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“We don’t have insurance, okay?” I hear myself saying loudly, my voice shaking as I wish Mark were here.
I wish dad had just paid his damned insurance like everybody else instead of trying to be a rebel about it all.
The nurse creases a smile, a look she must give folks all the time. “It’s alright, Evelyn, I didn’t realize. We can talk about options once your dad’s feeling better,” she says calmly.
“I’ll come see you once he’s out of surgery…” she adds, giving me the ‘who the hell doesn’t have insurance in this day and age?’ face.
“Thanks,” I whisper hoarsely, feeling suddenly tired again, wishing I had a blanket to curl up into on this tiny couch.
Maybe more than just coffee and a magazine rack to distract me too.
I know what I need.
I want Mark. I need him already.
Eventually, I get my wish. With too much coffee having the opposite effect on me, I must flake out eventually.
The feeling of a blanket being pulled over me makes me half-open my eyes dreamily.
It’s Mark, and the brightness of the room from the overhead lights that causes me to registers it’s nighttime outside.
I try to sit up, want to be awake for him, but another part of me wants to sleep forever, have him sit on the couch and watch over me like I know he’s been doing for who knows how long.
Reading my mood, his huge hand rests on my arm and he tells me to rest.
“You’re dad’s gonna be fine,” he tells me, giving a smile as I feel that hand wanting to go places other than my arm.
I’m suddenly wide awake, but eager to do as I’m told as well. Something about Mark’s authority, his complete command of every moment it feels like.
I’d gladly do anything he told me to do. Sleeping and resting with him watching over me? I can handle that.
After a while, I must doze off again, I’m woken by the sounds of another voice wanting to speak with Mark in the hall.
I feel him get up from the couch and I half-open my eyes, noticing him leaving the door ajar so he can still see me while he talks to who I assume is his boss.
If he even has a boss.
“…Patient’s doing well in recovery. Great job Doctor… What I’d like to know is why are you still here, and why are you fawning over your patient’s daughter?” The voice says, keeping it down but almost hissing the last part.
Mark’s strong, deep voice is quick to reply and I catch his eyes for a second. They flash with amusement mixed with annoyance.
“Always flattering to have your praise, John,” he says. “I’m staying back to make sure my patient is in the clear, his bloodwork isn’t great still. I’d like to be here-” he tries to add in but is cut off.
“Your patient doesn’t even have insurance,” the voice hisses again, making my chest ache as it reminds me of all that is happening.
“…I’m running a hospital, Mark. Not a god damned hotel with free fucking cardiac surgery. You’re scheduled to be on a plane at nine a.m. and I’d appreciate it if you went home and got some sleep before you left. Your vacation, remember? I meant what I said, Mark. You need a break, and I think after today maybe you need one more than ever.”
I watch Mark move closer to the door, creasing his mouth as he looks into my eyes and pulls the door closed gently.
I’m dying to know what else he has to say, and who the hell is this other guy anyway?
But Mark’s doing things his way and he doesn’t want me hearing any more talk about insurance or hospital bills, I can tell.
It doesn’t stop me from worrying though. If anything, I feel worse now than before about not being able to afford any of this.
And what’s all this about Mark’s forced vacation?
I just met him, I can’t have him going anywhere. I need him here. And he needs me.
Doesn’t he?
I’ve never been big in the self-confidence stakes, and after today I’m probably more confused than ever.
I know there’s something between Mark and me, I can feel it. But is he really just gonna leave on vacation once he can see my dad’s going to be alright?
He said he’d take care of everything, and that everything was gonna be fine.
Suddenly, in my mind, it doesn’t seem fine.
I feel sick. I want to go home.
I want all this to make sense instead of scaring me like it is right now.
I want that horrible hissing man out there to just go away, to leave Mark and me alone so I can ask him what’s going to happen.
After a long wait, there are no more voices from outside and no Mark either.
Finally, I get up and open the door.
