MRS. FEELEY SAID over her coffee. “I gotta see Timmy right away. There’s plenty beer hooked up to see you through the noon hour an’ you can call Ol’-Timer from the car-lot if you need extra.” “Visiting hours do not begin until two,” Miss Tinkham said. “They’ll have to change the rules some. I’m takin’ a cab. Hold the fort till I come back.” “I’ll save your lunch,” Mrs. Rasmussen said. “Them chicken necks an’ backs was simmered all night with a handful o’ dried mushrooms an’ a speck o’ saffron. When I put in that rice an’ Italian cheese, it’ll sure be tender!” “This ain’t no social call,” Mrs. Feeley explained to the nurse in charge. “It’s a matter of a man’s place of business bein’ sold out from under him if I don’t get to talk to him.” “We can’t make any exception. You’d have to have a note from the doctor.” “Then just turn your head the other way for a second, girlie. I’m bigger’n you…an’ I’m goin’ in!”
