Chapter 4

Recognition:
Origin:
1425–75; late ME recognicion (< OF) < L recognitiōn- (s. of recognitiō), equiv. to recognit(us) (ptp. of recognōscere; see recognize ) + -iōn- -ion
–noun
1. an act of recognizing or the state of being recognized.
2. the identification of something as having been previously seen, heard, known, etc.
3. the perception of something as existing or true; realization.
4. the acknowledgment of something as valid or as entitled to consideration: the recognition of a claim.
5. the acknowledgment of achievement, service, merit, etc.
6. the expression of this in the form of some token of appreciation: This promotion constitutes our recognition of her exceptional ability.

Monday

The rhythmical, reassuring sound of Dante Bizzarri’s heart through the machines, its line displaying on the monitor, high peaks, regular peaks. Carmen observed it, her mouth and nose hidden behind the surgical cover, and sighed quietly. Her brown eyes were practically the only visible detail of her face and Carmen liked the idea to be, even so slightly, in hiding.

The latex gloves enveloped her hands so firmly, adhering to the skin. And yet she felt everything, as if her touch was amplified. She watched the man on the operating table, his green eyes turning glassy but still half-open, she saw his chest raising and falling slowly, regularly.

“Mr. Bizzarri…”, she called him out gently, brushing his shoulder and being careful to pronounce his name correctly.

He turned his head slightly and stared at her, blinking. His eyelids felt heavy.

Carmen smiled.

“How do you feel?”, she murmured.

Dante gave her a feeble thumb up and managed to put together a slight smile.

Carmen chuckled.

“You’re an optimist, huh?”.

He narrowed his eyes slyly and his oxygen mask steamed up as he tried to chuckle. He nodded, slowly, and swallowed.

“Always”, he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Carmen watched him with gentle eyes.

“Good. Here we go, then”.

She glanced at Jenny and nodded. Jenny turned around and showed Carmen her back, her hands reached for the I.V.

Dante closed his eyes and Carmen sighed.

“No dying now, Mr. Bizzarri…”, she whispered, “…Not until you give me Shane’s phone number”.

Carmen surprised herself. It was like those words had slipped out of her mouth almost automatically, freely and wildly, and her heart bumped into her chest, and her breath itched. She didn’t know why.