The technician from Glasgowand the Little Rock nurse break through morning. I hear that brogue and roll over in my sleeper, my bed for the last too many days, and I say "talk to me," to the Tech. She blushes like a woman half of half her age and asks "what would you like me to say?"
"Tell me about your home," I start but the nurse stops me short. "You are from London?" she asks. The wrong question at 4:45 in the morning. The Tech turns. "No" she says, cheeks flaming and Looking for the right response but she is flummoxed.
There are few things cuter than a Glasgowian in her sixtieth year rendered speechless at 4:45 in the morning by a Little Rockian with no large penchant for geography. I roll over and there is Amber, laughing on the foldout couch, hair awhirl.
Amber begins defusing the fire by sharing about the time she visited the motherland, the countryside, the fish and chips, the hospitality. The Tech turned to Amber and smiled, saying "it's so much more civilized than London town." Yes, flummoxed Scottish women are cute at 4:45,
but Amber outdoes them all.
Amber gives a Titus update today. The good news? Today we're going home!