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18
Dennis
“You can't be serious, after what just happened?”
“Look, Dennis, I'm not kicking you out like that. I'm just saying in the morning, you need to go back home. This was great, it always is, but I don't think that it changes anything. We were always good at sex, Dennis. We only did it a couple of times, but it was certainly spectacular when we did. But, that doesn't mean anything or at least not what you want it to mean. It doesn't change the reason that we're not together to begin with.”
“Come on, Kimberly. Do you really want to do this right now?”
I told him that I didn't, and that I had to get some sleep because I had to work in the morning. It probably wasn't the best way to handle it, but I was always handling things the wrong way. This would just be one more.
Dennis was adamant that we talk, and I explained that we were doomed from the get-go, him going to play in Dallas and me being all the way out here in Maine. There was no middle ground for us, and I was thinking that the quicker he really got that through his head, the better off we would be. Having sex with him had definitely not been on the plan, if there had been one.
He did go, but he was not happy about it and made it quite clear. He was so strongly adverse to it, I actually felt guilty about it. His smell lingered in the room and in several areas in the house. It was going to take a lot to get it out, because I had sprayed twice, and I was now in the process of washing my sheets.
I went to bed that night thinking about Dennis but knowing that I had done the right thing. When I was around him, I didn't think straight, and I started to believe that we could somehow be together. I knew better than that though. I knew that he was going a different way. I was in Maine now anyway. He was going to be in Texas soon. There was nothing I could do about that. While it was nice to see him again, I knew that I had done the right thing. I didn't feel like it at the moment. And actually, it was quite painful to even think about, but I had to believe that this was what was right. If not, it was all for nothing.
* * *
The phone rang lateinto the night and since I usually didn't get a call so late, I practically knocked over all of the stuff on my nightstand trying to get to it. I expected to find that it was Dennis. He had certainly put me on his speed dial as of late, and he was the only person I could think of that would call me so late. When I found out who it was, I wished that it would have been him. It would have been better.
The woman on the phone was someone who knew my name and if that wasn't creepy enough, I realized quickly why she knew my name. My father had been in a car accident, a very bad one from the sound of it, and they needed a next-of-kin to come to the hospital and make some decisions.
I didn't even know what to say or what to do. The idea of something happening to my dad made me feel sick to my stomach. After everything, I couldn't lose my dad as well. He was the last of my direct family. Mom was gone and I needed dad around for a little bit longer. My heart couldn't take another loss, not after everything that had been going on.
I got the next flight back home and I tried my best to not think of the worst. It was easy to believe that my world was ending, and he wouldn't make it through. It actually seemed more possible than everything being fine. I learned a long time ago that life didn’t get the happy ending shown on the television. In real life, it almost never worked out the way you would want it to.
Not really worried about bringing much, I just grabbed a bag and left the house. The airport was busy, but I didn’t see any of the people around me. I was on auto-pilot. That sickening feeling wouldn't go away, but I kept telling myself, lying to myself, that everything would turn out fine. Somehow.
The long flight took several hours and luckily, I was at the hospital a few hours after I got the call. There was nothing like racing against time, not knowing the whole of it, if you were late or not. To find out that I wasn’t was the first spot of good news that I’d had in a while.
I found the ICU where he was supposed to be, and I was asking the information desk if they knew where he was. I didn't want to frantically go through the hospital calling out his name, but I was quite certain that I would if I needed to. I think at some point people started to realize that, because then they were ready to help me.
I was finally taken to him, and the first thing I thought was dad looked horrible. He was attached to all kinds of beeping machines and it was quite obvious that the wreck was a very bad one. It was hard to see him like this, but I sat down next to him and I knew that I wasn't going to leave his side until something was done. He had to be okay, even if I had to will it so.
It was late and I started to doze off. Someone came into the room and I looked up to see Chelsea standing there. At first, I thought I was seeing things. What in the world was she doing here?
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to see how he was doing.”
“How would you even know that he was in a wreck? Why would you come to check on my father?”
Chelsea looked away. She didn't want to say what came next and it was quite easy to understand why. Before it even came out of her mouth, I was getting to my feet, putting it together.
“You! You are the one that hit my father?!”
Chelsea nodded her head, but it was different than the last time. When she had said something about Dennis, she had been almost delighted in what she had done, but not this time. This time, she seemed to have a little bit of remorse and I guess I should have been happy about that, her having a little bit of humanity left in her, but it made me just wonder why she hit him. Why my dad?
“How did it happen? How the hell did you hit my dad? Look at him! Look what you've done to him!”
“I didn't mean to.”
“That's alright,” I told her. “I will talk to the police and make sure that they know what kind of person you are and what you've done.”
That little bit of remorse she had was gone now when the threat came out. She told me that Dennis was not going to corroborate the story.
“I don't know what kind of hold you have on him, but you're not going to get away with this. If my dad dies, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that you spend the rest of your life in prison, right where you belong.”
Without saying another word to her, I called to the nurse and told her that I did not want Chelsea anywhere near my father.
“She was the one that hit him, and I can't trust that she won't try to do something evil to him because of it.”
Funny enough, she looked almost wounded by my words and it seemed kind of silly to me. It was obvious that Chelsea was dangerous, and I didn't even want to think about why she had been there to see my dad. She knew that he was my dad. What the hell had happened?
