by Desiree Hart
"Thank you, sweetie." Touched, I took him into my arms and held him tight.
I cried myself to sleep that night.
For days afterward, I did my best to avoid running into Mischa. I took different routes in and out of the hospital and tried to stay away from the places where I knew he liked to hang out. For several weeks I was lucky. Then came the night everything changed.
I was working in the emergency room when several paramedics burst in with a stretcher. "A security guard was beaten and knifed in the parking lot!" one of them shouted.
As the stretcher whizzed past, I was able to see the victim's face and, to my utter shock, saw that he was Mischa. His face was as white as a sheet, and his eyes were closed. Right away several of my co-workers began working on him, hooking him up to IV's and various machines.
Irresistibly, my eyes were drawn to the stack of bloody clothing that had been hurriedly cut from Mischa's body. I noticed that his pants were on top. Seemingly of their own accord, my legs made their way over to the pile, and I reached for the pants.
In one pocket I found his wallet, which contained several dollar bills, some change, and his driver's license, on which I saw his real name, Mikhail Ivanovich Pushkin. The wallet also contained a couple of condoms still in their wrappers and an empty condom wrapper. He's sleeping with her. The realization cut like a knife as involuntary tears sprang to my eyes. He'd never even so much as made a pass at me.
Hurriedly I stuffed everything back into the wallet and the wallet back into Mischa's pants pocket. I suddenly felt as if I were suffocating. Desperate for fresh air, I raced for the emergency room exit and dashed out into the cool night air, which I greedily inhaled in grateful gulps.
Who on earth would do a thing like that to a nice guy like Mischa? I asked myself. Robbery obviously hadn't been the motive, as his wallet with the money in it had still been in his pocket. As it turned out, I didn't have to wait very long at all for the answer.
Rounding a corner, I saw a couple of fellow nurses standing underneath a tree smoking cigarettes. One was Tina, and the other was a woman named Debbie. Pretending to be busy tying my shoe laces, I could hear every word they said.
"I never dreamed he'd do a thing like this!" Tina exclaimed. "I never would have messed with Mischa if I had!"
"Well, at least your little scheme worked!" Debbie chuckled. "It made him jealous, all right!"
"Don't laugh!" Tina was almost shouting. "What if Mischa dies?"
"Then it'll mean a murder rap," Debbie said uneasily. "I guess you'll just have to visit him in prison then, and hope it's one that provides conjugal rights."
"It better had!" Both women laughed.
Sick to my stomach, I made it to the nearest trash can just in time. I waited until my stomach settled and then returned to duty.
Mischa didn't regain consciousness for the rest of my shift. When it was over, I returned home with very mixed feelings about what had just happened. As cruel as it might have seemed, a part of me felt glad that Tina had been just using Mischa. I am only human, after all. Another part of me worried that Mischa might not make it. If he did, I didn't know what I should do. Should I just ignore him, pretend that he didn't exist, try to find someone else to fall for? No, I didn't think I could do that. Yet hadn't he made it clear that it was over between the two of us? How could what had happened with Tina change that?
Exhausted, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I forgot to set the alarm, and so Sage was late for kindergarten the next morning. I had to drive him there myself and sign him in. Then I took Meadow to the park for a couple of hours, went to McDonald's for lunch, and then went back home to take a nap.
The sitter arrived at two thirty, and I left for the hospital, wondering what condition I'd find Mischa in when I got there.
Chapter 3
I
arrived at the hospital to find that Mischa's condition hadn't changed. All his vital signs were stable, but he was still unconscious. I gazed at him lying there so still, hooked up to all those machines. Would he ever laugh or smile again? If he did ever regain consciousness, would he even remember who he was, who the people around him were? The thought of the man I'd once dreamed of sharing my life with lying in bed a vegetable was simply too much for me to take.
I was eating lunch outside when I saw Tina walking past and suddenly felt furious. The man whom I'd found myself falling in love with could be brain damaged for life, and it had all been for the sake of a childish game of trying to make her real boyfriend jealous. I was so angry I could barely see as I ran to her and yanked her hair so hard that I pulled her onto the ground.
"Hey!" she protested. "What did I ever do to you?"
"If Mischa Pushkin dies, it will all be your fault!" I shouted as I pummeled her over and over again. "It will be just as if you'd killed him yourself!"
"I had nothing whatsoever to do with what happened to Mischa Pushkin, you crazy bitch!" she shrieked.
"Liar!" I screamed, scratching her face, trying to claw her eyes. "I heard what you told Debbie!"
"Hey!" A couple of security guards came over to us and separated us.
Even after I explained to the hospital administrators what I knew about what Tina had done to Mischa, I still ended up suspended from work for a week...without pay.
Wondering how on earth I'd get the bills paid and buy groceries now, I drove back home to my children. I sent Penny home. Meadow was taking a nap, so I had some time to think for awhile before Sage got home from kindergarten.
Although Tina had clearly deserved it, and worse, I had to admit that my actions had been impulsive and childish. I'd let my feelings for Mischa momentarily derail my common sense. I'd never before been in the slightest bit of trouble at work, not even a reprimand, and here I'd gone and risked losing my job over a man who probably didn't even deserve it, considering how he'd treated me.
Meadow had awakened, and her soft babbling roused me out of my pool of remorse and self-blame. "Mama!" she cried happily when she saw me.
"Hey, sweetie!" I greeted her, lifting her from her crib and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.
It was almost time to pick Sage up from the bus stop, so I changed Meadow's diaper and put her in her car seat and drove to the end of the street. A few minutes later, a small bus pulled up and opened its door, and Sage stepped down holding a giant letter 'E' cut from red construction paper.
"Mommy, you're home!" he cried happily when he saw me.
"That's right!" I said with a smile. "I have a vacation from the hospital, so I get to spend more time with you and your sister this week."
"Hurray!" he exclaimed. "We learned about the letter 'E' today, Mommy."
"That's nice," I mumbled.
"Elephant, elephant," he sang all the way home.
Despite my distress over the loss of income and my concern over Mischa, I managed to enjoy a relaxing evening with my children. We watched Sesame Street and Barnie together, and I made meatloaf and macaroni and cheese for dinner. Then I gave them their baths, read them bedtime stories, and tucked them into bed. Watching television alone later, I was left to wonder what on earth I was going to do with myself for a week.
✽✽✽
Upon my return to work a week later, the first thing I did was to inquire about Mischa. I was told that he'd regained consciousness and been moved to a private room.
I debated whether or not to visit him for only a moment. Curiosity over what condition I'd find him in quickly overcame my hesitation. My heart was pounding as I slowly opened the door to his hospital room to find him awake and sitting up in bed, watching television.
As soon as he saw me, his face turned bright crimson and he looked down. "Hello, Tracy," he mumbled.
Awkwardly I sat down in a chair beside his bed. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you." I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"It wasn't your fault," he muttered. "It was mine. I've been sitting here wonde
ring to myself how in the world I could have been so stupid."
"So you know." I was immensely relieved that I wouldn't have to be the one to tell him.
"Yeah," he said softly. "They caught the guy. I'm probably gonna have to testify at his trial, even though I can't remember a thing. One minute I was just standing there minding my own business, and the next I was waking up here with one hell of a headache."
"What about Tina?"
He sighed heavily. "They told me she quit." He sounded as if he were about to cry. "Are you all right, Tracy?"
"What do you mean, am I all right?" Suddenly I felt very angry at him. "First you string me along and then dump me for that slut, and then you nearly get yourself killed!" By now I was almost crying myself.
"I'm sorry, Tracy." His eyes didn't meet mine. "I never meant to hurt you. It's just that the whole substitute father thing started making me feel overwhelmed. Tina didn't have any responsibilities. With her, I could just have fun and not have to worry about anything. I never even realized how immature and selfish I was being. Can you ever forgive me?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "You hurt me pretty badly, Mischa."
"I know I did, and I'm really sorry!" In his eyes I could see the agony he felt, but I wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook. Not just yet, at least.
"Perhaps we could be friends," I suggested. "We did kind of rush into things, didn't we?"
"I'd be more than happy to be friends with you, Tracy," he told me. "How are the kids?"
"They're all right. Sage is doing good in school. Meadow's growing fast."
"They're great kids, Trace. You're lucky to have them, and they're lucky to have you for a Mom."
"So how much longer do you have to stay here?" I asked.
"Not much longer, hopefully." He smiled for the first time since I'd entered his room. "They just have to make sure all the wounds are healed and there's no permanent damage."
"I'm really glad you're OK now, Mischa," I said softly. "It scared me to death when they brought you in here. I was so afraid...so afraid you wouldn't make it. And then when I found out what Tina had done, it just made me sick to my stomach!"
"Well, I guess I sure learned my lesson there." He chuckled ruefully.
I thought about the condoms I'd found in his pants pocket and suddenly imagined him making love with Tina, their bodies entwined in the act of copulation, the ecstasy on their faces. Suddenly I wondered what kind of lover Mischa was. I hadn't been with a man since Jeff had died. I missed having a sex life, but I wasn't the kind of woman to just have sex for its own sake. I was willing to wait until I felt a special connection with a man first, and I was disappointed that Mischa apparently didn't share my values.
"Yes, I slept with her," he told me, as if he could read my mind. "But it wasn't my idea. She came onto me hard and strong, even did a strip tease right in front of me where she took everything off. A man can only take so much, you know."
I stared coldly at the wall, not saying a word.
"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't enjoy it at all," he continued. "It just felt so...unnatural, forced, as if it was something I had to do to make her happy. Not at all like I imagine it would be with you."
"My, aren't we getting presumptuous," I said sarcastically.
"You're right, Tracy. I'm sorry. I had no right to say that."
"And I'm sorry I snapped at you," I said. "I didn't mean to sound so defensive."
"You have every right to be defensive," he replied. "You've just been hurt."
"Yeah," I said softly. We just sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, neither of us sure what to say next.
Mischa finally broke the silence. "Friends?" He smiled that charming smile of his and extended his hand.
"Friends." I knew I never could have stayed mad at him for very long.
✽✽✽
I visited him a couple more times after that. Both visits were brief but friendly, as we each stuck to non-serious topics. Then one day I went to his room and found that it was empty. The nurse on duty told me he'd gone home that morning.
Shortly afterward, he returned to his security guard position. I saw him frequently as I was entering or leaving the hospital, and he would always smile and nod in a friendly way. I saw him in the cafeteria a few times as well, but we never sat together. Once he looked at me for kind of a long time, as if he were longing to sit beside me but wasn't sure if it would be appropriate, then shook his head sadly and moved on. I almost felt sorry for him.
Soon it was time for Sage's kindergarten open house. I took off work and went with Sage and Meadow. It was a crisp fall evening, and the leaves were just beginning to turn red and yellow. I parked in the school parking lot, took Meadow's stroller out of the trunk, and strapped her into it. Then I walked with both kids to Sage's classroom.
Several of Sage's classmates with their parents were milling around in the classroom when I got there. Sage's teacher, Mrs. Edwards, smiled and said hello to us. She was a kindly middle-aged woman with short salt-and-pepper hair. She had grey eyes and wore spectacles and was dressed in red slacks and a red-and-yellow striped shirt.
"Your little sister is so precious!" she said to Sage. "What's her name?"
"Meadow," Sage told her.
"Oh, that's a lovely name!" she exclaimed. "Hi, Meadow!"
Meadow smiled at her but didn't say anything. "She's a little shy," I explained.
All along the wall, the children's artwork was on display. I looked over all the crayon-drawn depictions of the little old lady who lived in a shoe until I came to Sage's. He'd outlined the shoe in black and, rather than drawing stick figures as some of the other children had done, he'd given the woman and her half dozen or so children actual arms, legs, hair, and faces.
"Sage is doing extraordinarily well," Mrs. Edwards told me. "He can say all his ABC's and count to twenty, and he's also showing talent in both art and music. It's just a little hard to get him to settle down at nap time sometimes, and he also has a little trouble remembering to use his 'indoor voice' when he should, but we're working on that, aren't we, Sage?"
I was surprised to see that my friend Robin from high school was there with her husband and daughter. I hadn't seen her in several years.
"Tracy!" she called to me.
"Hi, Robin!" I said, giving her a quick hug. "I had no idea your little girl was in Sage's class!"
She laughed. "It's a small world, isn't it? This is my husband Brian and our daughter Camryn."
"This is Sage, and my daughter's name is Meadow," I told her.
"Your husband couldn't make it tonight?" she asked.
"I'm a widow," I told her.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" She looked terribly embarrassed.
"It's all right," I told her.
"So what do you do?" she asked me.
"I'm a nurse," I told her. "What do you do?"
"I'm a full time Mom for now," she told me. "But now that Camryn is in kindergarten, I'm trying to find something part time for in the mornings."
"Well, good luck," I told her. "If I hear of any openings at the hospital, I'll let you know."
"Thanks," she said.
I went home soon afterwards, idly wondering what it would be like to have the luxury of being a stay-at-home Mom.
✽✽✽
A delivery of flowers came for me the following day. Surprised but elated, I automatically assumed that they were from Mischa and couldn't wait to see him again so that I could thank him.
My chance came soon enough, as he was on duty the next time I went to work. "Mischa!" I called to him. "Thanks for the flowers!"
He looked baffled. "What flowers?"
"Didn't you have flowers delivered to me?"
"No." He grinned. "I wish it had been me, but it wasn't."
But if Mischa didn't send them, who did? I wondered. As it turned out, I didn't have to wonder for very long, as the next day I was headed for the
lunchroom when I heard someone calling my name from behind. "Tracy!"
I turned to see Bruce, one of the orderlies, running up to me. He hadn't been working at the hospital for very long, and I'd seen him around a few times but didn't know him very well. He was short and kind of pudgy, with dark brown hair and eyes and a baby face. I didn't find him attractive at all.
"Did you like the flowers?" he asked hopefully.
I gasped, shocked. "You were the one who sent the flowers?"
He nodded with a happy grin. Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach.
"Well...they were very nice. Thanks," I said politely, hoping that would get rid of him.
No such luck. "Say, would you like to go out to dinner with me this Friday night?" he asked me.
"I can't. I'm sorry," I replied.
"Aw, why not?" he whined like a child.
"I have plans," I told him.
"Well, you don't know what you're missing," he said.
I put the incident out of my mind and continued on with my business, giving it no more thought. That Saturday, Lisa and I went on a shopping excursion to this large outdoor mall in a neighboring town that was an hour's drive or so away. It was made up of lots of outlet stores, where you could find name brand clothing and other merchandise at bargain prices. Lisa and I went about once every six months or so, and I almost always came back with lots of great deals.
"So how did it go with Chris last night?" I asked Lisa as we rode along. Chris was the name of the guy she'd met the night I'd seen Mischa dancing with Tina.
"It went great!" she told me. "He took me to dinner and a movie, and then we went dancing." Her voice lowered conspiratorially. "He put his tongue in my mouth when he kissed me goodnight. I almost invited him in. I think I'm gonna end up sleeping with him soon."
"Well, you be careful," I cautioned her.
"I will, but I don't think I have anything to worry about with Chris," she told me. "So, how's your love life been?"
"Oh, I've gotta tell you!" I began. "Somebody sent me flowers last week, and I was sure it would turn out to be Mischa, but it wasn't. Guess who it was!"