59. Brendan
Chapter Fifty-Nine
brENDAN
L egs: under the hospital blanket, antsy. Tubes: sprawled out my arms. Wound: itching like hell.
A male nurse walks into my room, answering my call on the intercom, in person. “You need something?”
Great, a guy…he’ll get what I’m going through. “Hey. Yeah, man, I’m Brendan. Maybe you can help me. It’s a woman thing. Have you seen a tall, gorgeous brunette pacing around outside my room, or in the hallway somewhere? Maybe on her phone?”
His brain searches for such a woman and the light changes in his eyes as he remembers. He snaps. “I think she left.”
“Oh.”
His eyebrows go up a notch, “Seemed pretty upset.”
Exhaling, I shift in the bed, wondering how bad this situation really is. It can’t be good. Rebecca knows we’re not exclusive, but if I saw her on another guy, riding him while I was visiting her in the hospital… I would lose my fucking shit. I’d probably pummel the guy. That’s the thing about sleeping with someone for years, they create and deepen a bond no matter how casual you try to keep things.
I don’t want to hurt Rebecca. I wasn’t thinking.
Something about Annie makes my brain twist and forget other people exist. Even if they’re in the same room with us. Like it all just disappears – every person, every stress, every problem – gone. Every wound… healed.
Frustrated, I ask him, “She was upset, huh?”
He nods, his hands subconsciously rubbing together. “Yeah. Looked like it.”
I jerk my chin in the direction of his hands. “You’ve got some ink there.”
His eyes fall to the letters tattooed on each of his fingers. S.T.A.Y F.R.E.E. His thumbs are blank.
“Yeah, I was in a gang when I was a kid. Changed my ways, though.” He says this like it’s something he’s said a million times. It’s almost robotic, but there’s a hint of something else behind it.
“That’s cool.” I don’t say it, but I’m thinking it must have been something for the hospital to accept him doing this job with those fingers, and the wings on the back of one wrist, spreading out from the sleeve of a long-sleeved shirt he wears under blue scrubs. I bet those arms of his are covered, the angel wing poking out is probably just the beginning.
He can tell I’m not judging him, so he offers, like he can read my mind, “The hospital does a lot of work with outreach and I did really well in the program.”
“A.A?” I ask.
He gives me a lopsided smile and shakes his head. “Nah. Nursing program, man. But I’m in Al-Anon, so that’s pretty funny.”
“Ah. Wait. Is that the same thing?”
“Nah. Al-Anon is for family and friends of Alcoholics. It’s a different program. But I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about the nursing program.”
“Right.” I nod, getting it. “Al-Anon. I didn’t know that existed.”
He shrugs. “We don’t publicize. It’s just for people who want it. When you need it, you find it.” He opens the door to leave. “I’ll let you know if your lady friend comes back.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” As he leaves, I call out, before I even know I’ve made the decision to do what I’m about to do. “Oh, hey! Wait!”
He opens the door wider. “Yeah? You need some water?”
My brows rise. “If you’ve got any scotch, that’d be good.” He grins. “I’ll take that as a no. I was gonna ask, what room is Annie O’Brien in?”
His eyebrows cross up and he looks away to think about it. Then he glances sideways at me with a different, knowing look in his eyes as he’s putting two and two together. “You’ve got two girls fighting over you? Is that why Beverly Hills ran away with her face all like this?” He does his best impression of Rebecca and it is hilarious.
Trying hard not to laugh at her, I say, “They’re not fighting over me, but there are two women, yes. So, can you check on what room Annie’s in?”
With the hand that says, F.R.E.E. he jogs his thumb to the side. “She’s just up the hall.” Covering his mouth, he says on a laugh, as he realizes the full scope of the pile of shit I’m in. “Oh man. Your girl is just up the hall? That’s a God-shot right there.”
I don’t bother to correct him that she’s not my girl, because… I don’t want to. Which is unsettling. “God-shot?”
He turns so that his body holds the door open. He likes to talk with his hands and he needs them to tell me, “A God-shot is what we say in Al-Anon. It’s when a power greater than ourselves does something that shows us where we’re supposed to be going. And I don’t know you, man, but you’ve got one girl put right here and another running away… you should look at that.” His eyebrows go up and his hands fall to his sides as he pushes himself out of the room with his back and lets the door close on its own.
“Wait!!” I yell through the door. I shove the blanket off me as he pops his head in and looks at me. “Can you help me out of this bed?”
He grins and comes back in the room. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about!” He unplugs me from the heart monitor, and wraps the IV cord around the pole like Annie’s had been. “You want some socks?”
I shoot him a look. “Give me a fuckin’ break, would ya?”
He laughs, his shoulders shaking with a likable child-like quality. “Sorry. Part of the job.”
“Well, cut it out.”
“Then I won’t offer you my help.” He stands back and throws his hands up like he’s letting loose the collar.
“What’s your name?”
“Oscar.”
“I like you, Oscar.” He reaches out to grab the door as I make baby steps to it. “You’d think I got shot in the leg with how I’m walking. But other than to the bathroom, this is the first time I’ve ventured out after the surgery.”
He watches me, ready to help if I need it, his eyes and body tensely alert now. “How’s it feel?”
“Weird. But good. Funny what we’ll do to see a woman.”
He laughs, his whole body shaking with the sound as we walk out into the corridor, heading to the left. “Don’t I know it!”