go with her,” Kitty Mitsui says. “Christa, do you play Scrabble?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Christa says.
    â€œI could do it,” Kitty says. “I’ve got the day off. I’ll sit with you. I’ll bring my portable Scrabble set. We’ll play Scrabble, and when we get bored with that, we’ll make origami animals. I know it’s not much, but it’s better than the fish tank.”
    â€œWaiting to hear if I’m going to live or not, if I can have a baby,” Christa says, “and they keep me in the waiting room. Christ, my life is on the line here and they make me wait.”
    Under the table, Eva’s hand takes Arthur’s. He folds the note she has given him into quarters, then furtively reads it.
    â€œHave you been putting the oil in her dinner?” Eva has written. “You need to for her coat.”
    It is decided. Kitty will go with Christa and Chuck to Christa’s doctor’s office tomorrow. She’ll bring her portable Scrabble set. And now, that matter concluded, Iris Pearlstein takes the floor and says, “If no one minds, I have something I’d like to address, and it’s this food. It’s hard enough for me to come here without it looking like I’m at a bar mitzvah.”
    For once Mrs. Jaroslavsky stares up from her knitting. “What?” she says.
    â€œThis food, this food,” Iris says, and waves at it. “It makes me sick, having to stare at it all night.”
    â€œI just wanted to make things a little more cheerful,” Mrs. Jaroslavsky says, her mouth trembling. She puts down her knitting.
    â€œOh, who’re you kidding, Doris? You want to make it more pleasant, but I’m sorry, there’s nothing nice about any of this.” She looks at her husband, Joe, broken by recent radiation, dozing next to her, and puts her hand on her forehead. “Christ,” she says,lighting a cigarette, “we don’t want to stare at fucking cake.”
    Arthur wonders if Mrs. Jaroslavsky is going to cry. But she holds her own. “Now just one minute, Iris,” she says. “Don’t think any of this is easy for me. When Morry was in the hospital, I was up every night, I was half crazy. What was I supposed to do? So I baked. That food was the fruit of suffering for my dying husband. You know how it was. I kept thinking that maybe if I just keep baking it’ll keep the clock ticking, thinking, God, for one more cake, give him six months.” She frowns. “Well, God defaulted. Now Morry’s gone, and my freezers are stuffed. The truth is I bake for all of you the way I baked for him. There’s nothing nice about it.”
    She resumes her knitting. Iris Pearlstein takes out a Kleenex to blow her nose. Once again Mrs. Theodorus takes Arthur’s hand under the table. Mrs. Jaroslavsky looks vibrant.
    â€œAsk if you can take home the poppy-seed,” Arthur reads when he unfolds Eva’s note.
    Arthur got the puppy when Mrs. Theodorus offered the group a discount on her new litter. “A pet can really cheer you up,” she explained at spouse night. “The