I was still dragging Brian's imaginary penis on my imaginary leash as I got to the front desk. A haggard young girl was bustling around waiting on three people at once. My butt started to vibrate and I shuffled from foot to foot.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes," I said in my most polite voice. "I'm here with my friend Brian Littrell and he's ready to sign himself out."
The girl sighed, picking up stack after stack of folders. "Okay...one minute."
"You."
Her voice sent chills up and down my spine. I whirled around. Nurse Ribbit was glaring at me, her eyes practically bugging out of her head.
"You still work here?" I asked increduously. "After what you did to my friends?"
"They're better off aren't they?" she asked coldly. I snorted.
"Dude, they went through hell. I don't know what kinda witchy-witchy-voo-dooey you're playing with but--"
"I heard Becky's pregnant," she interrupted. My eyes narrowed.
"If you curse my baby I'll, I'll---" for some reason the power of Howie compelled me. "I'll keel you."
Nurse Nightmare smiled and I almost barfed. She had the ugliest smile ever. It was almost better when she was scowling. It suited her more.
"I overheard you and your friend talking. You left her alone? Not a very supportive husband." She glanced at my wedding band. I rubbed it self-consciously along the side of my shirt. It still felt foreign on my finger.
"Listen, I'm just picking up my friend and we're leaving. In fact, you'll never see us in this hospital again. I don't mind a nice drive."
"I knew you were trouble when you were laying in ICU," Nurse Toad said. I was pretty sure she wasn't listening to a word I said. "Yet Becky had to save you. Now look. She's married to a pig who doesn't understand everything women go through."
"How would you know what women go through?" I responded. "I'm pretty sure you've never been one."
I swear to God at that moment lightning almost struck me dead. I felt like a million volts of electricity flew from her eyes straight into my chest. Her nostrils flared, more impressive than Brian's ever could. Then she smiled again.
"You'll be sorry you said that," she said. She turned and marched away.
When I was sure I wasn't going to piss my pants, I turned my head from side to side and mocked her. "You'll be sorry you said that," I said in a croaky voice.
"Here's Mr. Littrell's papers," the nurse said from behind me. I swiveled around and grabbed them. "Thanks."
Twenty minutes later, Bri and I were headed to our cars. We had performed an impressive show with the wheelchair before the attendant had taken it from us. We stopped in front of Bri's SUV.
"Well, thanks again," he said. I nodded. I leaned my head back against his car and closed my eyes.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said. "I'm just suddenly really tired. With all that barf...I can't sleep with the barf, man."
"If I know Becky, you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight anyhow," Bri said. My eyes opened barely. I was really tired. An idea hit me.
"Can I...maybe...get a ride to your apartment? I could sleep a couple hours. You could bring me back here for my car and then at least I won't be sleep deprived while I get bitched at."
Bri shook his head. "No way. I don't want to be an accomplice."
"But, but...I'm really tired," I said. It was the truth. All of a sudden I just wanted to curl up on the hard cement and sleep for a million years. "Just for a couple hours. Pwwweeeassse?"
Bri sighed. He jingled his keys. "Fine."
I smiled. "Thanks," I said happily. I clumsily walked around to the passenger side door.
Just a little nap. That was all I needed.
"Tired. So freaking tired." Nick stumbled through my apartment door and I sighed. How had him coming to pick me up at the hospital turned into me giving him a ride to my place to take a nap? Sometimes, I swear Nick is completely unaware of anything going on outside of his own three feet of personal space.
I watched as he zombied along to the living room and fell over the arm of the couch, pulling at the blanket that hung over the back of it onto himself and covering up his head. I rolled my eyes and went to the kitchen and chucked my keys onto the counter. They clanged as they hit a glass cookie jar. The sound of the jar made my tummy rumble, so I opened it and peeked inside. Empty. I sighed and turned to the fridge. Now I was just hungry.
I was rummaging around when the phone rang. I reached up absently and pulled it to my ear. "Hallo?" I asked, pushing aside a milk carton to discover a bowl of Unidentified Refridgerated Object behind it. I scowled.
"Brian?!" It was Leighanne. She sounded panicked. "Brian what the hell happened? What's the matter?"
"What?"
"The Los Angeles General Hospital just called me to tell me that you left your Wildcats hat there," she said.
Crap, I had put Leighanne's phone number instead of my own, hadn't I? I rubbed my chin and closed the fridge, the URI having wasted my appetite (yet I left it in there instead of taking it out...) and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. "I'm fine honey," I answered.
"What happened? Why were you at the hospital?"
"I had a little bit of chest pains, from stress, that's all." I tried to keep my voice level and calm. "Seriously, just anxiety. That's all. They gave me some pills..."
"Who took you? Are you okay? Who's there with you?"
I drove myself sounded like such the wrong answer, so I decided to avoid question 1 and allow her to draw her own connections by answering number 3. "Nick's here, no worries."
"Nick?" Leighanne asked.
"Yeah," I said, "I called him and he --"
"He ditched Becky," she said, her voice flat. "Yeah I know all about that."
"How do you --"
"Becky called me in tears because Nick abandoned her," Leighanne said, "If you'd ever done that when I was pregnant..."
My cheeks pinkened, remembering Nick's imaginary penis dog and I said, "I know, I know... Trust me, I told him that..."
Leighanne sighed. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm positive," I answered.
"I worry about you," Leighanne was saying, "Especially when we're so far apart and --" I lost track of what Leighanne was saying because I heard a door slam somewhere in the apartment. I sat up an inched towards the door to the kitchen. It didn't look like Nick had moved from the sofa. I glanced around the room. No signs of life. I inched into the dining room further, as Leighanne continued talking. "...knowing where you are, and being able to take care of you..."
"Uh huh," I agreed absently.
The apartment suddenly seemed eerie. I glanced at the front door, and realized I hadn't locked it on our way in. I swallowed, wondering: had someone broken into the apartment?
"Honey, I gotta go," I said quietly.
"What? Brian? What's wrong?"
"I'll tell you later," I answered and I hung up the phone abruptly.
Grabbing a dirty coffee mug from the sink, I clutched it by the handle and raised it over my head. What exactly I thought a coffee mug would do me for protection, I'm not entirely sure, but I moved stealthly towards the hall, where the door slamming had come from, armed with my ceramic weapon.
Once I reached the hall, I heard the unmistakable sounds of -- of wretching?
I pushed opened the bathroom door and found a girl. A girl with long blonde hair, laying on the toilet bowl mat, her face buried in the toilet, puking her guts out. The girl's legs were sprawled, her feet covered in grotesquely dirty socks, her hair hanging around her like a curtain as she shuddered with heaves of puke. I jumped back in surprise, the mug dropping from my hand and shattering at my feet, chunks of ceramic going every which way. She turned and looked up at me with watery eyes at the sound of the shattering mug.
"Brian?" she asked.
I stared at her, my heart slamming in my chest.
"I think I have a problem," she groaned.
