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The Nanny is the property of Fran Drescher and a great many people that I would love to know, but don't. This is just a story written for the fun of it, and it is not meant to infringe on any rights held by the people mentioned above. Please don't sue me, I am just a fan who loves this show. I couldn't even afford the lawyer.
Max held her hand with all his spirit going into her, but her hand was cold, numb and limp, as if she couldn't feel his tender touch. As they hit the doors to the emergency room, he let go of her hand. It was a reluctant, instinctive response. Of course, it was what had to be done and he would have been told to leave anyway, so it was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, Max had left someone else in this very hospital's care and he had only been able to say goodbye.
Max walked heavily to the waiting room and sat down. The children and Niles were stuck at the house due to the bloody snow storm that had caused this mess. As for the driver, they were still bandaging him up, so Max was left alone in the small waiting room with only his own thoughts for company. This room seemed surreal to him, each moment an eternity of pain, pain so deep it was blinding to his eyes and numbing to his skin. He closed his eyes, not that it mattered, and was about to dive into a deep pit of unconscious memories that were sure to plunge him further into depression, when a hand touched his hand.
"What?" Max jerked up straight and looked to his left. There, sitting next to him on this pathetic excuse for a green couch, was a young woman. She looked in her late thirties, with long, shiny blond hair, cream-colored skin and a sweet smile. Her clothes were plain, but nice: a white skirt falling just past her knees and a blue silk blouse. However, what caught Max's attention was her amazing eyes: they were clear and pure, showing no signs of problems in daily life, as if she didn't have a worry in the world. They were crystal blue, just like a cloudless sky, and seemed to carry nothing with them but the sweet spark of life.
"I didn't mean to frighten you. I just saw how upset and alone you looked and thought I might be able to help". She spoke like an angel, with a gentle lilt that caught him off-guard and yet seemed to fit her face. Max broke away from her eyes, as if breaking from a trance, by looking down a moment.
"Well, I suppose I ought to speak to someone. What's your name?" he asked sociably, while all this time his mind was on fire: 'Why are you talking to this girl? What in the world has she done to relax you? Why did your blood pressure just come down to normal?' He decided it was better to talk to someone than sink into the furious sorrow which was the only alternative, even if it felt strange.
"I would rather we don't give our names; let's just keep each other strangers in a very troubling situation." She said this so convincingly and so caringly that it made him smile.
"Sounds like a line I used once in a bar." Max thought how odd this girl was in her caring nature.
"I doubt you needed lines; I bet you charmed many girls with those eyes," she said, looking into his tired, worried, blood-shot eyes that seemed sad to her. "Back to your troubles, what are you here for?"
How pleasant and friendly she was, and yet so innocent in her sudden appearance in his life. All he could think of was his love in the operating room, but talking to this woman was better than focusing on his heartache, which was slowly eating him alive from the inside out, he reminded himself.
"I was in a car accident... a tractor-trailer hit my town car and..... a ...... close friend of mine is in surgery. I don't know if she will live, and I worry that I might lose her," Max said, feeling his words catch in his throat and tighten it to choke him. She rubbed his hand, going over every curve and wrinkle with tender carelessness.
"I saw you when you came in. She must mean more to you than anything". This girl seemed to be reading into him very intensely.
"I care for her very much.... I may even love her.... who am I kidding? I do love her," Max proclaimed quietly, even tired of his own denial.
"You seem to be used to losing people," she almost inquired, staring at her own hand as it fell away from his and laid on the evergreen cushion.
"One never gets used to losing people". Max sighed. "But yes, eight years I lost my wife in a similar accident." Suddenly, Max felt like walking away from this strange young woman, but something undetectable endeared him to her. He felt he could trust her. Max found that talking to her was not only a comfort, but comfortable and easy.
"Well then, you will understand why I'm here. I am waiting for my husband," she stated showing for the first time dark emotion in her eyes.
"What's wrong with him?" Max took her hand suddenly feeling like she might need as much reassurance as he did.
"Its his heart; it has been troubling him for several years and I don't know if we're in time or not." She looked down sadly, as Max put his arm around her.
"Its ok. I know how you feel, but all you can do is hope." Max was glad to be a comfort to her, but something suddenly caused a deep stabbing electric shock in his chest, which instructed him to back off. He did so by pulling his arm away and sinking back into the cushions.
"I sometimes wonder if my wife would want me to be in love with another woman," Max spoke almost to no one. She smiled and looked at him with a strange painful humor about her lips.
"My husband asked me that once. Although, when in such a situation, that we were in, I doubt he remembers. I told him, that he should be happy, if he could be," she spoke with an air of mysterious dreaminess.
"My wife was always saying things like that. I think her favorite saying was..." Max looked up to see a doctor coming towards them. He stood and walked to the doctor.
"Maxwell Sheffield?" the doctor asked.
"Yes.. how is Miss Fine?" Max inquired impatiently.
"She's going to be alright. She will be coming out of the emergency room in a minute or two and going up to a regular room, but she can be released today, or tomorrow," the doctor reassured him. Just then, Fran was wheeled out of surgery on a stretcher and Max ran to her.
"Fran can you hear me?" Max said frantically, happy to see her. Fran opened her eyes and smiled. She was still groggy from the anesthetic, but she knew that accent anywhere.
"Hi..." she whispered into his ear as he bent down and kissed her on the cheek.
"Hi.....I'm going to call the house and I'll be right up, ok," Max whispered to her.
"Ok..." Fran smiled wider and kissed him on the lips. The orderlies took her to the elevator where Max watched her until the doors shut. Then he turned back to the waiting room, but to his surprise the woman he had been talking to was gone. Max walked over to the couch and picked up a piece of paper, which was folded once, that was placed where she had been sitting. He opened it and read: 'There are miracles everywhere, you just have to look for them'. He suddenly couldn't stand. His heart nearly stopped beating and he felt tired. Through this horrid humor, he almost laughed for lose of words. The faded memories began to seep back into the fore-thought of his consciousness. And he sat there letting a tear or two escape his misty eyes onto the bitter-sweet sentiment on held ever so tenderly between his fingers. As everything sank in, it began to create an ironically sick feeling, almost an ache in his chest. 'I wish you well, my love'. Maxwell smiled to himself and stared out a window at the night sky, which was now clear and brilliant in its mystery.
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