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"No, I haven't been lucky in that department.No missus, either."
The driver slurped his soda."What have you been doing all this time, sir?"
"Good question."Jason was thirty-two years old and didn’t have a home, or a family of him own, nobody to carry on his legacy.Not even a woman to cuddle at night."Working, I guess."
"Well, you’re young yet, but there's more to life than work, if I do say so."
Jason finished his sandwich, washed it down with his putrid coffee, and put the wrapping into the empty cup.Was it possible that this Cockney cab driver knew more about happiness that an educated man like himself?
When they arrived at the precinct, Jason got out of the cab, tipped the driver well, and told him to buy flowers for his wife."I will, thank you, sir.The missus would like that, she would.”
Jason ran up the stairs to the brick building, opened the door, and headed straight to the police officer behind the front counter.
“How can I assist you today?”the pimply-faced young man asked.He looked like he couldn’t be much more than twenty.
“I need to fill out an accident report.”
“That will be down the hall, three doors on the left."
"Thank you."A few old men and one woman sat at the end of a row of chairs.They wore dirty clothes and hadn't seen a hairbrush or bar of soap for quite some time, Jason guessed.They sipped on complimentary coffee and picked at what was probably the police officers' leftover donuts.
At least they were out of the cold with a hot drink and a little food.The homeless problem was getting worse, and nobody was doing a thing about it.
Jason filled out the accident report in just a few minutes.Next, he phoned his insurance company and set up a time and place to meet.
The hospital hadn't called which was a sign that he might have the afternoon free.Being such a rare experience, he knew he'd better act on it quickly.First thing: he needed a car.Not that he drove much, but he liked the convenience of owning one.Paid more for parking than it was worth since he walked to work and put in twelve-hour days, but it was a luxury he could afford.
The words of the cab driver came to mind.There was more to life than work.On the other hand, his job as a surgeon was something he was meant to do.He imagined writing novels was like that for Steph.
He test drove a few vehicles and the afternoon passed quickly.He didn’t need anything flashy, just a loaded SUV that would hold the road well and be equipped with all the new toys and whistles.At last, he found exactly what he wanted, a brand new Audi Q8 in royal blue.
He drove home, took a quick shower and shave, before meeting with the insurance people.It was going on three and his stomach began to rumble.
Go home, or eat out?
Since he already had to meet the insurance agent, it was easy for him to pick up some Thai food and bring it home.He was on empty and needed rest.Last night and the busy day had taken its toll and his body begged for bed.He congratulated himself on blocking Stephanie from his thoughts.
It was dark when he opened his eyes, checked his cell phone, and slapped his head.What did that damn woman want now?
***
The resident doctorhad shown up to release Stephanie around ten in the morning.He read her charts and gave her the good news that she could go home.She'd called Henry promptly at nine to explain the circumstances, hoping he wouldn't dock her pay.She'd flipped through some outdated magazines as she waited, then paced the room for the next hour.Finally, after a long delay, the nurse came in with the discharge papers to sign.
She’d already dressed in the clothes from the night before.Her pants and red sweater were fine, but her beautiful white coat had blood stains from the cut on her temple.The scarf had been left behind.All she cared about was getting home to her small apartment, ordering Chinese, and taking a long nap.
Climbing the back stairs, she'd felt a little woozy, even bounced off one wall.She held onto the door and used her key, her knees beginning to buckle.The moment she stepped inside, she teeter-tottered then flopped on the bed face-down, careful to avoid wounded side.Her snoring woke her up a half hour later.
Since she didn't have a kitchen, she made do with the cupboard over a small sink, and the mini refrigerator that doubled as her nightstand.She had a counter with a hot plate and a microwave.She plugged the electric kettle in and listened to Frank singingMy Way,while making a ham sandwich and her tea.
Since her arrival in Harmony, she'd created a vision board with photos of the places she intended to see and numbered them in order, giving herself a clear direction.The dates were not included.She didn't want to plot out every detail; being spontaneous would be half the fun.
As she studied her "map" she wondered if hers and Jason's life had been spared for a reason.She already knew that his work as a healer was part of the big picture, but what about her reprieve?It might be a stretch, but could her writing be counted as a gift to the world?It touched people and gave them hope that they too might find happiness.She brought them to laughter and to tears, and yes, she might be nothing more than an entertainer, but her stories healed many a broken heart.
She ate at her computer desk and read through the last few chapters she'd written, editing as she went along, smiling by the time she'd finished.If it gave her spirits a lift, then it would do the same for her fans.
Steph yawned and stretched, then tossed her paper plate into the bin, turned down the covers, and slid into bed.She was fast asleep before she could get past ten plump sheep jumping over fences.
The next time she opened her eyes and glanced at her phone it was almost six.She climbed out of bed, hearing an unusual noise coming from outside.She went to the window that overlooked the street and smiled as people dashed back and forth, and engaged in conversation with one another.
