Laney's Point Of View;
After promising I would help Justin, I just sat down with him in complete sympathy, listening to his conversation with his daughter's mother. I was honest when I said I will help him. Cara was his life, even if he doesn't how it nor talk about her all the time. He might be a little careless, and I guess the alcohol takes the blame because he drinks a lot. He needed to show his ex that he's trustworthy and can raise Cara perfectly.
While speaking to his ex, I noticed that he spoke so quietly to her, didn't even yell once. He was literally begging her to give him another chance with Cara, it made my heart shatter in pieces. A stressful expression was plastered on his face the whole time, beads of sweats were forming on his forehead. He was wearing his black-framed reading glasses, wish I learned from him that he basically can't see without them.
"Okay bye." I heard him end the conversation, then he hung up the phone. Handing me my iPhone back, he wiped his eyes with the back of his palm and leaned forward on the pillow. He was still in his weird position, legs crossed and a pillow that he was leaning his head was in his lap.
"What did she say?" I questioned, hoping it wouldn't be anything unpleasant. He gets discouraged really easily and I get the feeling that he just wants to give everything up after the first try.
"She doesn't trust me." He replied, his voice cracking. He has been like this for the past hour, even his mom left for lunch, leaving me alone with him.
His mom, Pattie, was intimidating as a woman could be. She seemed like a happy, enthusiastic person but still, I was intimidated by her. I wanted to know Justin better so I would be able to help him, that's when I decided to pop the awkward question that I was dreading to ask.
“Your mom seems rich?” It was a very awkward question to ask, I didn't want to push him over the edge because he had financial problems, meanwhile his mom looked like she's the richest person I've ever met.
“She is,” Justin rasped, his voice hoarse from everything he has been through in the last couple of hours. “She owns a number of recording studios.” He seemed uneasy about the subject, but at least I learned something new.
Earlier when he was able to talk without tearing up, he told me that they pumped his stomach and made him drink charcoal, a black disgusting liquid, to flush his stomach from all the pills he had taken so carelessly. I was thankful that he didn't die, but what they did to him sounded painful.
Then what shocked me the most that he said it wasn't his first time getting his stomach pumped, he told me that when he was in university, he drank too much alcohol and he was taken to the hospital because of alcohol poisoning. He lived life to the fullest. He actually laughed for the first time after he told me, a real laugh.
"I have an idea." I exclaimed instantly when an idea popped in my head. "Do as I say and Cara will be home with you the moment you get out of the hospital."
"Alright." he said hoarsely, clearly upset about everything.
"Where is the button thingy of the bed?" Questioning, I paced around the bed trying to find the control panel. Justin pointed to a few buttons in the reach of his arm and I went to his side to check them out. I've never seen a hospital bed so complicated, it also looked comfortable and cozy for some reason. Justin however was still in his weird position that I had no idea seriously how come he was comfortable.
"What are you doing?" He asked once I pressed that button that made the end of the bed lower dramatically. I pressed on the button next to it, making it rise back in its original angle.
"It's like a racing car." I joked, trying the next button which made the part he was sitting on suddenly rise, startling him.
"I'm sorry." I apologized cracking a smile.
"Laney..." I heard him sigh. "I know you're trying to help but that won't cheer me up."
"I wasn't trying to cheer you up." I rolled my eyes, why would I try to cheer him up by messing with his bed?
I finally adjusted the bed to be at a 45 degree angle, I closed the blinds that were letting the sun rays in and only kept the tiny sconce on the wall on. I fluffed a pillow and placed it against the bed
Grabbing his shoulders, I pushed him until his back reached the bed. He was looking at me weirdly the whole time. I grabbed the sheets that were on the end of the bed and pulled them on him but he refused by shaking his head.
"I'm not cold." He whined, laying on top of them instead.
"Fine." I stated, crossing my arms on my chest. "Close your eyes."
"The fuck––" I interrupted him by stomping my feet on the floor.
"Close them!" I insisted, startling him.
"Would you lower your voice woman." He complained, pulling on the ends of his hair.
"Close. Your. Eyes." I stubbornly said, stopping on each word to make him listen to me. I wanted him to sleep because he obviously hasn't the whole night.
He closed them mumbling 'now what' the minute he finally listened to me and closed his eyelids. I didn't even respond to him, I just let him realize that he needs to sleep. I bet that staying for 72 hours would be torturous. And the nice person I am, I promised I would come back until he gets out. After he fell asleep––which took no longer than a minute or two–– I removed his glasses off his face and set it delicately next to him.
