“I don’t know,” I look at the envelope again. Yup, they’re for me. I show the card to Sandy.

“Jeez.” She leans back in her chair. “That’s cool. Mystery man.”

The phone rings, and she turns to answer it. “Enjoy them,” she whispers, and then, in her work voice, “Good afternoon, Protemp.”

I gather my supplies, wondering all the while about who would send me such a thing. And then it comes to me. I go over to a desk, pick up the phone, and call DeWitt. When he answers, I say, “Did you send me flowers?”

He chuckles, low and long.

“Is this supposed to be an apology?”

Silence. Then, “Well, I guess if this bouquet ain’t enough, I could spend two hundred dollars, maybe that get the hair on your neck back down. People talk about ‘Don’t get the black woman mad.’ But they ain’t met you!”

“This is a very beautiful bouquet, DeWitt, but it is not an apology. I can’t be bought off this way.”

“Read the card, ain’t there some card come with it?”

“I read the card. It says, I surrender.”

“Aw, woman, what you want? Want me to beg and gobble?”

“I want you to accept responsibility for your behavior, DeWitt.”

“Whoa!”

“And I want you to apologize.”

“Well, fuck.”

“As for now, I have to go.”

“Aw, wait a minute. Just wait a minute!”

I stand still, say nothing.

“You still there?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So you want me to say this all my fault.”

“I want you to apologize.”

“Well, if I ’pologize, I am definitely not saying it’s all my fault. ’Cause it ain’t. If I ’pologize, it just some words I got to say to get you back here, take care this dressing like it should be took care of. You sent some nurse here don’t know how to find her way out of a closet if you put the door knob in her hand. Plus she sneezed, right in my open gut.”

“She sneezed in your wound, DeWitt?” I doubt it.

“I swear to God. On my mother’s grave, I swear to God and cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Well, I’m sure we can find you another nurse if you don’t get along with Jill.”

“Yeah, Kill, that’s what I call her. But I don’t want another nurse. I told you, I want you to come back!”

“Well. It appears that we’ve reached an impasse.”

“What you mean?”

“A place where we can go no further.”

“Oh. I thought you meant one of them things in canyons, like in the cowboy movies.”

“I’m going to hang up now, DeWitt.”

“All right, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt your tender little feelings that shouldn’t have been hurt and wouldn’t have been hurt if you’s a normal person.”

I sigh.

“Okay?”