i - moving in.

16 0 0
                                    

m“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything.” 
― Marilyn Monroe. 

***

One thing I’ve never enjoyed was hospital visits. Not to have it mentioned, not to visit someone, and especially not to be in one. The thought of even having to be near one terrified me to the point of wanting to faint. The nurses were never nice, the food always made me lose too much weight, the weight loss provokes them to keep me longer to make sure I’m not starving myself. The list of how terrible hospitals are is endless. And, thanks to my ever weakening immune system, I always end up in one every time I’m taken over seas on a business trip with my father. I’m surprised at the fact that I don’t have a permanent hold embedded into my forearm from all the needles I’ve been poked with. It was only February and I had just checked out of the hospital for the third time this year, the first two being from a nasty cold and strep-throat.

The rental car my father had rented was hurrying its way towards the nearest airport so we made it home in time for the next meeting. I always thought America was a beautiful country, all the historical places, all the monuments. Everywhere I go is beautiful, but nothing can compare to England. I haven’t been home since Christmas and I miss it dearly. Speaking of not being home, I should probably call my friends back.

As we climbed out of the rental car and dropped our bags off with my father’s assistant to take care of, I searched for the nearest pay phone to make the call. Excusing myself as my father sat down to wait for our flight to be called, I quickly made my way to the payphone and started rummaging through my pockets for loose change. After turning up empty handed for anything American except for a couple of dollar, I searched for my next option. My eyes landed on a small snack bar and smiled to myself. Change.

“Excuse me?” I politely asked the tired looking man behind the counter. He looked up from his book to me and raised an eyebrow.

“Could I please have some change?” I questioned, only to have him point to a sign telling me I had to buy something regardless. I sighed and quickly scanned the small snack stand for something to purchase for change. The title of a magazine caught my eye and I silently giggled to myself.

“Here.” I handed the magazine to the man. I man muttered something incoherent and rang me up. He handed me my magazine and change back and returned to his position and continues his reading. Sighing, I made my way back to the payphones and started dialing a very familiar number to a shared flat between my two best friends: Louis and Harry.

“Ello?” a tired voice answered and then yawned.

“So when did Harry have a nipple transplant to help the nippleless?” I read the headlines and laughed.

“Grace! It’s you!” a high-pitched voice suddenly shouted, more awake. Not long after, there was rummaging around in the background and muffled noises. “How have you been?”

“Pretty okay, Lou. Had to go back to the hospital again.” I sighed to myself. I looked around the airport at all the people meeting and saying goodbye to each other. It is true what the movies say, airports have actually seen it all.

“Really, Grace. You must take care of yourself better. What would I do without my best fri- what? Do you not want to talk to Grace?” Louis started but then suddenly sounded further away. There was suddenly more rummaging in the background and a yell or two.

“Louis? Are you okay?” I raised an eyebrow, even though they couldn’t see. I started picking at what little nail polish I had left on my fingernails. I really needed to kick this habit. As the rummaging and yelling continued on the other end, I decided to lean out of the half-enclosed area of phones at my dad. He was reading the paper and checking his watch every so often.

Saving GraceWhere stories live. Discover now