AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Work,” I said.
“Jeez, I didn’t think Skippy had it in him.”
“Yeah, well, whatever.”
We sat at the kitchen table, eating, and they asked more questions about the incident. Talking about it helped me remember details about Flynn Safadi. When I had reached the car and tried to open the door, his face had been mashed into the air bag. That had scared me. I’d been more worried for his breathing, that he’d suffocate with his nose imbedded in the bag.
They asked more questions. Breaking the window had been another frightening experience. My instinct had been to jab at the center of the window, but then my gut had said not to because the shards would fall on his skin. I hit the glass in the lower right corner, and it broke right away. I remembered the spectators and helpers cheering when that happened. I was able to reach in and unlock his door right away. The smell of gasoline grew stronger as I tried to get his seatbelt off, and then I remembered the cutting blade on the window tool.
Margo and Dale were intrigued by the steps I’d taken to get him out of the car. But talking about it again, I remembered his beautiful suit. The white shirt with the starched collar had become blood-soaked. He had thick black hair, a lock of which had fallen over his forehead. His skin was flawless except for the obvious scrapes. I had cradled his head in my hands before I let it rest on the concrete.
Something about taking care of him for those few moments had brought something out of me.
“I liked taking care of him.”
Dale looked at me, shocked. “Like as a patient?”
“I’m not sure. Is that what it is?”
“Did the blood bother you?” Margo asked. “That was an issue in school.”
“It was only an issue because I didn’t know what he’d injured. The EMT pushed me out of the way, but I had figured it was a head wound and had used my sweater to apply pressure. Not that it bled that much…”
I sat back in my chair, thinking about what it had meant to save him. I had saved a life, and that hit me again. Earlier, I had denied that it was a big deal. But now, remembering the fragility of that talented plastic surgeon, what he’d do in future cases to improve lives and how, if he had died, so many people would have suffered—well, it was intense.
“You okay, kiddo?” Dale asked gently. “You look a little peaked.”
“I just realized that if he’d died, the world would be in worse shape than it is now.”
“You read about Flynn Safadi,” Dale said, patting my arm.
“I did. Wow.”
“He’s a lot more than the celebrity pages make him out to be,” Dale said.
“I only know the gossip,” Margo added. “He’s got a rep.”
“I don’t know how he’d have time,” I said. “From what I’ve read, he’s impressive.” I stifled a yawn.
“Do you want to get back in bed?” Dale asked.
“No. I want to go to work,” I said. “I can’t sit around here all night. I’m going to seriously lose it, or buy some new bras.”
“Hide her computer,” Margo said, laughing. “Okay, I’m headed back home to tell the family you’re fine. Everyone’s worried.”
“I’ll stop by. Dale’s probably right. The car wash isn’t the place to go.”
Margot got up and hugged me. “I’ll let them know you might stop by. It’ll do Pop good to see you, too.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to lie down,” Dale said, leaving.
I made my getaway for my room. Visiting my parents was a desperation move, but I owed my dad that much. The poor man had been so worried about me. They’d been through so much. I could go out of my way for him to see that I was fine. For once, I took a little extra care with my appearance, just so they wouldn’t worry.
After I dressed, I got a bag out of my stash and opened the closet to see which of my latest purchases were suitable to give a middle-aged man. My father was in decent shape for a guy his age, and I sorted through boxes of briefs and undershirts, and had to stifle my laughter so as not to disturb Dale in the next room. George liked my inappropriate gifts. He often joked at family functions about how he wore underwear I’d purchased for him on eBay. My mother was angry that I spent so much on my obsession. So lately I had been careful not to overdo it. But this was special.
I quietly left the house. There weren’t any signs of reporters or news trucks in the neighborhood, thankfully. But just in case, I slid down as far as I could in the seat, barely seeing over the steering wheel.
My friends, who are embarrassed to drive with me, say my car is as nondescript as a car can be. An older, pale blue grannie-model sedan. But I love it because it doesn’t attract any attention. The sun was already at the horizon, so sunglasses were out of the question. When I got to the corner, I realized the television satellite vans had just moved three hundred yards from our house. Hopefully, the reporters who stood in a cluster at the curb wouldn’t recognize me.
