I had no appointments after lunch. I had a bunch of books to be read. I had an absolutely comfortable recliner in my office. I could use a break.
I have this absolutely bad habit of buying books and forgetting to read them so I had a shit ton of books all anal retentively settled chronologically in a huge shelf.
I asked Malya to blend me some nice hot chocolate.
I have hated coffee ever since I've known what it smells or tastes like so hot chocolate it is for me.
I pulled out the most recent book I'd bought in a garage sale. A novel by the name "Namesake" written by an Indian author, Jhumpa Lahiri.
It was only a few minutes before I was completely consumed by the literature. So consumed I turned oblivious to the fact that the minutes had turned into hours and the sun was bound to call it a day and retire.
.
When I was almost done with the book. After all the feeling too much and sobbing at parts, I heard my office cell ring.
I ran over to answer it.
"Doctor Holiti here"
"Ma'am, there's a man by the name Nathaniel Reid here. He says he has an appointment for six."
"Jesus Malya. Nathaniel. Shit. "
" Ma'am, he doesn't have an appointment on my file but I saw him come in earlier today. Is he a friend? "
" No. He came in when you were out this afternoon. Jesus. I'll be there. Give me five. "
I hung up and settled the office. It looked like my room. Remind me never to take a break this way. Also remind me to inform Malya about impromptu appointments. So I could atleast be presentable to someone who was going to walk in that door and pour it all out.
I checked myself in the mirror. Jesus, did I look like death. I washed my face and applied a coat of lip balm. I wasn't much for make up. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Straightened my skirt out a bit. Good to go.
I went out to the reception room. I looked at Malya. She looked at me all smitten.
◽
Malya was the closest I had been to anyone since I moved to British Columbia . She wanted to become an author but also needed to earn a living. She lived next door to me with her boyfriend when I first moved from Alberta . I would hear her all those nights screaming and crying, " Morgan no. Morgan please."
I would see her every morning leaving her apartment at exactly nine. I didn't know her much then but I knew she waited tables at a near by cafe. She also wrote these amazing quotes on the white board everyday. It made you want to live a little.
Everyday after she left, there would be another lady who visited her apartment. Some days she'd leave with the boyfriend. Most days they'd stay in. Some day I could hear what they were doing. I despised of Malya for allowing this to happen to her.
And then it stopped.
It was one day when I was cooking in my apartment when Malya bust in.
"Help me please", she wailed.
I could think back on all the years that I had been alive and I still wouldn't be able to recall anyone sound more terrified.
"What's wrong?" I ran up to her.
"He's killing me. Please. "
I reached for the phone and called 911.
"It's okay." I held her and tried to comfort her. "I'm here.
"Here. Speak." I passed her the phone.
"Where is that fucking whore?" The boyfriend slammed open the door.
"You're not going to fucking pay for any fucking damages done around here so you better learn to open a door gentle.", I went up to him. God I hated his stupid face. I wasn't scared of him. I wasn't scared of anyone.
I could hear Malya using the word "rape" and "abuse". Blew off my top I suppose.
Next thing I remember he was lying on the floor with a pair of scissors rammed into his thigh. I am not much for violence but I also am not much for tolerance.
It was all settled there after. He was charged with domestic violence, attempted rapes and drug abuse. He was also leaving with a scissor wound. I got off easy for the stabbing because it was for self defense. Well.
So here we were. Malya, my best good friend. And I her savior.
I had appointed her as my assistant and she wrote when she wasn't assisting me. I kept telling her she didn't have to call me Ma'am at the office. She insisted on it. I loved her.
◽
I looked over at Nathaniel. He was frowning at something written on a book that he had probably picked from the stuff lying on the table.
He looked up at me. Woah.
"Hello Doctor. I'm sorry but Sigmund Freud was a pervert. Wasn't he?" He shook his head like he was shaking off something. He laughed then.
Wooooaaaaahhhhhh.
