“Well, well, my uppity daughter,” Juan scoffed after the initial hellos. “What’s the occasion I get a call from the snooty doctor-to-be?”

Jennifer ignored the provocation. “It’s about Granny,” she said simply. She was insistent that she wasn’t going to be baited into expanding the conversation beyond the issue at hand.

“What about Granny?”

“Where is she?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me where she is.”

“She’s in India. She finally had her hip repaired. You know how hardheaded she is. I’ve been asking her to do it for a couple of years since it was really getting in the way of her work.”

Jennifer bit her tongue about the comment concerning work, knowing her father’s history. “Have you heard from the doctor or the hospital or anything?”

“No. Why should I?”

“They have your telephone number, I assume.”

“Certainly.”

“How come you didn’t go with her?” It pained Jennifer to think of her grandmother going all the way to India by herself and facing major surgery when the most distant travel she’d ever done was come to California to visit Jennifer.

“I couldn’t go with my back the way it is and everything.”

“How was this surgery set up?” Jennifer questioned. She wanted to get off the phone. The fact that no one had called Juan was definitely encouraging.

“By a company in Chicago called Foreign Medical Solutions.”

“Do you have the number handy?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” Jennifer could hear the receiver drop onto the tiny side table. She could picture it by the entrance door in the part of the apartment that was supposed to be used for a dining table but which contained Juan’s bed. A minute later Juan came back and rattled off the Chicago number. As soon as Jennifer had it, she hung up. She didn’t feel like hypocritical small talk or even saying good-bye. With the number in hand she dialed Foreign Medical Solutions, and after telling an operator who she was and what she was calling for, she was switched to an individual named Michelle, whose title was case manager. The woman had an impressively deep, resonant voice with a slight southern accent. After Jennifer repeated her story, Michelle asked her to hold the line. For a few moments Jennifer could hear the unmistakable sound of a computer keyboard in use as Michelle pulled up Maria Hernandez’s file.

“What is it you were hoping to learn?” Michelle asked, coming back on the line. “As a medical student, you’re probably aware that HIPAA rules limit what we can give out, even if you are who you say you are.”

“First I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s doing very well. She had her surgery, which went smoothly. She spent less than an hour in the PACU, and then was moved to her room. It’s indicated she’s already started fluids by mouth. That’s the latest entry.”

“Was that recently?”

“It was, indeed. Just a little more than an hour ago.”

“That’s good news,” Jennifer said. She was even more relieved than when Juan said he’d heard nothing. “Do most of your patients from the Queen Victoria Hospital do well?”