Page 102 of The Man I Hate

“What?” she asked, not bothering to look up from her typing. “Getting the masks? I know, they’re impossible to find. It’s crazy you found them, huh?”

“No, not that,” I replied.

She paused. “What, then?”

I pointed at her, and then at me. “This. Us.”

She looked up. “What about it? Us? Whatever.”

“It’s just. I don’t know.” I rested my chin against my clasped hands. “It’s easy.”

“Oh.” She smiled and then went right back to typing. “Yeah, it’s good stuff, that’s for sure.”

I didn’t know if it was Anna or the disease that opened my eyes, but they were open wider than they ever had been. The clarity of my vision allowed me to see a future with her that I never would have guessed could exist.

I hoped from deep within the limits of my soul that my father could be a part of it, also.

Anna

A member of the news crew had a microphone on an aluminum pole that was six feet long. With his arm extended, the device was eight feet from where he stood. He positioned it beneath Braxton’s chin.

We were at Scripps Mercy Hospital in San Diego, in the parking lot just beside the entrance. The moving van was parked at Braxton’s side, and the news reporter had an open case of N95 masks at her feet.

Wearing his favorite Tom Ford suit, his Breitling watch, and a homemade mask, Braxton leaned forward slightly. His salt-and-pepper beard was trimmed neatly, and his hair was freshly cut by yours truly.

“I can’t say enough to accurately express my appreciation for what the medical workers are doing in an effort to combat this disease,” Braxton said into the fur-covered device. “I felt this gesture would allow them to safely continue their quest to provide care to those who are suffering.”

The bubbly brunette reporter raised a small cardboard box of masks so the second cameraman could get it in the picture. “The filter in the N95 mask is made of thousands of nonwoven fibers, each of which is smaller than a human hair,” she explained through her cotton mask. “It is that complex filtration system that provides peace of mind to the many healthcare workers who are devoted to caring for those who are struggling to survive this deadly disease.”

She lowered the box and looked at Braxton. “It’s our understanding that you father is here? In Mercy?”

“He is.”

“Infected with COVID-19?”

“That is correct.”

“Any word on his expected recovery?”

“He’s on a ventilator,” Braxton replied. “He’s stable. That’s really all we know.”

“So many lives are dependent upon the ventilators, which are also in short supply,” she said. “This brings us to another chapter in this book of selfless acts. You’ve donated 2 ventilators to this facility as well?”

“I have,” Braxton replied. “They’re in high demand and in short supply.”

The reporter faced the second camera. “Shy of their capacity in the ICU, Mercy was forced to turn away COVID-19 patients with critical respiratory issues, as their stock of ventilators was being utilized by men and women who were fighting respiratory failure. There’s no doubt that the ventilators donated will save many lives throughout this pandemic, which is only getting started here in San Diego County.” She turned to Braxton. “It’s our further understanding that you didn’t assemble this donation by yourself. What can you share about how this came together?”

“I couldn’t have done any of this without the help of a few generous and very thoughtful people,” Braxton replied.

“Can you name them?” she asked.

“I can,” Braxton said. “Ellen DeGeneres, Kevin Hart, and Shawn Mendez each made unnamed contributions, but none of this could have been done without Anna Wilson. When I was at an impasse in negotiations, it was her idea to include celebrity endorsements. Those endorsements sealed the deal.”

My heart swelled so much I could barely breathe. Then, my face went flush.

“We’re familiar with the first three names,” the reported said. “But the third? Is she new on the Hollywood scene?”

Braxton extended his right arm toward me. “Anna?”