Maybe in Another Life

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

  Henry laughs. “And not my stunning good looks?”

  “My apologies. It was the second thing I noticed.”

  Henry pats his hand on my bed and stands up to leave. “Now I’m running late,” he says. “Look what you’ve done.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I mean, you should be apologizing to me, though. Distracting me from my much-needed rest.” I smile.

  He shakes his head. “You’re right. What was I thinking? A pretty girl asks me a question, and suddenly, I can’t keep track of the time. I’ll be back to check on you later,” he says, and slips out the door.

  I find myself unable to hold back the smile that insists on shining through my face. I shake my head at myself, laughing at how ridiculous I’m being. But also, for a moment, I consider staying awake all night. I consider waiting around to see when he comes back.

  But that’s crazy. He’s probably nice to all of his patients. Probably tells all the women they’re pretty. I’m just bored and lonely in this place. Desperate for something interesting, something good.

  I turn off the light by my bed and slide down a bit until my head rests comfortably on the pillow.

  It’s not hard to fall asleep once I decide to. That’s one thing I’ve always liked about myself. It’s never hard to fall asleep.

  By the time we get back to Gabby and Mark’s place, I have resolved to take the job. Gabby and Mark talked to me about it the entire way home, and Gabby told me she thought it was without a doubt a great idea. “I know for a fact that he is great to his employees, that their entire practice has a huge emphasis on nurse and staff morale,” she said. “And my dad loves you, so you’ll be the favorite.”

  By the time we say good night and retire to our rooms, it’s starting to hit me that I have a job offer. I have a shot at a real job. Sometimes I don’t realize how weighed down I am by my own worries until they are gone. But I feel much freer tonight than I did this morning.

  I call Ethan from my bed to tell him the good news. He’s through-the-roof excited for me. And then I tell him about the rest of the evening.

  “I must be allergic to brussels sprouts,” I tell him. “I barely made it from the table to the toilet before puking up my entire dinner.”

  “What? Are you still feeling sick? Hold on. I’m going to come get you,” he says.

  “No,” I tell him. “I’m OK here. You don’t have to.”

  “I want to. It’s a good excuse to see you. I’m coming. You can’t stop me.”

  I laugh and then realize that I never really thought I was sleeping here tonight. I think I knew I was just going through the motions until he came to get me. “OK, yeah, yeah, yeah, come get me!” I say. “I’m excited to see you.”

  “I’ll leave now,” he says.

  So within thirty minutes of us getting home, I am on my way out the door to meet Ethan’s car.

  When I walk into the living room to grab my bag, I see Gabby in the kitchen in her pajamas, getting a glass of water.

  “Headed somewhere?” she asks, teasing me.

  “Caught me,” I say.

  “I called it,” she says. “Although I figured you’d have us drop you off at his place, so you lasted longer than I thought.”

  “At least I’m a little unpredictable.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she says as I turn to the door. “Wait.”

  She pulls the cinnamon rolls off the counter and brings them to me. “Please take these with you. Leave them at Ethan’s. I can’t look at them without wanting to eat them all.”

  I laugh. “And you think I can?”

  “Yeah, well,” she says, “you attract cinnamon rolls everywhere you go. I can’t live like that.”

  I take the cinnamon rolls. “I should send your parents a thank-you note,” I say. I hear Ethan’s car pull up.

  Gabby looks at me as if that’s the dumbest idea she’s ever heard. “They would be insulted,” she says. “It would be like if I sent them one for raising me. Stop.”

  I laugh.

  “But also, go,” she says. “Pretty sure he’s right outside.”

  I give her a hug and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow.

  I walk out the door, and Ethan’s car is parked right in front. I watch him for a moment before he knows he’s being seen. He’s turning the key out of the ignition. He’s opening his door.

  “You look gorgeous,” he says.

  I smile and then quickly find myself laughing at the idea that Gabby could have heard him. I can just imagine her opening up a window and calling down to the street, “OK, but that’s not where a woman’s worth lies!”

  I smile at him and walk toward the car as he opens the passenger door for me. I hug him and get in. He gets in on his side and pulls away from the curb.

  “Is that an entire batch of cinnamon rolls?” he asks. The smell has filled up the car.

  “Yep,” I say. “And if you’re nice to me, I’ll let you have one or five.”

  “Never a dull, cinnamon-roll-less moment with you.”

  “Never,” I say.

  Ethan grabs my hand at a stop sign. He kisses my cheek at a red light.

  I feel like myself around him. And I like myself around him. So far, I like who I am in this city. I feel like a long-forgotten version of myself, a version I’m much more comfortable being than the New York me.

  Suddenly, a small, wily dog runs out into the middle of the street.

  Ethan quickly veers the car to the side of the road to avoid hitting it. The dog continues to make its way across to the other sidewalk. It’s late enough that there are no cars coming up behind us yet. Ethan pulls over.

  “We gotta get that dog,” he says, just as I have my hand on the door handle, about to jump out and chase it down. We both get out of the car and run toward the dog, watching out for any possible oncoming traffic.

  I can see it, just up ahead.

  “On the right side of the street by the Dumpster,” I say. “Can you see it?”

  Ethan comes toward me, looking. He starts walking slowly after the dog.

  “Hey, buddy,” he says when he gets close. The dog prances on down the street, not a care in the world. Ethan creeps up, trying to grab hold, but the moment the dog sees him coming, it runs in the other direction. I run a bit faster and try to cut the dog off on the other side, but I just miss it. The dog is brown and a dingy white, bigger than I thought from far away but still on the smaller side, a terrier of some kind. Shaggy but short-haired, small but feisty.

  There’s a car coming. Ethan once again gets close and tries to grab the dog but fails. The dog thinks we are playing a game.

  The car is now barreling down the road. I start to fill with panic that the dog will run into the street again. I’m a few feet away. The dog is playfully prancing off in the other direction.

  I growl at it, loudly. I give it the best animal-like roar I can muster.

  It stops in its tracks. I turn away from it and start running, hoping it will chase me. It does. Just as quickly as it was running away from me, it’s now running toward me. When it reaches my feet, it jumps up onto me. I quickly bend down and pick it up. The car flies past us. Relief washes over me.

  It’s a female. No collar. No tags.

  Ethan comes running up to meet me. I am holding the dog in my arms.

  “Christ,” he says. “I honestly thought she was a goner.”

  “I know,” I say. “But she’s OK. We got her.”

  She has curled right into my chest. She is licking my hand.

  “Well, clearly, this dog is a trained killer,” Ethan says.

  I laugh. “Yeah, I have no doubt she’s just biding her time until she can attack.”

  “So no tags,” Ethan says. “No leash, no nothing.”

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “My guess is we will have to take her to a vet tomorrow and see if she’s chipped. Put some fliers up.”

  “OK,” he says. “In the meantime . . .”

  “We can’t leave
her out on the street,” I say. “Do you have room for two women to join you this evening?”

  Ethan nods. “I’m sure we can find a spot for her.”

  We both start walking back to the car. When we get there, Ethan opens the door for both of us.

  “We should probably name her,” I say. “You know, temporarily.”

  “You don’t think we can just call her the Dog?” Ethan says as he goes around to his side.

  “No, I think she deserves a noble name. Something epic. Grandiose.”

  “A big name for a small dog,” Ethan offers.

  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. Yo
ur 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.”