Blue Roses(34)
The call is coming from the hospital.
My blood runs cold, and I’m awake.
“Hello?”
“Don’t panic,” says the female voice on the line.
“Megan? Rory?”
“I’m a nurse,” she says. “Are you Tina?”
“Yes.” I hold my hand over my chest to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest. “This is Tina. And I’m in a panic. Tell me what’s going on, or you’d better send an ambulance over for me.”
I can hear people laughing in the background, and a man’s voice. In a flash, I know it’s Luca.
“Listen, it’s not an emergency,” she says.
“Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“Ma’am, do you have a vehicle that’s not a motorbike? Would you be able to come and pick up Mr. Luca Lowell?”
The phone slips right out of my hand. My palms are so moist with sweat, my phone slipped out like a bar of soap.
I pick up the phone again. She’s reciting the address, but I know the way to this hospital. I tell her I’m on my way, and I grab my keys and jog out to the car.
My mind is blank on the drive over. I’m locked down, emotionally. In survival mode.
I’m pulling into the parking lot for the hospital when I realize I’m wearing thin cotton pants, a tank top, and no bra. At least I’m wearing shoes. Two completely different shoes.
I sit for a moment in the parking spot, thinking about returning home for a jacket and matching shoes.
I check the time. It’s three o’clock in the morning.
To hell with it. Anyone awake at three in the morning doesn’t have the right to be offended by my appearance.
I walk into the hospital and check in at Emergency. They’ve changed the flooring, and painted the walls a different color. The same giant mural of ducks flying over a lake is still on the main wall.
A nurse comes to bring me to Luca. She keeps sneaking peeks over at me, pressing her lips tightly to keep from laughing.
We reach a door, and she pauses for a minute.
She looks up at me and says, “He’s a lively one.”
“Was anyone else hurt?” I ask.
She gives me a puzzled look.
“It was a motorbike accident, right?”
She shakes her head. “No. He was helping to take down the band stand, and someone in a truck backed into him.”
I turn and look at the door. He can’t be that bad if they called me to pick him up, but I’m still afraid to go inside.
“Don’t I know you?” the nurse asks. “You’re Jonathan’s girlfriend.”
I turn and look into her eyes. She’s an older lady, near retirement age. Her hair wasn’t white back then, so I didn’t recognize her at first.
She blinks rapidly. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. You have a name. It’s just that I remember people through their connection to the patients.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m proud to be Jonathan’s girlfriend. I’ll always be his girlfriend. And he really liked you, Doreen.”
She looks wistfully at the door. “You’re a lucky girl to find love twice. Now get in there and take that guy home before we decide to keep him.”
I give Doreen a hug and step into Luca’s room.
“Teenie!” He’s sitting up on a bed, holding his arms out for a hug. He looks fine, except for a fresh cast on his left foot. He’s wearing the same shirt I saw him in earlier tonight, and the bottom of his jeans have been cut away on the cast side.
“Someone hit you with a truck?”
“Didn’t hurt at all,” he says, his words slurring. “Would you like a pill? I have some.”
“I’m good, thanks. I’m just here to give you a ride home.”
He eases himself off the bed and grabs a pair of crutches. With a big grin on his face, he makes his way over to me.
“Where’s your friend?” I ask.
“You’re my friend. And your sister is my friend. But you’re my favorite one. We’re going to get married. Did you know that?”
“You are high.”
His blue eyes are unfocused as he looks around wildly. “Don’t tell the nurses,” he whispers.
I look around the room behind him. “Do you have all your stuff?”
He reaches out and squeezes my breast.
“Honk,” he says.
“Very mature.”
He squeezes the other one. “Honk.”
I turn and hold open the door, waving him ahead of me.
We get all the way out to my car, where he tries to take my keys.
“I’m driving,” he says. “Lemme drive.”
I calmly steer him around to the passenger side.
“If you’re a good passenger, we can switch drivers halfway,” I tell him.