Love and Friendship

Mrs. Hart, Leslie and I were sitting in the cafeteria of the hospital about three days after the accident. Mr. Hart was on the mend, but he was still in critical care. I am no medical genius, but I knew that a when someone had internal bleeding and liver damage, things could get ugly quickly. Luckily, they had found the bleed early, and stopped it quickly. The liver thing was a bit touchier. I don’t know what the whole ideal was, but he was recovering from some symptoms of jaundice. His color was returning and he looked less like a carrot. Honestly, the best thing was his spirit. He did not seem down at all considering...

“Mrs. Hart, do you want anything? A coffee? Tea? Water?” I felt helpless, but wanted to help.

“Kathleen, sweetie, you’ve asked me 4 times since we sat down at this table 15 minutes ago. I’m fine.” She was annoyed, but she grinned. She knew it came from a sweet place.

Leslie gave me a weak smile. “Mom, don’t feel guilty. I can see it on your face. This isn’t your fault.”

Then, for the first time since we’d gotten there, Mrs. Hart lost her cool. She bawled. She wracked her whole body in big, ugly, crocodile tears. This, this I could handle. This was what I expected.

She croaked. “Girls...” She sobbed again. “He called me moments before. I yelled at him for making dinner cold. I told him he loved those men at the country club more than me. I was mad. So mad. And that could have been the last memory we had...” She cried again.

Leslie began to speak, but I stopped her. “Mrs. Hart, I’ve known you for very little time at all, and what I know is that you and your husband love each other. I know you’ve got countless happy, angry, sad, hopeful, hopeless, joyful, and scary memories with your husband. I also know he wouldn’t trade any of it. You are what I hope to have. I hope one day that I find a man who makes me the strong woman you are. You are blessed, and for that you should be thankful. For his health you should be thankful. For his life, your children, your home, your happiness, you should be thankful.”

She hugged me in the sweetest, most sincere way. Just then Luke walked in with Mark. Mark nudged me. “I need to get this lady back to school. She certainly wouldn’t tell you, but she’s got a test tomorrow.”

Mrs. Hart looked horrified that I’d spent the last six hours with her instead of studying. “It’s art history... I can BS it if I need to.” I winked at her. My attention shifted to Leslie. “Call me if you need me. I’m going to chapter tomorrow, and I’ll email you the minutes, OK? Oh! That reminds me! Mrs. Hart, my pledge class wanted to cook you and Mr. Hart dinner when you got back home. Please send me a list of your allergies. I know you’re allergic to strawberries, but I can’t remember the other stuff.”

She nodded, and Mark scooped me off before I could even bother with a proper goodbye. I cocked my head at him, somewhat angrily. “What’s with all the shoving, Pushy?”

He sweetly held my hand. “I heard the sweet things you said to my mom and I wanted to show you how much I appreciated it. And I figured jumping your bones in the hospital cafeteria was poor form. So, I’ll do that when I get to the car...” He winked.

“I do need to study. How about Saturday we spend the day with your parents, and that night I take you out for a fancy dinner. Just you and me. And we can do stuff you want, like play cards, and talk about the Dodgers or whatever." He wasn’t a Dodgers fan, but I was just letting him know we could do whatever he wanted.

He laughed. “Wow. My girlfriend doesn’t even know I’m a Giants fan...”

I made a weird face and then grinned. “I love you despite your inequities.” He play punched me.

That night I studied with Yvonne in the library. She had a psychology midterm. She and Rich were so consumed with being “boyfriend and girlfriend” that I hadn’t seen her in a while. I missed our nights in. Harriett was kind of back and forth, and I couldn’t keep up with her saga with Chet, so I just waited for her to say stuff to me about him. I stopped asking when I asked how the butthead was, and she told me they were working on things. What was to work on? He was a snob.

Yvonne told me while we were studying that she and Rich still hadn’t consummated their relationship. I just assumed they had since she’d been staying over at his place pretty frequently. She said she was holding out until he said, “I love you.” I told her that was her prerogative and I was proud of her for keeping up her standards. I couldn’t do it though. Some guys never said I love you. She could be waiting FOREVER!

Before we left the library to go take a nap (it was 3am and we both had our tests at 9:30) she asked about Mark’s dad and how Mark was holding up. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that he wracked himself to sleep with tears the first few nights or that he had nightmares constantly of car crashes and that he now drove 15 miles below the speed limit at all times. He would be embarrassed if people knew. I said he was coping. But honestly, it was taking a toll on me. I was exhausted. I love him. A lot. But it’s hard to be the rock. It’s hard to have your boyfriend so shaken up. He’s supposed to be the strong one. And now that he isn’t, I’m a butthead for not being understanding. I play this out in my head. And I always end up the jerk. The only solution I can come up with where I’m not going to end up as a total ass clown is me suggesting therapy to grieve his dad’s injuries and overcome his fear. But even then, it still might make me out to be a jerk...

Whatever, I’ve got Rococo artists to worry about. I can deal with a moody boyfriend later. I hope.