Buggy Baby

by Liam Ward

  Amongst the girls that I worked with, Ron’s cancer was brought up a few times. There was talk of having a benefit for him and his family. One of the girls mentioned that Richard Widmore, the millionaire founder of Revolution Seating, was likely going to give the family a big chunk of money, as he had done so for other employees in the past.

  Between meeting Wayne and finding a possible way out of my mediocre job, it had been an exciting week for me. Probably the best week of the year, or more likely, the best week in a decade. Doors had opened on all fronts and I was eager to charge through them.

  Earlier in the day, I had talked to Josh about Ron’s departure. Josh was always flirty, which could get annoying, but he was intelligent and decent to talk to. He was one of the few people that remembered, or cared to remember, that I had a background in design. Per usual, he approached me in the breakroom.

  “You hear about Ron?” he asked.

  “Yea, that’s terrible. Is it supposed to be a secret?” I asked.

  “No, he’s been quite open about it. I guess he’s handling it alright. I feel bad for his kids. They’re all rather young,” Josh said. He filled his mug with coffee and replaced the carafe.

  “Oh no, that’s terrible,” I said.

  Josh let out a sigh, “Yea. I can’t imagine. Do you know him well?”

  “Not really. We’ve talked but I don’t see him around here often. He’s quiet,” I answered.

  “Yea, great guy. We’ve butted heads, but he has a strong vision. I think the department was expecting him to become the Senior Designer when Katsuro finally retires,” he said. Josh wasn’t a senior employee, but he was quite savvy and could tell which way the corporate winds were blowing.

  “How old is Katsuro? He has to be around retirement age.” I said.

  “He’s pushing it.” Josh cracked a smile. “You going to apply for the job?”

  I paused to think about how honest I should be. I had no reason not to trust Josh as he’d shown no signs of maliciousness in the past, but I didn’t want to come across as cold-hearted or insensitive. “Well, I’ve thought about it. Do you think they’d consider me for it? It’s been a few years since I did any design work. And I only designed cheap home décor products. Odd shaped trashcans and folding tables. Never anything for the aerospace industry. They probably want an actual engineer for it. Accredited.”

  “Really? I don’t know, I think they’d consider you. You came from a big enough company and they had standards too. I think they’ll have a hard time finding another designer in this area,” Josh said.

  “Do you know anyone in the department? Katsuro?” I asked.

  “Yea, not him, but I’ll ask around. But you can just email him and ask about the position. It couldn’t hurt,” Josh said. He was right.

  “Yea. I’ll probably give it a few days though,” I said.

  Josh grimaced and laughed. “Good point, don’t want to come off as callous.”

  “Right.” I began to turn my body, ready to exit the conversation. “Hope you have a great weekend,” I said.

  “You too,” Josh said and scrambled to say, “got any plans for tonight or the weekend?”

  I didn’t know for sure that he was about to ask me out, but I had a good feeling that he was. “Not really. I’m hanging out with a friend tonight. May visit my parents tomorrow. What about you?” I asked.

  Josh looked slightly deflated. He shook his head. “No, not really. There’s a craft beer fest in Traverse City that I might go check out, but I’ll need to find someone to go with. A couple of the dudes are going, but they’re bringing their wives and I’d be third wheeling it,” he said.

  “Maybe their girls will wingman you. Just have a few drinks and talk to people,” I said, trying to find a bright side.

  Josh took a deep breath. “Yea, I guess. That’s harder said than done though.”

  “You can figure it out. Plenty of single woman there and you’re cute enough,” I said.

  “Thanks,” Josh said, not looking too enthused.

  “Have a great weekend,” I said and returned to my desk.

  My resume was zipped up tight, desktop dusted, and inbox emptied. I had nothing but time to waste until I could punch out for the week, so I watched cooking tutorials. The last few hours ticked by slowly. I wanted to hurry home so that I could shave and shower before Wayne came over.

  I checked my phone but had no new texts. I had sent Wayne a text around lunch. He was usually quick to reply, so the lack of communication was slightly unsettling, but I figured that he was probably working on something around the farm.

  The afternoon advanced.

  3:23… only thirty seven more minutes.

  I got antsy and stood up to stretch. My lower back cracked as I reached for my toes. Thanks to yoga, I could almost touch my piggly wigglies.

  I sat back down.

  Still no text from Wayne.

  I risked seeming needy but decided to send him another text. Maybe he had forgotten about the first. Or maybe he was going to ghost me.

  Can’t wait to see you! Still want me to swing by around 6? I texted him.

  I left my phone open and dots appeared indicating that Wayne was typing. The minute crept by and Wayne was still typing.

  Many thoughts ran through my head. He’s going to say that he can’t make it. He’ll come up with an excuse, but really, he doesn’t want to be with an old hag like me. He probably wised up and listened to his parents; they had to be advocating for him to date a girl his age.

  After what seemed an eternity, the dots disappeared. Wayne was no longer typing. Maybe he was contemplating whether or not to hit send on the text. I couldn’t bear it.

  A message finally appeared and it was not at all what I had expected.

  This is Christine. We’re at the hospital with Wayne.

  Chapter Twenty - Mary

  Work was far behind me in a short amount of time. I sped out of the parking lot, peeling rubber from my wheels. On the open stretches of road, I moved well beyond the legal speed limit.

  Christine had sent a short follow up text saying, He’s not banged up too bad, but that didn’t do much to calm my nerves. I let her know that I was on my way and she indicated that they were on the fourth floor of the hospital’s recently built tower.

  Date night was certainly out of the question, but at least I wasn’t being dumped.

  The hospital’s parking lot was mostly empty. There weren’t a lot of visitors on a Friday afternoon as they probably had other plans.

  Automatic doors opened to a large, well-lit atrium, which was ringed by windows. A hard to miss sign pointed to the hospital’s various wings. For the new tower, I was to head down the hall to my right, which was notably more modern looking than the other halls. It was a short walk to the elevators.

  No one stood in front of the stainless steel elevator bank. I pressed the call button and waited, looking out the window. The green outside the window tinted the cold metal of the elevator bank. A chime signaled the arrival of the elevator. Inside, it smelled as if it had been freshly cleaned.

  It was a smooth ascent.

  The elevator doors opened. Directly ahead was a nurses’ station, which was abuzz with activity. Two nurses worked on computers while a third was talking to a woman in plain clothes, whom I assumed was a patient’s family member. I waited behind her for a moment until it was my turn to talk to the nurse.

  “Hi, are you looking for someone?” she asked. Her name badge read KARREN. Her appearance was quite different from the picture on her badge; the person before me looked more tired and lacked her enthusiastic first-day on the job smile.

  “Wayne Janson,” I said. His name still felt foreign in my mouth.

  KARREN looked at one of her two computer monitors. “He’s in 417, down this hall,” she said and pointed to my left.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Yup,” KARREN said.

  I had to stop myself from sprinting down the hospital hall. The hal
l was deserted, save for one cleaning supplies cart. The hallway didn’t feel clinical, it felt more like a modern, minimalist hotel; only the beeping of monitors and laminated safety bulletins indicated that it wasn’t.

  Wayne’s room was a little more than halfway down the hall. The room’s door was cracked open, but it looked dark inside. I gave a couple of light knocks and waited.

  “Come in,” a measured female voice said.

  I assumed it was Christine’s voice and opened the room’s door.

  The bed closest to the room’s entrance was empty and neatly made. In the other bed, blanket covered legs and feet were all I could see of Wayne. His upper body was hidden from view by a light blue drape, which was partially drawn across the middle of the room. Large windows were covered by blinds and none of the overhead lights were on. One lamp threw a candle’s worth of light onto the walls. Christine and Hannes were seated near the end of Wayne’s hospital bed.

  “I’m sure it’ll pass,” Hannes said quietly, finishing what he had been saying before I came in.

  “Hello,” I said, timidly advancing into the room.

  Christine gave me a pained half-smile. “It’s nice to see you. Wish it were over dinner instead,” she said.

  “No doubt,” I said.

  “Wayne hasn’t been feeling too good, but at least he’s alive. Other guy should be ashamed of himself for not stopping,” Hannes said.

  Around the curtain, Wayne came into sight. He was sitting upright with his head stuffed into a small trashcan. I could hear him dry heaving.

  “What do you mean he didn’t stop?” I asked. Wayne perked up a little at the sound of my voice and tried to lift his head from the trashcan, only to urgently tuck it back in. He gave a little wave with his free hand.

  My heart fluttered; Wayne was so damned cute.

  “The piece of filth ran Wayne off the road and kept going. Didn’t even stop to call an ambulance or see if Wayne was alright. They don’t care about us in buggies. It’s like they believe we’re playing pretend. Maybe they were texting and didn’t even notice that they almost killed him. Regardless, they probably need some sense beat into ‘em,” Hannes said. He was more animated than I had thought possible, but I couldn’t blame him.

  I saw it on the local news. Every year there were a few crashes involving a horse and buggy. Occasionally, like car crashes, these crashes were fatal. I can’t assign blame for these incidents, but I believe that the automobile drivers likely thought that they could treat the buggies like cars: passing too soon, following too close, honking.

  “Oh, my goodness,” I said, appalled by the other driver’s lack of humanity. “I could never imagine. Who called an ambulance?” I asked.

  “Somebody else that cared to stop. They stayed with him till the ambulance arrived,” Hannes said.

  “Good people,” Christine added.

  Wayne lifted his head from the bucket and smiled at me. “Sorry, it probably stinks in here,” he said.

  “It doesn’t. How’re you feeling?” I asked.

  Wayne grimaced. “Terrible. I’ve got a concussion. Apparently, it’s not as scary as it sounds, but they want me to stay to monitor it.” He was quite pale, but still handsome as hell. “A little nausea here and there. Dizzy. Bright lights are painful. But seeing your beautiful face here makes me feel better,” he said, looking me up and down in a lustful manner. It was nice to know that even when Wayne was in pain, he still wanted my body.

  I blushed. I had not expected to receive romantic attention from Wayne in front of his parents, but I’d take it. And give it.

  I moved next to Wayne’s bed and put my hands on his arm; I leaned over to give him a full view of my cleavage. He took the opportunity to fill his eyes. I hoped the arousal cut through his nausea.

  “I’m just happy to know that you’re alright,” I said. I could see that he had stiches where his forehead met his hairline. “Ouch, what is that… eight, nine, ten —”

  “Fourteen stitches,” he said.

  “Aww honey,” I said and planted a kiss on Wayne’s cheek.

  Now it was Wayne’s turn to blush.

  No protests from the parents: cool to proceed.

  “So, they ran you off the road?” I asked.

  Wayne’s eyes journeyed up my chest to meet mine. “It was raining hard and this damned car kept veering into my lane. So, I moved as far right as I could, but the car came over into our lane, really close to us, and spooked Roma. She ran a little too close to the ditch’s edge and we slipped in.”

  I hadn’t considered asking. “How’s Roma?”

  Wayne took a deep breath and let out a big sigh. “Thankfully, she seems to be alright. Got a big gouge near her front leg where she must have jumped on a stake or branch. The vet thinks that she might have a few fractured ribs and is going to x-ray her. Poor girl was frantic until they finally got her free of her harness. But she should be fine.”

  “It’s fucking miraculous,” Hannes said, surprising me with the F-bomb. Wayne’s parents weren’t as reserved as I had thought.

  “Hannes,” Christine said. It sounded as if reeling him in was a regular occurrence.

  “We got lucky,” Wayne agreed.

  Christine stood. “Alright. I’m going to head down to the cafeteria. Do you want me to pick you up something?” Christine asked Hannes.

  “Any sandwich will do. A fifth of bourbon if they have it,” Hannes said and grinned at me. Wayne mustered a weak chuckle.

  “Okay,” Christine said and looked at Wayne, “I know you don’t want to even think about food.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Wayne said. He stuck his arm out to check that the trashcan was still within reach.

  Christine stood.

  I took it as an opportunity to make inroads with Wayne’s mother. “Mind if I come with you?” I asked.

  Christine raised her eyebrows. “Not at all.”

  Chapter Twenty One - Wayne

  On the bright side, I didn’t have to share the hospital room with anyone. Near bedtime, the nausea subsided and my head quit spinning. My head and my neck still hurt, but I had slept well. It was the first time in at least five years that I hadn’t spent the night in my own bed. I awoke confused with a fleeting memory of a wild dream.

  Light didn’t bother me anymore, so I had the curtains open and watched the smallest amount of light creep into the morning sky. My father would be opening the chicken coop’s door for the girls, collecting eggs, and cooking Saturday morning breakfast for the family. It was the one time of the week that he cooked. Eggs fried in bacon grease. Yesterday’s bread smeared with preserves.

  A pretty nurse had stopped in once, asking me how I felt and if I needed anything.

  Mary. I needed her body and yearned for an opportunity to touch her. She hadn’t left my mind since she had visited. Damn, she had looked fine. The pain of missing out on a night with her was significantly worse than that of my crash.

  Her and my mother got along well, which was a relief.

  Discharge was sure to come this afternoon. With the buggy smashed up, my parents would swing by with the van and pick me up. Maybe Mary would want to come over. She had kissed me in front of my parents and they didn’t seem to mind, so maybe they’d be alright with her stopping by the house to help me recover, in my room.

  I was fully erect.

  6:23 a.m.

  The remote was within reach, but I decided against turning the tv on. My window provided a good view of the forest beyond the hospital. Red sunlight bounced off swaying green leaves. Not many days like these; winter creeps in far too soon in the north.

  The prior day’s nausea had prevented me from eating. I now wondered when I’d get breakfast. What was a hospital breakfast like? How much did it cost? The night’s stay and diagnostics could not be cheap and my family didn’t have health insurance. Like many other families in the Mennonite community, we had our own emergency savings for medical bills, and in times of extraordinary need, the community wo
uld band together to get bills paid. Community is important in our faith; we’re not living up to our potential if we don’t take care of each other. In many ways, it’s better than fighting with faceless corporations, hoping they’ll cover the bills. But I desired a job with insurance. Guilt over hurting myself and my family financially hung heavy around my neck.

  “Damnit,” I said to myself. Life can change on the head of a dime. Too bad I hadn’t stayed in the store a minute longer — I might not have crossed paths with someone so reckless. I wanted the police to catch the driver but thought that it was unlikely as there aren’t traffic cameras in the middle of nowhere.

  No matter. It was over and no one was too badly hurt.

  I gave in and turned the tv on. My browsing was interrupted when I heard a shuffling near my room’s door.

  Breakfast?

  I leaned forward to peak around the curtain.

  Mary materialized.

  “Good morning handsome,” she said, biting her bottom lip.

  “Wha… howdy there pretty lady,” I stumbled.

  Mary quietly closed the door and came to me. I was in disbelief that she was in my hospital room at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning. She looked fantastic; form fitting yoga pants and a green sweatshirt graced her body.

  This beautiful woman is here for me? Still hard to believe.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked, now at my bedside.

  “Much.” I put my hand on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

  “I felt bad that you didn’t get to come over last night. I wanted to come cheer you up,” she said.

  She grabbed my hand and moved it from her hip, to under her sweatshirt. Her skin was soft. My hand traveled upwards. I was delighted to find that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I wrapped my fingers around one of her beautiful boobs and squeezed it. I could feel her nipple harden against my palm.

  Holy smokes, I have to hold onto this one. What a sweetheart!

  “You think you’ll be out of here today?” Mary asked.

  Preoccupied with fondling her wonderful chest, I answered, “God I hope so.”