“Glenn Gleason, head of the Department of Internal Surgery.”She heard him pause and wondered if she was supposed to say something like “How proud your mother must be!” or “How wonderful for you!” to acknowledge the value of the information. But he wasn’t looking at her, which convinced her not to interrupt. She thought he might hold out his hand and nervously wiped her sweaty palm across her coat sleeve. But he didn’t. He just continued in his firm voice that made her feel he must be smart and r...ight, whatever he said.“I’m sorry to tell you Mrs. Berkowitz…”She was startled, then ashamed for him. But she held back her corrections, hoping there would be more mistakes and that the voice would leave more holes, yawning gaps through which she and her children could escape.“Your husband passed away two hours ago.” “Dave? Dave Markowitz?”He looked down, shuffling papers, confused. “Markowitz? Yes. I’m terribly sorry. Markowitz,” he repeated. “What?” she said harshly, stupidly.“For the mistake, and of course, for your loss,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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