99 Ginger
99
Ginger
I managed to get my phone out of my gigantic bag, almost juggling it. I picked up as I was pushing aside the curtains of the old kitchen, done in a very charming vintage style. I looked out onto St. Ives Bay just as the unknown voice uttered something in Spanish, in loose phrases, a bit of which I was able to grasp:
“Es usted familiar de Rhys Baker ? ”
“Excuse me? Are you asking…”
“Espere un momento.”
“Hello?” I looked at the phone.
A second later, another voice came on. “Am I speaking with Ginger Davies?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
I had a bad feeling as I heard the woman draw in a breath, speaking English with a strong Spanish accent in a neutral but delicate tone…
“The patient had you in his phone as his emergency contact. He’s at Can Misses Hospital. He fell into an alcoholic coma.”
I gripped the wooden counter, feeling my legs shake. My heart… I felt him in my heart. It was beating strong, loud, erratically.
My heart…always making decisions for me.
Always betraying my efforts to forget.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s stable.”
“I’ll come as soon as I can.”