“Relax, I’ve already called Dad, he’s on his
way.”
“No! I don’t mean Dad.” I shake my head and
squeeze the nurse’s hand to tell her that I want to
stop moving. Mom comes in close, moves my
mask, putting her lips to my mouth. “What is it,
honey?”
“Call her father.”
Patrick
“No, Al, you’re wrong again!” I say, exasperated at
our supplier. “They should have been three cases
ofcokeand twoorange.”
“Alright, no problem,” he says. “I’ll bring them
to you as soon as I’m passing by this way again.”
“Is it possible that it’s so hard for you to get the
delivery right? I mean, one fucking delivery?”
Frustrated, I rest up against the counter and
cross my arms over my chest.
“What the heck is it?” he asks me. “God, why
are you so sensitive this morning?”
I lift my arms in a sign of peace. Speaking with
Al is like talking with a mule that is perpetually in
a drunken stupor. I shouldn’t serve him all that
Guinness in the evenings.
The door opens and Rain runs in with her cell
phone in her hand.
“Hey, Rain, why are you running?”
She stops, panting, before showing me the
phone.
“What?” I say getting closer.
