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You'll be all right, Ginge, I said to myself. Over and over I recited it, hoping that, somehow, she'd be able to hear my thoughts and obey them. But each time her eyes remained shut, and her exterior displayed no signs of recovering anytime soon.
Twiddling my thumbs, my eyes danced from wall to wall, to the ceiling to the floor. My patience was slowly thinning as I waited expectantly on Josh.
I still felt mixed about his situation. Obviously, the last thing I wanted him to feel was obligation to drive all the way over to a hospital (of all places), sulk in traffic, when I barely knew him.
Of course, he knew Ginger fairly well by now, so I was sure her well-being was important to him. As would be if the roles were reversed. Execpt, Ginger would probably scream if (before she'd met him) he had gotten anything like a paper cut.
I kept grabbing my cellphone and checking the time, as if that would tell me where Josh was. However, my battery conveniently died, so, instead of turning it on and off, I nervously fiddled with it in my hands.
Using the clock on the wall, I tried to calculate the amount of time it would take him to arrive here from his hotel. But seeing as I had no clue where it located, my attempts were in vain.
Just then, the door behind me creaked open, revealing Josh's lean frame. He stood in the doorway, a sympathetic expression painted across his face. Quietly, he shut the door behind me and said, "Hey..."
"Hi," I said meekly, a half-hearted smile turning the corners of my lips.
"Mind if I sit down?" he asked me, briefly eyeing Ginger's motionless body.
"Go ahead," I said, nodding to the nearest provided chair. It looked uncomfortable, made out of solid wood covered by a cheap, dark leather material. However, Josh neither complained nor looked awkward.
"How's she doing?" he asked presently, his gaze dancing from Ginger to me.
My eyes were fixated on Ginger, blinking back the persistent tears.
"Not much better," I answered grimly. A sad smile adorned my mouth, quickly disappearing just as hastily as it had appeared.
"I'm sure she will."
I nodded my heading, understanding the situation completely. No amount of wishing could save Ginger; only prayers. And even those might be denied. So, now, it was just a tedious waiting game.
No amount of reassurance, even from Josh, could alter my thoughts.
"More importantly," Josh added momentarily, "how are you?"
Still nervously twiddling my thumbs, my gaze fell to my knees.
How was I doing?
Until now, the question seemed foreign. I hadn't been concerned with my well-being. My full attention had been focused on Ginger. Besides, I already knew I was an emotional wreck.
But how was I star doing?
"Tired," I replied, heaving a heavy sigh. "Upset..."
"Why upset?" His voice was calm and, in some aspects, soothing.
"Because--" I stopped myself, contemplating whether to share our argument or not. Maybe I could vaguely mention it without saying the topic. It was...embarrassing.
"Something happened beforehand. Ginger got made and walked out. Then..." The sudden urge to cry - remembering the scene - ached in my eyes. The feeling seemed stronger than before - harder to contain.
Josh's stunning eyes fixed onto me, his face sporting a reassuring expression. "Everything will be all right."
Somehow, though it felt strange to admit, having Josh (or maybe just company in general) with me seemed to make the whole ordeal a little less painful.
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