Walking Papers by Francesco Clark

Author:Francesco Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette Books
Published: 2010-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

15

A Doctor’s Son

“YOU SHOULD START A RESTAURANT,” MY BROTHER MIKE tells my mother. We’re all gathered around the family dining table one Thursday night—family night—feasting on crescentina, little light and crusty pieces of fried dough filled with cheese that melt on the tongue. “There’s an empty spot where the bank used to be.”

“No way!” my sister interrupts. “Could you imagine cooking all day, every day? And for people you don’t even know?”

“I would do it,” my mother muses. “If three friends did it with me. We could take certain days and cook only on those days.” I can see my mother starting to make the calculations.

“If you had help, it would do really well,” adds Valerie, my brother’s wife. By now, she is perfectly accustomed to every Northern Italian dish on the table, a succession of mouthwatering antipasti.

“Seriously? She’s already so busy as it is!” I point out. Everyone knows that it would be impossible, but still, we’re enjoying indulging the fantasy. A restaurant serving my mother’s and grandmother’s food would be a huge success.

My mother disappears into the kitchen and returns with the tagliatelle. My father’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the steaming pasta. Like him, we’re all hungry.

Ring, ring! The phone interrupts, as usual. Dad ducks his head down, avoiding the inevitable. My mom goes to answer the phone.

“Yes, he’s right here. One minute…”

For as long as I can remember, my dad has been getting calls from his patients at all hours of the day and night. This evening is no exception.

“Always during dinner,” my father grumbles. “I just sat down. Sheesh.”

But as he picks up the phone, his tone changes: He sounds warm, concerned, and above all, calm.

“Hello, Dr. Clark speaking…yes…she…what? She…no, that’s too high. I’ll be right there.”

As he goes to hang up the phone, my mother hands him hot bread with Brie on it. “Eat this,” she says. “I’ll have fish ready for you when you come back. Ciao!” She rubs his bald head and kisses his cheek.

Many dinners have been sacrificed over the years, but still, my father keeps up his house calls. There are very few doctors who provide such an old-fashioned service anymore, but my dad won’t give it up because he believes that when he sees patients directly, he can treat them more effectively. That’s why he got into medicine in the first place—because he wanted to help people feel better. It doesn’t matter that he misses dinner. The most important thing is that he is there when someone needs him.

For my dad, being a doctor isn’t just his job; it’s his calling. It’s also the reason he met my mother. After finishing his undergraduate degree at Manhattan College, he decided to go to the University of Bologna in Italy to study medicine. One day, he was in the university’s Johns Hopkins library when a striking young Italian woman came over to him and asked him to stop rustling his newspaper so loudly. This was my mother. She had

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