A Will To Change (Hope) (3 page)

She lunged toward me and pushed me as hard as she could, not even budging me, causing the sheet to come off of her in the process. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole!” she shouted.

I looked over her naked body one last time. I had to admit, I was going to miss those tits and that perfect ass. “Better to be a fuckin’ asshole than an asshole gettin’ fucked.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed. I gave her a quick grin before making my exit, just as I heard her heave what sounded like a very heavy object at the closed door, which I’m sure was intended for my head. While I stood in the hallway and waited for the elevator, I pulled out my phone and texted my sister-in-law back.

Hope, did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite sister-in-law?

Her reply came through just as I stepped into the elevator and hit the L button.

I’m your
only
sister-in-law.

What’s your credit card number and how much do you want to spend?

I pulled out my credit card and punched the numbers into my phone. “Happy birthday, Mom,” I said, leaning my head on the elevator wall. When I stepped out and into the lobby, I instinctively reached for my sunglasses on top of my head, only to find that they weren’t there. Somehow, I didn’t think that the bright August sunlight streaming through the window and my throbbing head would mesh too well. After last night, I couldn’t even imagine where they were. I was surprised that I actually still had my wallet on me.
Oh, well. Another pair bites the dust.
Too bad they had to be my favorite two hundred dollar pair of Oakley’s.

I squinted as I stepped outside. It felt like it was a hundred degrees already and it was only a little after seven.

“Hey, Mr. McAdams. Are you putting out any fires today?” Jeffrey, the doorman for Delia’s apartment building, asked.

“No, but I think I may have started one on the top floor.” I smirked.

He shook his head and smirked back. I could tell that he was doing his best to hold back his laughter. I was pretty sure that he was up to speed on all the dirt of the tenants in the building. “Have a good one, Jeffrey,” I said as I hailed down a cab with nothing else on my mind except my own bed and being passed out cold in it within the next twenty minutes.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
“No, it’s not. It’s just a continuation of the same miserable one you’ve been living for the past thirty years,” I whispered as I looked at the sign hanging on the cafeteria wall.

“Hey, Gabby Gabs. What’s going on?” Rochelle asked, placing her tray down on the table and taking the seat across from me.

“Oh, let’s see. Two-and-a-half hours of changing Jasper Hoch’s dressing and having him scream in pain. You would think that after seven years of doing this, it would get a little easier to deal with.”

She looked at me sympathetically. “It never gets easier, honey, especially when it’s a child.”

I sighed heavily and looked out the window. I loved my job, I really did, but working at the Burn Unit of NY Memorial Hospital was mentally draining. I formed such a deep bond with my patients and I hated to see any of them in pain. It was rewarding in its own way, like when I would watch one of them walk out of here, healed and smiling. It made all of the countless nights that I would spend sitting by their side and comforting them through their pain, and the hours that I would spend changing their dressing in a ninety degree plus room because their skin was so sensitive to the cold all worthwhile.

Many of these patients had become an extended family to me and I still checked up on them from time to time. They helped fill the void in my life for my lack of my own family. My mother and I talked only when necessary. She was so consumed with her husband and his wealth that there was very little time for me in her life. Not that there was ever much time in her life for me
before
she had married him. She always made it clear to me, in an indirect and sometimes very direct manner, that I was a mistake and a cramp in her ability of climbing up the Manhattan social ladder. She was never in love with my father and was forced into marrying him when she became pregnant with me. My dad was the one that would care for me when I was sick. The one that would attend all of my school functions. The one that made sure that I never missed out on anything in my childhood.

When he passed away, I knew that I was on my own. I kept my promise to him and went to college and even though I was happy to be away in Florida, putting some much needed distance between me and my mother, I sill missed New York. So, after graduation, I came back, got my job, and met Evan, my boyfriend…or roommate, which seemed to be more fitting these days. I wasn’t happy with where I was with my life, by any means. I was thirty-years-old, had a ticking biological clock, and was in a dead end relationship with a man who was starting to treat me just as badly as my mother did. I was feeling pretty much trapped, not able to afford an apartment on my own in the city. So this job, my co-workers, and my patients became my family. They were the reason that I looked forward to getting out of bed each morning. It was ironic that my job, the same thing that so many would complain about, was the one and only thing that I felt like I had to look forward to.

“Well, I’m working a double tonight. So my day hasn’t even begun,” I said to Rochelle as I took a sip of my water.

“Girl, you are crazy! Why would you subject yourself to that?”

Why?
Do I tell her the truth?
Evan was coming home from a week long business trip and I really didn’t feel like seeing him. Not to mention that I would more than likely have to do my dutiful girlfriend role and have sex with him, which was quickly becoming a chore.

“Oh, Callie asked me if I could work for her.”

“Again? And when were you planning on telling me this? That girl needs to learn that when she’s on the schedule, she needs to work and not find someone else to do it for her!” Rochelle said, raising her voice a bit. 

Rochelle was the nursing supervisor. She ran a tight ship, but she had to in order to make things flow smoothly. I loved her to pieces. She was my “work mom”. Oh, who was I kidding? She was the only type of mom that I had. Period.

“She called before you got here. I told her that I would tell you.”

Rochelle shook her head. “She knows the rules. She is supposed to speak to me directly.”

“Well, don’t get mad at her. If you’re going to get mad at anyone, get mad at me. I told her it was okay.”

The scowl on Rochelle’s face slowly turned to a smile. “Well, I could never get mad at you, Gabs. You are my best worker.”

“Oh, Rochelle. I don’t care what everyone else says about you. You
can
be sweet!” I teased.

“Girl, I wouldn’t go
that
far!”

We both began to laugh and finished up eating. I went into the locker room and grabbed my cell phone. I needed to text Evan and at least let him know that I wouldn’t be home tonight. Not that he even cared. The only thing that he would remotely be concerned with would be the fact that he wasn’t going to be getting any.

Working a double. Won’t be home tonight. There’s leftover chicken in the fridge.

I sat down on the bench in the locker room, awaiting his reply as the self-pity began to take over once again.
How did you get to this point in your life, Gabby? You should be with someone that you love and that loves you back.
What those little voices in my head failed to recognize was that finding a good guy, even a halfway decent guy, was hard to come by these days, especially one that could help you split the rent. I looked down at my vibrating phone to read his text message that had just come through.

Whatever.

Halfway decent guy
. Evan was slowly losing even
that
title and falling into the
someone to split
the rent
category.

I finally rolled out of bed when I could no longer ignore the fact that I had to piss like a racehorse. After going into the bathroom and pissing for what seemed like an eternity, I headed in to the kitchen and grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge. I couldn’t get to the kitchen sink fast enough to spit it out after taking a swig and realizing that it was sour. Picking up my phone, I saw that it was filled with texts and voicemails that I didn't feel like dealing with at the moment. Ignoring all of them, I dialed my mom's number. I was hoping for the answering machine because I didn't feel like being grilled by her about my personal life. After the third ring, I was pretty sure that I was in the clear.

“Hello?”
Shit, even worse, it was my dad.

“Hey, Dad. It’s Will.”

“Oh, nice of you to finally call at four-thirty in the afternoon and wish your mother a happy birthday.”

And here we fuckin’ go!
“Yeah, well, sorry. I’ve been kinda busy with work today.”
What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Yeah, well, it takes two minutes to call your mother and wish her a happy birthday. I’m sure you could have done that in between putting out fires.”

What the fuck?!
“Dad, I didn’t call to get into it with you or even talk to you, for that matter. Could you please just put Mom on the phone?”

I listened to the silence on the other end as he went to get my mother. “Will, thank you so much for the beautiful flowers, honey,” my mother said when she finally came to the phone.  “They made my entire day and you remembered that Gerber Daises are my favorite!”

What the fuck were Gerber Daisies?
“Oh, you’re welcome. Did you do anything special today?” I asked.

“No, not really. We’re going out to dinner with Jamie and Hope tonight. I wish you were able to come. It would have been so nice to have all of my children with me on my birthday.”