that she thought I actually believed Kona loved Dateline, which was crazy. She preferred 20/20.
“Feel free to leave that whip-smart humor home when you got out with Carter,” she advised. “It might increase your chances of getting laid again before you die. Now when is good for you?”
“Can I have some time to think about it?”
She eyed me for a few moments, and I had a feeling my reading on the bullshit meter was quite odiferous. “Tonight,” she said definitively.
Someone wearing cat scrubs shouldn’t be so threatening. And yet….
“I don’t think—”
“Just a quick bite and a drink at Riptide,” she insisted. “You go there all the time anyway.”
I grimaced, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. “And it won’t be a long, drawn-out thing?”
“I promise.”
I agreed with a sigh. “Fine. Go ahead and set it up.”
“Fantastic. And I’m glad you agreed because your love life is just sad.” She gave the calico a scritch near his ears. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Pickles?”
I thought it was only fair when he urinated on her a little bit. Bailey squealed as she lifted him off her lap gingerly. “He has a bladder problem,” I reminded her. After glancing around the floor, she decided to put him on her desk, mostly because he and Kona didn’t get along all that well. “It’s not his fault.”
“I know that,” she said, dabbing at her scrubs futilely. Mr. Pickles sauntered off, making sure to knock her pen and almost empty coffee cup off the desk first. Almost empty. Coffee splattered across her shoes and she groaned. “That damned cat.”
My love life officially forgotten, she marched off toward the restroom. I wisely kept my yap buttoned, but I sent Mr. Pickles a wink. He might not have a great bladder, but there wasn’t a thing wrong with his timing.
Chapter 4
Journey
The right side of room 402 was occupied by a sleeping patient who didn’t stir as I entered. I walked past him quietly and ducked behind the curtain on the far side. The bed was empty, but there was still an untouched lunch tray on the bedside table. The TV was on mute, with a news show on the screen.
I checked my watch, only to find it was slightly after ten o’clock in the morning. Maybe they’d taken my father for X-rays or something. Well, it wasn’t like I had anyplace pressing to be. I sat in the visitor’s chair to wait.
I didn’t particularly care for hospitals. The last time I was in this one, it was because my mother had died. The mind worked in mysterious ways sometimes. I couldn’t remember what I’d had for breakfast, but I could recall every single detail of that night. The sights. The smells. The concerned face of the doctor and his smiley face tie.
My brain had recorded the event for posterity without even checking with me. Look, kid, I know you’re not going to want to remember any of this. You’re gonna try to block this out, just so you’ll be okay. But don’t worry, I’ll take good notes. I’m gonna make sure you’re able to relive it every second… of every day… until the day you die. Cool? Cool.
I’d been a teenager then, and I’d fallen asleep after a marathon gaming session that required a lot of Red Bull and Cheetos. I hadn’t known it was my last day as a carefree kid, who spent six hours trying to beat some meaningless video game.
The ringing doorbell so late at night had woken us all up. With uncanny timing, my first thought upon waking was that I hadn’t heard my mother come home. She and my aunt had gone out for drinks—their monthly girls’ night. My second thought, as I glanced at the clock blearily, was that it was two in the morning. My third and final thought before I’d stumbled out of bed was, Oh shit. This can’t be good.
I stood at the top of the stairs, my younger brothers practically glued to my back. John had been the next oldest behind me at eight, and he hushed the other two as we listened. The shock came first. Numbness followed shortly after. An impatient driver had gone around a tractor trailer in a curve and met her head-on. She never saw it coming.
Neither did we.
“You need to come to the hospital now.”
“Now?” My father had questioned, a strange hitch in his voice. It wasn’t a real question. He was already groping his pockets for his keys. It was