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I shake my head. “I remember trying oranges when I was little and being dissuaded by their acidity though I do not remember reacting like this. I don’t believe I’ve tried any other citrus fruits.”
“Well, it is possible to just have an allergy to limes, but my recommendation would be to avoid all citrus fruits just in case.”
“I wholeheartedly concur and since I don’t really like them anyway, it should be an obtainable goal.” I’ll just have to read ingredients more carefully when I go out, which isn’t often. Or it wasn’t until Katie was thrust into my life.
Twenty minutes later, I’m heading back to the waiting room with a Band-Aid on my arm, a prescription in my hand, and more knowledge about allergies than when I entered. I settle the account and then turn to scan for Katie, but she is not in any of the chairs. There’s an old guy who’s mostly asleep until his own snores wake him up, a young boy who keeps trying to get closer to the old man, and a frazzled woman, probably the boy’s mother who keeps hissing, “Johnny, come back here.” But there is no Katie. Seriously? The woman poisons me, then dumps me at a hospital and steals my car? Does she not remember that I know where she works? Then, she enters from a hallway that I assume leads to bathrooms and the elevator.
“Oh, are you done? You look better. How are you feeling?” There is real concern on her face, and I feel a little bad that I assumed she stole my car. That’s just going to remain my little secret.
“I am finished for now though they did some blood work I will have to follow up with. It appears I am allergic to limes, so I must avoid citrus fruits in the future.”
“And here I was going to treat you to a pineapple lemonade,” she says with a smile.
For a moment I stare at her, wondering if I should rethink my guilt. Does she plan to eliminate me in more ways than just the competition? Then, she smacks my arm and says, “I’m kidding, Derek. That was a joke.” She pauses as if waiting for me to laugh, but as I don’t find it funny, I simply stare at her. Finally, she sighs, “Come on, it’s been a long day, and I don’t know about you, but I’m tired.”
“Agreed. I can certainly use a respite before tomorrow, but I do believe it’s only fair that you let me choose the venues for our next excursion.”
She opens her mouth as if to argue but when I lift an eyebrow at her and point to my band-aid, she sighs instead. “I suppose you’ve earned that. The museum then?”
“And then the lighthouse if it’s not raining.” Both of these activities seem peaceful and unlikely to threaten my existence unlike today. I hold out my hand for the car keys, but Katie does not seem to understand my request. “The keys, please.”
“Oh, right.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the keys but before she hands them over, she asks, “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I am completely fine. Plus, I never let people drive Leia. You were only afforded the opportunity because I was ill.”
Her eyebrow arches on her forehead. “Did you just call your car Leia?”
“I did.” A heat of embarrassment slowly spreads up my neck. That is not a detail I normally let slip. “Now, let’s go.” I reach for the keys but she pulls her hand back just out of my reach.
“As in Princess Leia?”
“It might be in homage to one of my favorite movies, yes. Everyone is allowed at least one guilty pleasure.”
“Oh, I agree. I just didn’t picture you for an adventure movie type of guy,” she says, finally relinquishing the keys.
“Yes, well.” I’m unsure what else to say, although I’m tempted to ask her what type of movies she thinks I watch. She’d probably say documentaries or The History Channel, which I do watch. I realize my liking Star Wars might be a bit of an anomaly, but perhaps that’s why I like it. Skywalker and Solo are so different from me. They are brave and charming and able to do anything while I feel much more like C3PO - awkward and misunderstood.
I remember the first time I watched the movie; I was so enamored with Luke Skywalker that I found a stick in my yard and pretended it was a lightsaber. For hours on end, I had imaginary sword fights and slashed at bushes, but when I accidentally smacked my father in my exuberance, he broke my stick and sent me to my room to study. My mother reacted similarly when I used her dining room chairs to pretend I was flying the Millennium Falcon but ended up pulling her tablecloth off the table along with the dishes on top. Only half of them broke, but it had been another lecture, another trip to my room, and after that, the Star Wars movie had disappeared. However, it lived on in my head, and later, when I was old enough, in the books that I read.
“Shall we?” I say, returning to the present.
“Of course.”
The drive back to the office is quiet, but unlike this morning, the silence doesn’t feel strained. I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re friends, but I suppose it’s hard to not get a little closer to someone after an experience like ours.
When we pull into the parking lot, I want to say something, but I’m not sure what. Thank you? It doesn’t quite seem right considering she is the reason I had to go to the ER at all. It was fun? Not really. Looking forward to tomorrow? Am I?
“Have a good night,” is what comes out of my mouth, and Katie chuckles softly.
“You too,” she says, and then she is gone. I watch until she gets in her car and drives away because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, and then I head home, but on my way, I dial Tommy.
“I almost died today,” I say when he answers.
“Doing what?”
“Working with Katie. It started off in a dance studio of all places, but then I ended up in the emergency room.” I pull into my driveway but make no motion to get out of the car.
“From dancing?”
