Running on Empty (14 page)

“So, Blake, what have you been doing since graduation? You kind of just disappeared.”

“Yeah. I...well, I just needed to get out of this town. There really wasn’t anything for me here anymore.” He shifts his weight uncomfortably in his chair. I can’t help but feel there’s more he wants to say, but he skips right over the comment and keeps talking.

“I headed out to Colorado and took some business classes. Then I transferred into the University of Colorado and got a degree in Construction Engineering Management. I knew I wanted to stay in dad’s line of work and eventually take over his business if he needed me to. But, he didn’t need me right then, so I started my own construction business in Colorado. I still own the business and luckily, I can manage it from here, but eventually I’ll need to figure out what I’m going to do with it.”

“Hmm. Tough one. Would you rather stay in Colorado?” I ask.

Running his hand through his hair he says, “I thought I did. Now I’m not so sure. I guess I’ll have to figure something out soon though.” I start to ask another question, but we’re interrupted by the doctor. As he enters the room, Blake and I both look at him, then immediately look at each other with our eyes raised and mouths open in surprise. As we quietly giggle, it becomes more and more difficult to contain. There’s just something extra funny about trying to cover up laughter; it makes it virtually impossible and there are only so many times you can raise your hand to your mouth and clear your throat. Yeah, it’s completely obvious we are laughing at this man.

Sitting right on the end of his nose, is the largest, darkest mole I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It has a hair sticking out that is approximately three inches long. I feel the sudden urge to grab my purse and get my tweezers. I look over at Blake and watch his lips as he silently mouths
Guaca-mole
.

Damn you, Austin Powers.

Stop it,
I mouth back at him.

When the doctor approaches the table, I feel my eyes start to cross as they continue to focus on his nose. Over his shoulder, I can see Blake still holding his hand over his mouth trying to cover his laughter. I try to straighten my face, but it doesn’t work, so I just go with it and flash the man the biggest, fakest smile I’ve ever attempted. It seems the easiest thing to do at the moment.

Dr. Mole begins to examine my hand, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s getting enjoyment out of inflicting excruciating pain on my poor fingers.

It’s at that point that I decide I can’t continue to look at Blake …I don’t think my fingers can take anymore. So in an attempt to maintain a straight face, I move my eyes to focus on the floor. I breathe in deeply – both in effort to stop laughing and to manage the pain now radiating through my hand all the way up my arm.

The doctor finishes his exam and leaves the room without saying another word. Blake and I look at each other, finally free to laugh out loud.

“Holy Moley! Did you see the size of that thing?” Blake lets out a chuckle. I smile to myself.
Oh, Austin Powers
.
How you make me laugh.

“That poor man. I feel bad for laughing. But really? He’s a doctor. There isn’t anything he could do to remove it? I mean, he does have to talk to people all day.” I shake my head in disgust. “It was even worse up close, Blake.”

Blake lets out a loud laugh. “Well, I feel bad enough you have to be here. I would feel really bad if you had been poked in the eye with that thing. Did you see the length of that whisker? It may actually be Guinness Book of World Records worthy.”

I let out another giggle, this time covering my mouth in case the doctor walks in. It feels really good to laugh.

The doctor enters the room shortly after, keeping a safe distance from me this time. He throws the x-rays up on the lit board and tells me that I haven’t broken any bones. I do, however, have some bone contusions and soft tissue injuries. Blake lets out a sigh of relief and pats my arm, letting me know he’s sorry.

After Dr. Mole finishes his expert diagnosis, I walk out of the exam room with my fingers splinted and wrapped in gauze, and with a prescription for pain medicine. Making my way though the ER waiting room and into the main lobby, I find myself pummeled by three little girls and one Harlow. They all immediately look at my hand with huge eyes.

“Oh my gosh. Mommy, what happened? Are you okay?” Rylie asks, looking at my hand sadly.

“I’m okay baby. I just got my hand caught in the door. No broken bones so mommy will be just fine. Don’t worry, cuckoo head.” I give her a big hug, being extra careful with my hand.

“Mama – are you sure? That looks like it hurts a lot! Do you want me to carry your purse?” Kyndall offers.

I give her a grateful smile. “Kyndall – that would be really helpful actually. Thank you so much, my sweet baby girl.” I lean over to give her a squeeze while still holding on to Rylie.

“No, Mommy! I’m the baby!” Rylie shouts and pushes Kyndall away from me. Seriously, we’re doing this right now? What happened to feeling sorry for mommy?

“No, you’re not,” Kyndall shoots back. “You’re four years old now. You’re not the baby. You’re a big girl. Isn’t that what you’re always saying? Like, all day long? How you’re a big girl now? So there–” She crosses her arms over her chest and finishes with an exaggerated “hmpf”.

Getting another push in, Rylie yells again, “Yes I am, Kyndall!” Then she takes a breath as if to calm herself down. “Stop talking at me Kyndall, you make my head hurt.”

Kyndall lets out an angry gasp and I look to Harlow for help.

Harlow takes a chocolate bar out of her purse and holds it right in front of Rylie’s face. Rylie takes one look at the chocolate and grins. Fight forgotten. She lets go of me and goes straight into Harlow’s arms as she picks her up. Harlow gives her the chocolate, but not before she breaks off two other pieces and gives them to Nycole and Kyndall, giving them a wink in the process.

I take in a deep breath. “Thanks. Hey, where’s mine?” I say, bumping Harlow’s hip with mine.

Rolling her eyes while chewing her piece of chocolate, Nycole huffs. “You guys are teaching her bad habits, you know. You always give her stuff like that when she’s bad. She’s going to start being bad
just
to get candy, Mom. Jeez.”

While I’m mentally strangling her, I hear the lobby doors open behind me from the ER waiting room.

“Hey Blake,” Harlow says as he walks up behind us. “I’m assuming you guys have worked out your issues?” She looks down at my hand and then back at Blake. Pointing her finger in his face she adds, “You and I are going to have a long talk when I get back. I mean
really
Blake, did you have to slam her hand in the door?”

All three heads whip around and their eyes narrow as the girls take their first look at Blake Morgan. I press my lips together as I try not to encourage the behavior by triumphantly smiling. Watching all three of them practice their own versions of the mommy death stare on Blake is somewhat redeeming. I quickly glance at Blake and shrug my shoulders.

Harlow assesses the situation and I can tell she’s also struggling to keep a straight face. “Oops…probably not the best time to mention the whole ‘slamming the door and breaking Alex’s hand’ thing. Sorry about that, Blake.”

Turning to me she says, “Also probably not the best time for this either, but I’m leaving right now to go meet Trace. So that means
he’s
going to need to drive you home.” She nods her head towards Blake and clears her throat, still trying to contain her laughter when she looks again at the girls still glaring at Blake. “I’m also sorry about
that
, Blake.” I can’t help but let out a small giggle. I know she’s trying, but it’s blatantly obvious she’s finding this situation very amusing.

With all three girls standing protectively around my legs and holding on to my waist, I watch Blake as he studies them all with respectful eyes. Then he looks back at me and sighs.

“Well,” he says, pulling my keys from his pocket, “This is going to be interesting.”

For once I couldn’t agree more.

I look at my girls and give them each a reassuring smile. I place my good hand on each of their heads as I make the introductions. “Nycole, Kyndall, Rylie, this is Blake Morgan. My very, very good friend. He was actually my
best friend
growing up.” I give them a quick wink and whisper quietly to them, “Now ease up on the poor guy, he’s not that bad.” I grin at Blake.

Blake flashes me his gorgeous smile, but immediately turns his attention to my girls. “It’s nice to meet you lovely ladies.” He crouches down so he can look them each in the eyes. “I’m really sorry about the accident with your mom’s hand. I promise all of you that I’m going to do everything that I can to make her feel all better, if you guys don’t mind me helping her out for a while.”

I internally cringe at the word help. I watch my girls, each of them mesmerized by Blake’s beautiful and endearing smile, as they shake his hand. As they smile innocently back at him, I feel a wall crash down from around my heart.

Well, I guess Blake was right again.

This is
definitely
going to be interesting.

Walking into our house, I look at the living room in dismay. If I would have known how the events of today were going to unfold, I would’ve definitely straightened up. It looks like a tornado has been through the interior of my entire house. I vaguely remember tripping over the Lego house that Nancy and the kids must have built before she took them to her house, when I came home last night, but I didn’t bother cleaning it up. Now there are Lego’s strewn all over the floor along with a soccer ball, Hello Kitty pillow, Barbie dolls, Ken dolls dressed up in Barbie clothes, a couple of these tiny little dolls that I absolutely hate because trying to put their clothes on is a very daunting task, my bra and shoes from last night –
oops
...all over the living room floor.

I lean down slowly to pick up the bra as Blake enters the house with the girls following him. Quickly lodging it behind the couch before he can see it, I feel my hand starting to throb more and more. Blake, thankfully, stopped by the pharmacy on the way home for my pain medicine. The main question is when I can actually take it. I don’t want to be knocked out all night. What if Rylie has another accident in her bed? What if Kyndall has a nightmare? She’s had nightmares ever since Derek died. I guess I’ll have to try to tough it out tonight.

I turn to watch Blake observing the unfortunate state of my house. A corner of his mouth tips up when he spots the Ken dolls.

“Don’t laugh, Blake. That might be you one day. Actually, I
guarantee
that will be you if you hang around here long enough,” I say, giggling. I know this is the truth.

Chuckling under his breath, he walks to the kitchen and places the prescription bag on the counter. He turns to face the girls who are still on his heels. “Well, it’s a good thing I look good in pink.” He shakes his fingers at the girls. “But no sequins! That’s where I draw the line.”

Giggles erupt. Yes, I think the girls have definitely forgiven Blake.
Traitors.

“Girls, one accident is enough for the day, don’t you think? I need you to pick up the toys and everything else that’s on the floor that doesn’t belong there and take it where is does belong. Okay?”

The girls just stand there looking back at me.
I’m sorry…am I speaking Greek?

“Girls! Please, do as I say. This place is a wreck and I want us to make a good impression for my friend Blake.” At the mention of Blake’s name, the girls spring into action. Shrieks and giggles fill the living room as they run back and forth to their respective bedrooms putting away their things. I haven’t heard them giggle this much in a long time. Thinking back to this morning when I actually giggled as well, I’m beginning to think this is just a Blake Morgan side effect. He should come with a warning label.

“Mom, what’s your bra doing behind the couch?” Nycole says, holding up my bra for all the freakin’ world to see. I walk over and snatch it from her hand and put it behind my back. She gives me an extremely calculating little smile. “Well, you should put your stuff away, too. I mean, it’s only fair, right? Lead by example – that’s what you always tell me.”