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“I look forward to learning about them then,” he said. And with that, he was out of the room, giving me a moment to breathe.
My head still hurt and the whole scenario was whirling all about. The mysterious stranger with an accent was going to be staying for the summer. And he wanted to help me out in my recovery because he felt bad. It felt a little too good to be true but also odd. I was wary, for sure. And who even knew if he would stick to his word. Maybe now that he knew I was going to be okay, he was just using the tea thing as an escape. Come to think of it, I realized, I hadn’t even asked his name. What was his name? Not a good sign. If he was staying, he would’ve told me his name.
But before I could consider it anymore, the quietude of my solitude was destroyed. They didn’t even bother to knock, just exploded into the room.
“Why didn’t you call me?” my mother shrieked, tears falling.
“Kid, what happened?” my dad asked quietly—or maybe just quietly compared to my mother’s volume. Nonetheless, I could see the panic on his face.
And then, the third body came into the room. Dorothy.
“I wanted to sneak in mimosas, but they said we didn’t have time,” she whispered.
I leaned back on my pillow then, knowing there weren’t enough mimosas in the world for me to find peace again. It was nice while it lasted, I told myself as my mother went into overdrive.
Chapter Seven
The tornado of family whirled deeper into my room, my mother like a prowling panther at the edge of my bed. My father stood back in the corner, hands in his pockets, as if the entire emotional situation made him uncomfortable. And I noticed Dorothy beside him, waving at me with a smile, pointing to a flask sticking out of her bag.
“I do not understand why I had to find out my only daughter was in the hospital from a gossip queen at the hotel. How long have you been here? Why didn’t you call me? Do you know how worried I was? Are you okay? My gosh, are you okay?”
The questions flew from her mouth, somehow synced with her prowling steps in a way that was eerie. My head throbbed.
“Mom, please slow down. My head hurts already.” At that, she rushed to my bedside, her hand finding my forehead like she did as a child. I softened as I noted the true worry on her face.
“I’m sorry, Mom. It happened so fast. I just woke up from it all. I’m okay. Just tired.”
“How did this happen?” she asked. My father still stood in the corner, hands in his pockets. Hospitals made him nervous. I could understand that. Dorothy came closer, patting my hand.
“It’s a long story. But more importantly, how did you hear about it?” Sudden fears of Tino’s customers filming me being hauled out not-so-glamorously all over social media plagued my exhausted mind.
“Someone checking into the hotel came from Tino’s. Said that an ambulance showed up for the staff. When you didn’t answer your phone, I called the restaurant, and Tino told me.”
“And I had already knocked on their door anyway, worried because you hadn’t shown up for our usual after-work, um, tea,” Dorothy said, winking. I smiled at her as she patted my hand.
“Well, no need to worry. I’m going to be fine,” I lied. Although I was fairly sure my banged-up body and the unconvincing look on my face said otherwise.
