Authors: Laurel Osterkamp
“He’s busy,” I lied. “In the middle of some very important meet-ings. So it’s going to be a while before he gets here.”
Her blue eyes widened to the size of saucers, and her mouth pursed slightly before she spoke. “Wow. They must be important meetings if he can’t even get away to pick up his girlfriend from the hospital.”
The words flew from my lips. “Yeah. He has one of those financial management jobs where millions of dollars can be made or lost in a single afternoon, like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman? It’s tough sometimes, loving someone so busy and powerful, but it’s worth the sacrifice.”
“Really?” The candy-striper crossed her arms and shifted her weight.
“Oh sure. I mean, in every other way, he’s perfect. He’s got the most caring, sweet nature. And he’s smart, and funny, he’s incredibly good looking, and he loves me. How can I complain?”
“Because you’re stuck at the hospital! I’d complain if my boyfriend made me wait like this.”
“Yeah, but...” I struggled to continue the lie. I could see the disdain in this young Paris Hilton look-alike’s eyes, which also happened to be large, blue, and perfect. They fit with everything else about her perfect appearance, and I hated her.
“I haven’t even called him!” I declared. “I don’t want to bother him, that’s all.”
“Oh, I see. That’s how it is.” She smiled a smug little smile, and walked away. Exactly what did she see, what did she mean, ‘that’s how it is’? I considered calling out to her, but I didn’t have the energy to make a scene. But when I saw her talking to another volunteer, looking my way, and laughing, I decided enough is enough.
So I strode over to the pay phone and called the person who was my last resort. Miraculously, his business card was the one other thing in my purse.
Chapter 25
Honest Abe’s Garage, Ethan speaking.” I resisted the urge to hang up as soon as I heard Ethan’s voice, and forced myself to speak. “Hi Ethan. It’s Faith.”
“Oh. Hi.” His voice sounded flat, but I didn’t let it bother me.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Fine.” Great. He was supposed to ask me how I was, and that was going to be my lead-in. But he didn’t, and nothing but silence passed over the telephone line. Then my words came out in a nervous rush.
“Um, look. I know you probably don’t need this right now, but I have a huge favor to ask. I hit my head this morning, hard, and I need someone to pick me up at the emergency room. I called my sister, but there’s no answer. You see, we were up all night because our neighbor took us hostage, so she’s sleeping off the trauma. And my other friend is away. So can you come get me?”
“Faith, I don’t have time for games. Tell me what you want.”
“Ethan, I’m serious!”
“You really are at the emergency room, and you were really held hostage?”
“Yes, I swear!”
He sighed. “So what is it that you want me to do? Come get you?”
“If you don’t mind. I would appreciate it!”
* * *
He agreed to come. When he arrived he was wearing an old pair of
Levis
, and a pale soft cotton shirt without any grease stains. Even though his hair was combed and his glasses were on, he did not look as if he came from an important business meeting. I told myself that it was no matter. He’s a guy, he’s cute, and he was here to pick me up. That was enough to prove something to that candy-striper. We were at the desk getting me released from the hospital. The nurse on duty was going through all of the instructions with us, and the candy-striper was unfortunately listening in.
“If you experience any nausea, sudden blindness, vision problems, or dizziness, come in at once. Do not sleep for more than two hours at a time for the next twenty-four hours.” She spoke to Ethan. “And you need to watch her for that amount of time. Please leave a number where you can be reached so that we can call to check in.”
“What?” Ethan turned to me. “I have to watch you for the next twenty-four hours? Why didn’t you say that when you called?”
“I forgot?”
“You forgot? It slipped your mind to mention that? Great. Thanks Faith. Thanks a hell of a lot!”
I wanted to die of embarrassment. So I channeled my emotions, telepathically willing that nosy little blond thing go away. But un-fortunately she had a mind of her own.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “What sort of a man are you? This is her time of need!”
Ethan regarded the candy-striper. “Excuse me?” His mouth opened to say something more, but his shock at being berated was evident.
“Never mind.” I said. “It’s fine. If you can’t watch me, take me home. Margaret is probably there, she’s just not answering the phone.”
“I can’t release you unless he promises to supervise you. It’s a legal matter,” said the nurse.
“Fine!” I exclaimed. “Can I talk to you for a second, over there?”
I asked Ethan this as I tugged him away from the desk. Once we were out of earshot, I continued on. “Look, I’m sorry. But nobody was answering their phone, they wouldn’t let me take a taxi, and I want to go home. I feel okay, so just drop me off and go back to work. Okay?”
Ethan’s cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were gleaming with irritation. He looked even more worked up than he had during our argument at my parents’. “I can’t drop you off! What if you go into a coma or something? Then I would be responsible. The last thing I need is your blood on my hands.”
“Okay. If I die, I promise I won’t blame you.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about.”
“What, is it the hospital? My family? Are you worried about getting sued?”
Ethan said nothing, instead he nodded his head in an upward motion, like he was acknowledging what I said, but wasn’t necessarily confirming it.
“Look,” I told him. “I will write a note, dated and signed, that says I refused your help, and you had no part in my death, were it to occur. All right?”
“Sure! Great! Everything is just perfect, Faith! Thanks so much!”
“Oh my God!” The voice of the candy-striper startled us both, not having been aware of her approach. “I don’t know why you stay with this bastard,” she exclaimed to me.
“Who the hell are you?” Ethan asked. His voice sounded like it’d been swallowed by death.
The
Paris
wannabe started waving her fingers and circling her head, imposing upon Ethan’s space. “My father runs this hospital! And he would not be happy, knowing that one of his patients is being dissed so bad by her own boyfriend!”
Ethan took a step back, stunned for a moment, the pale pink of his cheeks turning to a deeper red. “You make no sense!” he yelled at her, then grabbed my arm and dragged me up to the desk. “Give me the papers, I’ll sign them!” The nurse, intimidated by his intensity, silently pushed the papers towards him. With his right hand still tightly clutching my arm, Ethan signed the papers with his left. With his hand still grasping my arm, we left the waiting room.
On the way to his car he still had not let go of me, but I didn’t exactly mind. “So, are you left handed?” I asked.
“What?”
“I noticed you signed with your left hand. Are you a leftie?”
Ethan looked at me as if I had escaped from a mental hospital, rather than a regular one. “Yeah.”
“That’s so cool! I’ve heard that left-handed people tend to be more creative and intelligent, on the whole, then right-handed people.”
“Yeah, it’s really cool. Do you know how hard it is to find left-handed tools for cars?”
“You need special tools?”
He didn’t answer, but simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh,’ I replied. “I guess that makes sense. I remember how in grade school there were those special scissors for the left-handed kids. The handles were always coated with plastic, and I thought they looked more like adult scissors, so I was always jealous of the kids who got to use them. I even tried once, to cut with my left-hand, just so I could use the left-handed scissors, but that, obviously, was a disaster. I suppose we have to play with the ‘hand’ that we were dealt, huh?”
We arrived at Ethan’s car, and he opened the door for me to get in. I climbed into the passenger seat, then leaned over to unlock his side. He got in without a word, and started the car.
To prevent an awkward silence, I continued talking. “I suppose that’s how it always goes. The grass is always greener, right? The righties want to be special, like the lefties. And the lefties want to be like everyone else. It’s too bad. If we could all be satisfied with ourselves, I suppose the world would be a better place. Don’t you think?”
Silence. Ethan turned left at the stop-light. “Um, Ethan? If you want to get to my apartment then you needed to turn right. Sorry I didn’t say before, but I thought you knew.”
“We’re not going to your place. We’re going to mine.”
“Huh?”
“If I have to supervise you, then I want to do it at my place.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to! Margaret can...”
“Margaret didn’t sign the papers. I did. So I’m going to supervise you. Besides, I put down my number for where they should call.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did. It’s what good boyfriends do, right?” His voice was tight, as he stared intently ahead at the road.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make that girl think you were my boyfriend. I just...”
“You just wanted her to think I’m a bastard, right? Because that’s what you think of me.”
“I never said that!”
“You’ve hinted at it enough! All your jibes about how I treated Glenn...”
“It was none of my business. I’m sorry.”
“And you certainly didn’t wait long to criticize me about hunt-ing.”
“All I did was ask if you kill animals.”
“That’s not all you did. You’re afraid to say what you think, so you ask these questions as a form of indirect criticism.”
“You’re being way too sensitive.”
“Oh. Am I being too sensitive about seeing you go off with another guy two hours after we got together?”
“I can explain that...”
“Then you avoided me for the rest of the time you were up there...”
“I wasn’t avoiding you!”
“And you left without saying goodbye. Now the next time I hear from you, you tell me some story about being held hostage, and demand that I pick you up at the emergency room, where some insane candy-striper yells at me for being a bastard boyfriend. And I’m being too sensitive?”
“Yes! You have got it all wrong. And if you would let me explain, then you would know that.”
Ethan abruptly pulled the car to the side of the road. He turned the ignition off, and faced me. Suddenly the space between us felt very close. “Okay,” he said. “Explain.”
“Well...” How do I begin? “Okay, keep in mind, I know this sounds far-fetched, but I swear, it’s all true. First of all, that guy I went fishing with, I did that because my friend Carolyn’s estranged boyfriend Charles showed up.” Ethan’s face registered confusion, so I explain further. “Carolyn had made a date to go fishing with this guy, but regretted it later. But before she could break the date, her boyfriend, whom she wanted to get back with, showed up. So to cover for her, I pretended like it was me who had made the date with this guy. Then I couldn’t get out of it, as you overheard.”
“Okay,” Ethan said. “But you could have told me that once you got back.”
“I did look for you, but you never seemed to be around. Plus, I had a lot of work to do for my folks. I already flaked off the night before and that morning, so I needed to make it up to them. Besides, you were sort of distant right after, you know...”
I stammered, but Ethan knew what I meant. “I didn’t mean to be distant. I suppose my etiquette for after-sudden-intimate-encounters needs work.”
“Do you have them a lot? Sudden intimate encounters?”
“Not a lot,” he said. “Why do you think my etiquette is so bad?”
“Well,” I replied, “I don’t have them a lot either.”
Ethan’s reached out and brushed his finger briefly over my hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For... for it being so sudden. It probably would have been better to wait.”
I straightened up. Did that mean he regretted sleeping with me, or that he merely regretted doing it so soon? I couldn’t tell, but I decided to continue on rather than ask. “Anyway, after I got back to
Minneapolis
, things got crazy. First my ex-boyfriend showed up, telling me my best friend, who he left me for, is suicidal, and it’s up to me to do something about it. Then, later that evening, I’m taken hostage by this neighbor of mine, who wants to molest me, my sister, and my roommate.”
“What! You were serious about that?”
“Yes! He had been stalking us for weeks; that’s why I left you that crazy message. I didn’t know who was behind it all. But it was this guy who lives down the hall, and he used to date my roommate, until she left him for another woman, and he’s been insanely jealous ever since. So it was his form of revenge.”