I was cracking up as I folded the letter back into the envelope and sealed it. Then I wrote Simon’s name across the front with a big girly heart as the dot over the i. Sleep came easier after that. In fact, I’d fallen into such a deep sleep that I overslept. Again.
“Mom.”
“Mom.”
“Mom!” Brendan shook my shoulder to wake me. I was in a fog and confused when my eyes flickered opened.
“What time is it?”
“It’s eight-thirty. I’m going to be late for school. Again.”
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed.
“That’ll be a quarter in the jar,” Brendan grumbled on his way out of my room.
“Go brush your teeth! Get dressed!” I barked after him as I ran to my bathroom.
I grabbed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth while I took my morning pee. Spitting out the paste, I cupped a handful of water into my mouth and used it to gargle as I reached for my hairbrush and did a half-ass job of tying my hair into a pony tail.
“You almost ready?” I yelled while pulling on scrubs. Thank God I wore a uniform.
“I’m hungry,” Brendan whined back from his room across the hall.
“I’ll pop you in a Toaster Strudel as soon as I’m finished dressing. You can eat it on the ride to school.”
After I was all dressed, I quickly ran around my bed, haphazardly making it. In my rush, I banged my knee into the open nightstand drawer, hitting it at that place that hurts so bad it took my breath away for a minute. “Damn it!” I slammed the drawer shut when I finally found my voice. Everything on top rattled around and then a pen fell to the floor. Screw it, I’ll get that later. I’d made it to almost my bedroom door when I remembered last night. The pen must’ve reminded me of the letter. Where the hell did I put that thing?
I must have fallen asleep with it in my hands. Searching, I ripped apart the bed in a fury. Panic set in when I couldn’t find it. I dropped to my knees, looked under the bed, and then opened the nightstand drawer and ripped everything out of it looking. I even went around to the other nightstand, which I was certain I hadn’t opened in at least a year, and tore out the contents of that one, too. No letter. A sinking sensation hit my stomach.
“Brendan?” I ran to my son’s room. He was putting on his backpack.
“Did you happen to see a letter in my room this morning?”
“You mean the one to Simon?”
My eyes went wide. “Yes, the one that said Simon on the outside of it.”
“It was on your floor the first time I came in to wake you up. You were really out cold.”
“Where did you put it?”
Unaware he’d done anything wrong, Brendan shrugged. “I gave it to Simon for you.”
Maybe he hadn’t read it.
Simon’s car was already gone by the time I caught my breath enough to be able to leave my room. I told Brendan that I’d forgotten something in the house and instructed him to get in the car and buckle himself in while I went back inside and snuck into Simon’s room. His room was pretty neat. A quick scan found no evidence of the envelope—neither read nor unread—so I walked over to his desk that was in the corner. He had a laptop, a notepad—which had paper frayed at the top from where he’d ripped out pages—a few pens, and a stack of medical books. No letter. It felt like I was violating his privacy when I opened the drawers, but there was no time for guilt. There was also no letter.
Looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming, I went to the first of his bedside tables and slipped it open. A large stash of condoms greeted me. Trojan Magnum XL. I stared at the box. Extra large? Oh, my God. My mind was about to start fantasizing when I was supposed to be on a search and rescue mission. I shook my head. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Bridget?” I grumbled. Lifting the condom box to check underneath, I found no letter—lube, Men’s Health, some keys, and a thick envelope of papers that were from an attorney—but no damn letter. I attempted to put everything back in the rightful place I’d found them, but I was getting more and more freaked out by the moment, and my hands were shaking.
The room was pretty sparse of personal belongings, and there weren’t many other places to look, except the other nightstand. Walking around to the other side of the bed, I took a deep breath and opened the drawer, praying it was there. I almost cried from relief when I saw the envelope. Until I picked it up and realized the envelope had been opened. And the letter that I’d tucked inside…was gone.
The emergency room was a madhouse. Thank God. I’d been successful at avoiding Simon almost the entire day. Every time I saw him walking in the direction of the nurses’ station, I’d bolt the other way. When he’d walked into the front entrance of the cafeteria while I was getting coffee, I walked out the back door—effectively stealing my morning coffee. Tomorrow I’d have to pay double. But I’d succeeded in not coming face to face with the man for the first six hours of my shift. Until Mrs. Piedmont came in. I’d taken her vitals and called up to the maternity ward to ask that Dr. Evans come down to examine her. But instead, Dr. Hogue walked into the room.