He sighed as he entered in the data from the last patient. The lights flickered overhead, a plea to be replaced. The chair he sat in was rickety but stable. As stable as anything else in his life, which was falling apart.
His romantic life was nonexistent and he couldn't even remember the last time he took a day off. There was also a sad note that his favorite restaurant was closing down, due to the lack of business. And he lost one of his closest friends two weeks ago due to a freak car accident.
He put his hands to his face and sat there for a moment. Usually his job took his mind off of everything- after all, he was very dedicated to the help and care of others. But today, his mind and body were numb from the day's work. He had to console two different couples on the impending death of their children and perform an emergency operation on an elderly man. He sighed again. His scrubs ruffled from the movement of getting up from his chair. He walked briskly to the lobby to bid his good bye to the receptionists. He was done for the day.
He listened to the radio as he drove home from the hospital. He needed a good night's rest because he was to perform a major operation the next morning. He was after all, head heart surgeon and doctor of his unit.
He pulled the car in to his driveway and walked into his home.
As he entered, the aroma of spaghetti hit his nose and his mouth watered as he hadn't eaten in several hours.
He shook his head. No, it was only a fragment of a memory already gone by… He started towards the kitchen. As expected, there was nothing there.
He opened the fridge and inspected its contents. There was leftover fried rice from the Chinese take-out he ordered yesterday, the third time he ordered take-out that week. He had been too exhausted to even think about cooking. He dumped the contents of the box of fried rice into a bowl and set it in the microwave to heat. He was starving.
He sat at his kitchen table and tapped his fingers to some obscure rhythm of music in his head. A quick knock at the door interrupted his rhythm, just as the microwave sounded to let him know his rice was heated up.
With a partially annoyed look on his face and a growl from his stomach, he went to answer the door, wondering who it could be at this hour. He opened the door.
A young woman, maybe about his age or a couple years younger stood at the front door, looking confused. She was pretty, he noted.
"Is this the home of Dr…?" she trailed off, looking flustered.
"Yes, I'm him," he responded. "No one believes I'm head of the surgical unit on account of being so young, but yes, I'm the one you're looking for."
She didn't think the doctor would be so young or so…handsome. She blushed. "W-well, I'm here on behalf of my mother. She heard from her lady friends at the nursing home near here that you weren't just a great doctor, but a great musician as well."
It was his turn to redden. "I'm not that great but I do play piano on the side, some. I've played a bit at the nearby nursing home and such."
"Great!" She clasped her hands. "Do you think you would have time to come over to the home again this weekend? My mother's has been looking forward to your next visit, all the ladies got her excited about it."
"Yes. After the morning…procedure I have tomorrow, I should be free all afternoon to practice and can come over the next day, Saturday morning."
"Thank you so much! I'll be with my mother all Saturday. I'll be looking forward to seeing you there and hearing you play!" she said with a smile.
His heartbeat picked up. "Alright. Well, have a good evening and I'll see you Saturday." They said their good byes and the young doctor closed the door. He leaned against his door and thought about the woman who not only stood at the door of his home, but the door to his heart.
He wasn't hungry anymore. His fried rice was all but forgotten.