Maybe in Another Life (13 page)

I nod. “Exactly.”

Ethan starts driving. We think for a minute, and then I’m convinced I’ve got it. “Charlemagne,” I say. “She’s little Charlemagne.”

“Charlemagne was a man,” Ethan says. “Does that matter?”

“But doesn’t it sort of sound more like a woman’s name?”

Ethan laughs. “Now that you mention it, yes. All right, well, there you go, Charlemagne it is. Tomorrow, Charlemagne, we’re going to find your owner and make someone very happy. But tonight you belong with us.”

When we get through the front door of Ethan’s apartment, I finally let her go. She immediately starts running around, zipping
through the rooms. We watch her, stunned by her energy, until she finally gets a running start and jumps onto the bed. She curls up in the corner.

“I can’t keep her,” he says to me. “Not that you’re saying you think I should, I just . . . want to be clear about that. I can’t have pets in my building.”

I shake my head. “No, I know. We’ll find her real owners tomorrow. Maybe I’ll take a bus to a vet first thing.”

“I can give you my car,” he says. “I could get a ride from someone.”

“It’s OK,” I say. “Since I’m going to take this job with Carl, I have to get a car anyway. I’ll turn her in at the vet in the morning and then maybe take a cab or a bus to a few dealerships, see about buying a car.”

“You’re taking a job,” he says. “You’re buying a car.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“You’re putting down roots.”

“I guess I am.”

He smiles at me, holding my gaze much longer than necessary. “With a dog in the bed, I’m guessing we’re not gonna get busy,” he jokes.

“Probably not.”

He shrugs. “Well,” he says, his eyes focused on me, “I guess this relationship will have to be about more than just sex. Are you OK with that?”

I smile. I can’t help myself. “I suppose I could focus on your mind for once.”

He laughs and takes off his shirt. He unzips his pants and flings them onto a chair. “This is as unsexy as I get,” he says. “Now, I know it’s still really sexy, but . . .”

“I’ll try to control myself,” I say.

“That’d be best.”

Ethan pulls back the covers and gets into bed wearing just his boxers. I undress and pick up his T-shirt from the floor. I slip it over my shoulders and get in next to him.

“You’re not sexy at all,” Ethan says. “Not one bit.”

“No?” I ask doubtfully.

“Pssh, if you think I’m thinking about how great your breasts look in my T-shirt, you are dead wrong. Not having sex with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

I laugh and curl up into him. Charlemagne is nestled somewhat in the middle. We can barely fit, the three of us. But we make it work.

“Oh, wait,” I say just as Ethan turns out the light. “Turn the light back on.”

“OK?” he says, and he does.

I hop out of bed and find the list I made earlier this afternoon. I grab a pen and cross out “Get a job.”

I hold it up for him. “Only two more to go.”

“Ugh,” he says, looking at me. “Please get your legs underneath the covers where I can’t see them. They’re even nicer than your boobs.”

I
wake up at around two in the afternoon to an unexpected treat.

“Surprise!” Tina says as she and Carl walk into the room. Gabby trails in behind them with an apologetic look on her face. Tina has brought a vase full of some of the nicest flowers I’ve ever seen.

Flowers, flowers, flowers. Would it kill someone to bring me chocolates?

“They made me promise not to warn you,” Gabby says.

Carl rolls his eyes and comes closer to me. “Surprises are better,” he says. He leans down and hugs me lightly. Tina is right behind him. As he moves out of the way, she takes position. She smells like vanilla.

“Thank you both for coming.”

“Are you kidding?” Tina says. “Gabby has had to hold us back from visiting sooner. If I had my druthers, I’d have been here days ago and not left the room.”

She puts the vase of flowers on the table, next to the others.

Carl sits himself right down in the chair next to me. “How are you?” he says. He looks at me intently, with compassion, sympathy, and expertise. I’m not sure if he’s asking as a friend, a father figure, or a physician.

“I’m OK,” I say.

“Try to move your toes for me,” he says, looking intently at the foot of the bed.

“Dad!” Gabby says. “You’re not her doctor. Dr. Winters has been doing a fabulous job.”

“You can’t have too many doctors looking at a patient,” Carl says. “Hannah, try to move your toes.”

I don’t want to try to move my toes.

“Later, Dad,” Gabby says. “OK? You’re making Hannah uncomfortable.”

“Hannah, am I making you uncomfortable?”

What am I supposed to say to that?
Yes, you’re making me uncomfortable
? Actually, screw it, yes, life is too short to go around lying.

“Yeah,” I say. “A little. It’s hell being in this bed, dealing with this body right now. I’d love to just forget about my toes for a few minutes.”

Carl looks me in the eye and then nods and looks at Gabby. He puts his hands up. “My apologies! We’ll put it on the back burner.” I think he’s done, but then he speaks up again. “Just make sure you’re giving that doctor a challenge now and again. Make sure she’s working hard for you, has you as a priority.”

“Will do,” I say. When he winks at me, I wink back.

“So,” Tina says, “has Gabby told you about our dog, Barker? I’m completely in love with this guy. Anywhere I go, I insist that people look at pictures.”

She moves toward me with her cell phone and gives Gabby a smile. She doesn’t care about me looking at Barker. She is trying to change the subject so Carl doesn’t keep going.

“I keep trying to persuade Gabby to get a Saint Bernard just like him,” Tina says as she swipes through picture after picture of Barker in various rooms of their house.

“I know,”
Gabby says, “but Mark’s allergic to dogs. It’s a whole thing.”

We talk for a while, catching up on what I’ve been up to, what they’ve been up to, the three of us making fun of Gabby. And then they start to head out. I appreciate that they came but aren’t staying long. They seem to understand perfectly the toll that being around other people can take on someone in the hospital.

“When you get out of here,” Tina says, “and you’re feeling up for it, I want to talk to you about a lawsuit.”

“A lawsuit?”

Tina looks to Gabby for permission to continue talking, and Gabby subtly grants it.

“Gabby has filled me in on the situation with the person who hit you, and I talked to a friend of mine who is an ADA.”

I don’t know whether to be ashamed or proud of the fact that I know that an ADA is an assistant district attorney because of all the
Law & Order
I’ve been watching.

“OK,” I say.

“They have the woman who hit you. She’s being charged with a hit-and-run.”

“Well, that’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” Carl says, nodding. “Very good.”

“But we wanted to put something in your head. Your medical bills are going to be significant,” Tina says. “I’m sure you’ve spoken to your parents about this, and we don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but we want you to know that we will help you, if you need help paying for them.”

“What?” I say.

“Only if you need it,” Carl says. “We just want you to know that we’re here, as a resource, if you need us.”

“And,” Tina says, “we will help
you file a lawsuit against this woman if that’s what you decide to do.”

I’m overwhelmed by the generosity and thoughtfulness of the Hudsons. “Wow,” I say. “I’m . . . I don’t know what to say.”

Tina grabs my hand. “Don’t say anything. It was just important to us that you knew. We will always have your back.”

“As far as we’re concerned, you’re an honorary Hudson,” Carl says. “But you already know that, right?”

I look at him and nod, with full honesty.

Carl and Tina go to the door, and Gabby walks them out. When she gets back into the room, I’m staring at the ceiling, trying to process all of it. I hadn’t thought about medical bills. I hadn’t thought about the person who did this to me.

Someone
did this
to me.

Someone is to blame.

Someone made me lose the baby I didn’t know I had.

“You OK?” Gabby asks.

I look at her. I shake it off. “Yeah,” I say. “I am. Your parents are . . . I mean, they’re . . . they’re incredible.”

“They love you,” Gabby says, sitting down in the chair.

“Do you really think I should sue?”

Gabby nods. “Yeah,” she says. “No doubt about it.”

“I’m not the suing type,” I say, although what do I think that means, exactly?

“I saw it happen, Hannah. That lady hit you while you were in the crosswalk with a walk signal. There was no mistaking what happened. She knew she hit someone. And even then, she did not stop. She kept driving. So knowing that this woman drove away from the scene of a crime that could have been deadly, knowing that she made no attempt to help you or call an ambulance, I think she deserves not just to go to jail but
also to make personal amends for what she has done.” Gabby’s angry. “If you ask me, she can go fuck herself.”

“Jesus, Gabby.”

She shrugs. “I don’t care how it sounds. I hate her.”

For a moment, I try to put myself in Gabby’s shoes. She watched me get hit by a car. She watched me fall to the ground. She watched me pass out. And she probably thought I might die right there in front of her. And suddenly, I hate that woman, too. For putting her through that. For putting me through this. For all of it.

“OK,” I say. “Will you look into it? Or, I mean, tell your mom that I said it was OK?”

“Sure,” she says.

“It’s a shame
Law & Order
doesn’t cover civil suits. Then I’d probably be so well versed in it I could represent myself.”

Gabby laughs and then gets up as she sees my parents and Sarah come in. Sarah is dressed in black linen pants with a cotton T-shirt and a gauzy sweater. Even if she didn’t have a suitcase with her, you’d know she was headed to the airport.

“All right,” Gabby says, kissing me on the cheek. “You’re in good company. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She hugs my family and takes off.

My family didn’t tell me they were flying back to London today, so it’s a bit of a surprise. But if I’m being completely honest, it’s also an immense relief. I love my family. It’s just that having them around takes energy I simply don’t have right now. And the idea of spending tomorrow without having to entertain company, just Gabby and myself, feels as close to a good day as I’m going to get.

“You guys are off?” I ask. My tone is appropriately sorrowful. I make an effort not to allow my inflection to go up at
the end of the question, weighing it down so the words stay even.

My mom sits down next to me. “Just Sarah is, honey,” she says. “Your father and I aren’t going anywhere.”

I can feel my smile turn to a frown, and I catch myself. I smile wider. I am a terrible daughter, wanting them to go. “Oh, cool,” I say.

Sarah leaves her suitcase by the door and comes around to the other side of me. My father is looking up at the TV.
Jeopardy!
is on.

“I’m so sorry I have to leave,” Sarah says. “I’ve already taken so much time off, and I can’t miss any more. I’ll lose my part.”

“Oh, it’s totally fine,” I tell her. “I’m going to be fine. There’s no need for anyone to stay.”

Hint.

“Well, your mother and I certainly aren’t leaving anytime soon,” my dad says as he finally pulls his attention away from the TV. “We’re not leaving our little Hannah Savannah while she’s still healing.”

I smile, unsure what to say. I wonder if he still calls me Hannah Savannah, as if I were a child, because he really only knows me as a child. He doesn’t know me very well as an adult. Maybe it’s his way of convincing himself I haven’t changed much since they left for London, as if time stood still and he didn’t miss anything.

“My flight leaves in a few hours, but I still have time to hang out for a little bit,” Sarah says.

Jeopardy!
begins Double Jeopardy, and my dad takes a seat, enraptured.

We all listen as one of the contestants chooses the topic “Postal Abbreviations.”

“Ugh, so boring,” Sarah says.

I wish they would change the channel. I don’t want to watch
Jeopardy!
I want to watch
Law & Order.

Alex Trebek’s voice is unmistakable. “This Midwestern state is the only one whose two-letter postal abbreviation is a preposition.”

At this, my father throws his hand up and says, “Oregon!”

My mother shakes her head. “Doug, they said Midwestern. Oregon is in the Pacific Northwest.”

I’m tempted to mention that
or
is not a preposition, but I don’t.

“What is Indiana?” the contestant answers.

“That is correct.”

My father slaps his knee. “I was close, though.”

He wasn’t close. He wasn’t close at all. He’s so clueless sometimes. He’s so absolutely clueless.

“Yeah, OK, Dad,” Sarah says.

And the way she says it, the effortlessness of their interactions, as if they are all comfortable saying whatever comes into their own heads, highlights how out of place I feel in my own hospital room when they are here.

I just . . . can’t do this. I don’t want my family to stay here with me. I want to be left in peace, to heal.

I’m supposed to take it easy in the hospital. I’m supposed to rest. But being with them is not easy, and this is not rest.

Sarah’s car is ready to take her to the airport shortly after
Jeopardy!
ends. She grabs her bag and comes over to me, hugging me gently. It’s a halfhearted hug, not because she doesn’t mean it but because I can’t really hug anyone at the moment.

Then she turns to my parents. She hugs them each good-bye.

“You have your passport accessible?” my mom asks her.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“And George is picking you up at Heathrow?” my dad asks.

“Yeah.”

There’s a stream of questions about logistics and
Did you remember
type things, followed by
I’ll miss yous
and
I love yous
all around.