Ms. Nicole Collette arrives the Discover You Center, Oregon, Arkansas, United States of America for the "Minds meet Market: Where Behavioural Science Drives Innovation" conference a bit late. She'd had a crazy morning but it did not show so much, save the lateness to the event. She still wears that flawless smile and chic look that still keeps heads turning to take a look at her. She hurriedly parks her vehicle, a 2030 Mercedes Benz SUV almost crashing it. Had the vehicle no anti-collision system on it, she would have wrecked it, probably even run it into the lamps that served to provide illumination at night at the carpark.
Stepping down from her vehicle, she takes a deep breath, stares straight at the bold lettering made from luminescent glass mounted atop the towering edifice that reads "DISCOVER YOU CENTER" all in gold. The valet walks up to her to have her directed into the building seeing she had already done his job for him by parking her car. She had nothing against him, she just liked to know where her car was parked, maybe when she is about to leave, she would give him the key to go bring the car to her on the off-chance that she comes out of the conference too tired and exhausted to walk all the way to where she has just parked the car.
Following the valet, who leads the way, she makes her way towards the automatic doors at the entrance of the edifice where she thanks the valet for his troubles, gifting him a generous tip of $500 dollars in $100 dollar bills,
"Thank you very much," Ms. Collette says as she arrives the automatic doors where the valet stands to usher her in. Pleased with his dedication to his job, just as she is about to have the doors behind her, she reaches into her purse and pulls out five pieces of the hundred dollar bill and hands it to him. "Please have this for your troubles."
"Thank you very much ma'am but I can't accept that," the valet says respectfully. "I was only doing what I have been paid to do...."
"....I know, I know and I must say it's a top notch service you have given," Ms. Collette concurs with a knowing smile. She knows he is just trying to do his job without any problems but she could not let his good deeds go unnoticed. If he were to be queried on account of that, she was ready to stick up for him. "This is just an appreciation for the job well done. Please have it....I insist".
"Alright, ma'am," the valet says as he accepts the money however unwillingly. "Thank you very much. Do have a great time at the event."
Hurrying to the venue, having wasted much time already, trying to convince the valet to accept the little gift she offered him, she arrives the conference room being stared down by the other attendees as she opens and shuts the reinforced glass door. Right then, it feels like she is back in her college where she made an error of arriving the lecture hall late once or twice, and her legs felt so heavy as though their eyes were weights of gold placed on her shoulders to be carried all the way to her seat.
"Thank you for joining us," the man at the podium speaking, Dr. Foster Jonathan says facing Ms. Collette as she settles into a chair beside Mr. Chris Hanks, a businessman and an investor looking to power the dreams of psychologists around him.
"It's a pleasure to be here, sir," she responds somewhat faintly, feeling a bit embarrassed as she flashes a shy smile and takes a bow while seated. Yet another occurrence that usually followed that experience of arriving a lecture after the professor while in college.
"Is it really?" Mr. Chris Hanks asks with a sarcastic smile that almost makes Ms. Collette fly off the handle.
"What do you mean by that?" Ms. Collette asks feeling irritated by the comment.
"Sorry," Mr. Chris Hanks begins, prepared for whatever may come after the statement he is about to make. "I mean if it really were a pleasure to be here, you would have done whatever was necessary to make it here as early as possible..."
"Excuse you," Ms. Collette says quite pissed while trying not to be too loud so as not to distract the other participants at the conference. "Who do you think you are?"
"Oh, Chris Hanks is my name...," he replies, extending a handshake towards Collette.
"...I didn't ask for your silly name," Collette says now very furious, the volume of her voice begins to increase, attracting the attention she earlier wanted to avoid. "What makes you think it is okay to talk to people in such a manner. How dare you?"
"C'mon now," Chris Hanks pushes further as though he is on a mission to make sure she leaves. "You know I am right. If you were interested and invested in the dream of attending this conference, you would have probably woken up as early as possible to get yourself ready on time and arrive here even before the speaker."
"Really?"
"I mean this just goes to show you have no regard for anyone but yourself," he continues. "I bet you thought 'oh, I'm too important so whatever time I arrive the venue would not matter."
"I am not going to take this nonsense," she rises up out of her seat angrily to the surprise of the entire room, even the one at the podium is distracted by the situation. "I'm leaving."
"Run along," Chris Hanks says with a feeling of satisfaction in his voice and countenance. "It just goes to show I was right about the fact that you don't give a damn about anyone else but yourself. Absolutely no regard for anyone."
Upon hearing that while she is heading for the door, she stops in her tracks, tempted to turn back to give Chris Hanks the tongue-lashing he deserves but she tells herself he is not worth it and walks out of the conference room, out of the Discover You Center and to her car. Getting into the driver's seat, she turns on the ignition, revs it four times in the infuriation she feels in her heart and drives off angrily hoping she never gets to see him again for the rest of her life but fate has no respect for her wishes.
A few hours after her first encounter with Chris Hanks, a man she hopes never to see again for the rest of her life, he arrives at her office for a consultation. Unknown to Chris Hanks that Nicole Collette is the chief psychologist at the Firebloom Health Center, Oregon, he waits patiently to see her for a consultation unknowingly.
When she receives his folder from her receptionist on her digital filing system in her office with his name on it, she is taken aback, quietly wishing it is not the same unruly fellow she had met at the conference only a few hours ago.
"Oh no, not you again," she says the moment this tall, fair, slender man dressed in cashmere walks into her office wearing that same smile he had when she saw him earlier in the day. "What are you doing here?"
"You are a psychologist, aren't you?" Chris Hanks says with that same arrogance she witnessed a few hours ago. "You should know what I am here for. I'm here for a consultation."
"Arrrghhh," she says wondering the reason for the impoliteness.
"What's that for?" he asks. "I mean aren't you a psychologist? Isn't it consultations you do?"
"Wait a minute," Nicole Collette begins, riddled with astonishment. "Are you always this rude or do you specifically have an issue with me that I am not aware of?"
"My dear, don't flatter yourself", Chris Hanks advises. "You are not worth having an issue with."
"Please, Mr. Hanks or whatever your name is," she queries about to lose it just like she did at the conference. "What are you here for? Can you tell me what the problem is or leave my office because I'm not sure I am ready to be insulted in my office the same way you insulted me at the Center earlier today."
"There you go again," Chris Hanks begins. "I didn't even know you were the one I was coming to see for this consultation but immediately I walked through that door and saw you, I wanted to apologize, infact that was why I was smiling when I came in but because you are just a self-absorbed creature who feels the world revolves around her and her thoughts, you instantly concluded the smile was an invitation to warfare. Who raised you?"
"That's enough, Mr. Hanks," Nicole Collette says with frustration in her voice. "If all you came here to do is continue the insults you bathed me with earlier today. I am afraid I would have to ask you to leave immediately."
"You see I was just coming in to make good the reason for that conference of earlier today but I guess there would be no need investing here any longer because it is clear this facility does not need it or even if they need it, they'd never get it because of people like you who only think about themselves and care less about the rest of the world around them," Mr. Chris Hanks queries just as he gets to the door to take his leave. "Maybe instead of using your bad attitude or unnecessary reservations to deny this organization wonderful opportunities, you should go on and build your own. That way, you can use your own money and fund it careless of whatever anyone thinks about what you do or how you do it."
"Please," Nicole Collette says just as the door is shut behind Chris Hanks. "We don't need your rude money and your rude character investing in our organization. That would be more of an infestation than an investment."
Unsure of whether she could cushion a discussion of other people's problems anymore for the day after the meeting with the ungenteel character of Chris Hanks, she decides to go home for the day earlier than usual to the consternation of her receptionist and the other staff and patients at the facility.
Throughout the night, Nicole ponders so greatly on what exactly might be eating Chris up so much to warrant his attitude, automatically causing her to switch her personality from the regular I-dont-get-paid-enough-for-this-level-of-crap psychologist approach to the pragmatic lay-it-on-me-lets-refine-it-together approach praying to the Heavens for another opportunity to see him again so she could use her expertise to get to the root cause of his contemptuous behavior.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA4CZk0J0ot
The new day arrives with the sun looking a little brighter than usual or at least to Nicole Collette who recalls the request she had asked of the Heavens the previous night and trusted would be approved and delivered. "Time to win this challenge," she says to herself about the Chris Hanks issue as she rises up from her bed to go prepare for work.
When she is ready after a bath, a brushing of teeth and a putting on of clothes and shoes, she hurries down the stairs and to her kitchen for a cup of coffee but disappointment meets her at the entrance of the kitchen when she realizes she had not turned on the coffee-maker machine before she went for a shower.
"You have got to be kidding me," she says to herself then takes a peep at her watch to decide whether to make the coffee now or just get one from one of the coffee shops on her route to work. "I'm already almost late. I would just get one on the way."
Taking a look at her Cartier Pasha gold watch once more, she hurries out to her car after locking the front door of the house. Jumping into the front seat, she does not allow the engine time to prepare for a move before she reverses out of gate and speeds off to work, pressing the remote to shut the gate before speeding off to work.
Welcomed by the receptionist, Ava Greenwich as soon as she steps into the facility, Nicole Collette acknowledges the greetings but without even giving the receptionist the time to enjoy the acknowledgement of the greeting the former had given, Nicole Collette gets right into issuing instructions,
"Get me Mr. Chris Hanks on the phone, immediately," Nicole Collette says softly but authoritatively. "Let him know he has an appointment for 12pm today."
"Yes, ma'am," comes Ava Greenwich's reply followed by a swift snatching up of the landline installed on her desk and pulling up the registration folder on the desktop to make the call to Mr. Chris Hanks to give him the message as instructed.
Ava Greenwich spends a minute listening to Chris Hanks' callertune, a song from one of his favorite artistes, Emile Sande precisely, which he had bought for 40 cents from his service provider.
The call is answered by Chris Hanks on the second ring from his end. "Hello. Good morning."
"Good morning sir....," Ava replies but is cut off by Chris as he cuts into her speech.
"So how may I help you?" Chris Hanks queries untimedly.
"I was getting to that, sir," tempted to say more than that but for that official context she is now functioning in. "I'm calling you from Firebloom Health Center, Arkansas. "I am calling to remind you of your appointment later today scheduled for 12pm."
"Oh, that's in about less than an hour," he says a little surprised at why he is just getting notified an hour to the appointment. "Anyway, that's alright. I will be there by 12pm. Thank you for the reminder."
"We'll certainly be looking forward to giving you the best care possible. Thank you very much for choosing Firebloom Health Center. Do have a lovely day."
"And you too, bye," he replies. Ending the call, he places his phone on the center console of his vehicle and zooms for the Firebloom Health Center for his appointment, stepping on the accelerator to make the car run as fast as possible while still in his control.
Ava Greenwich, picking up the intercom, dials Nicole's intercom to inform her that her instructions have been carried out as requested,
"Hello, ma'am," Ava Greenwich says as soon as Nicole answers the phone. "I just got off the line with Mr. Chris. He says he's on his way here."
"That's great," Nicole Collette says with a subtle excitement at the possibility of making things right with Chris Hanks after she had blown the first chance for a fruitful partnership with a heavyweight businessman like himself. "Do send him over, immediately he arrives please."
"Alright, ma'am," Ava Greenwich says respectfully before ending the call to continue working on a task to be completed on the desktop before her but just as she is about to, a visitor enters the building and with a bright smile, she says, "Welcome to Firebloom Health Center, how may we help you today?"
"Oh I am here to see Dr. Brandon Fuller?" Isabel Harper replies. "Is he in?"
"Please give me a minute," Ava Greenwich says as she reaches for the intercom to inform Dr. Brandon Fuller of his visitor. "Good morning, sir."
"Good morning, Ava."
"Isabel Harper is here to see you sir," Ava Greenwich says immediately. "Shall I send her up or have her wait a while?"
"Why?" Dr. Brandon Fuller begins. "Send her up immediately please."
"Alright, sir," ending the call and putting the phone down, Ava Greenwich turns to Isabel Harper to inform her she can go on up. "Ma'am, please you can go on in."
"Thank you very much," Isabel Harper says with a pleased smile as she proceeds to board the elevator.
Just as she is leaving, the intercom on Ava's desk rings with a call from Nicole Collette's office.
"Is he here yet?" comes a question from Nicole Collette even before Ava can say the word 'hello'.
"Not yet...." Ava Greenwich says looking to the entrance of the reception to make sure truly he has not arrived but there he was, just working towards the building having parked his vehicle at the carport in the office. "Oh, he just walked in now. I'll send him up immediately."
"Please do," Nicole Collette says before ending the call.
"Welcome sir," Ava Greenwich says with a smile. "Ms. Collette has been expecting you. You can go on up sir."
"Thank you very much," says Chris Hanks as he heads for the elevator. Stopping in his track, he turns to Ava Greenwich to ask what floor Collette's office is located on. "Please what...?"
"Sorry," Ava Greenwich says, her eyes turning in Chris Hanks' direction.
"Never mind," says Chris Hanks reneging on asking her what floor Collette's office is on, having suddenly remembered. "I wanted to ask what floor her office was..."
"Oh, it's the 7th floor, sir," Ava Greenwich cuts in with an answer before Chris Hanks can finish his statement.
"...but I...just....remembered," says Chris Hanks, a little surprised at the eagerness of Ava to answer the question before he has even asked it. "Thank you anyways. I will go up now."
"You're welcome, sir," Ava Greenwich says with a feeling of self-satisfaction, overly pleased with herself that she is able to do something to help. One of the reasons she loves her job. Chris walks his way into the elevator to take him up to the seventh floor, pressing on the button so quickly to take him up, it almost feels like he did so to avoid a scenario where Ava would feel the need to help.
Arriving at the seventh floor, he is almost surprised to see Nicole Collette standing at the door of the elevator,
"Oh, you're finally here," Nicole Collette says with a smile as she ushers him out of the elevator. "I was beginning to think you had lost your way on the way up here because Ava had told me you were around some twenty minutes ago so I was quite surprised that you had not shown up yet so I thought to come get you."
"Yeah?" Chris Hanks begins. "That's thoughtful of you."
"Oh, silly me," Nicole Collette says sheepishly. "I totally forgot we were standing just in front of the elevator. Please let us go into my office."
"Sure," Chris Hanks obliges. "After you."
Going before him, Nicole Collette leads Chris Hanks to her office. Opening the door, she heads to stand behind her desk while she offers him a seat. "Please sit. Make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you very much," Chris Hanks replies as he sits down in one of the two chairs across from Nicole Collette before she takes hers.
"Welcome, once again," Nicole Collette begins. "I called you here today because I wanted us to bring it back a bit...."
"Okay??" Chris Hanks cuts in. "Bring it back? How do you mean?"
Nicole Collette takes a deep breath. "....I would need you to be calm first,please...."
"So I am not calm....?" Chris Hanks asks with a surprised smile on his face. How could she accuse a gentleman like himself of not being calm.
"....I'm not saying that..." Nicole says trying to clarify what she means but is cut off again by Chris Hanks.
"So what then are you saying?"
"I'm sorry to say but you tend to jump the gun a lot," Nicole Collette says quickly, fearing he might cut her off again.
"Is that so?" Chris Hanks asks curiously trying to understand what she is driving at.
"Quite, quite, Mr. Hanks," Nicole Collette affirms. "I mean you just did it right now again."
"Really?" Chris Hanks asks again, probably hoping she was not being serious with what she had said and would say exactly that.
"Yes," Nicole Collette says again but pauses, expecting Chris Hanks to cut in as usual but when he does not. She continues. "Anyways, I called you to inform you about the health center's decision to go on with the partnership with Chrisinks Holdings."
"Oh, I see," comes Chris Hanks' response, a little uninterested about the partnership anymore.
"Why do you sound that way?" Nicole Collette asks sensing the uncertainty in his voice. "You're still interested in the partnership, aren't you?"
"Well...."
"What do you mean 'well'?" Nicole Collette queries, about to become vexed by Chris Hanks' disposition towards the discussion.
"See?...," Chris Hanks begins with an accusing tone. Aiming to hold the charges of the rudeness she had accused him of earlier against her.
"See what...?" Nicole Collette asks, trying not to lose her patience with Chris Hanks right there.
"You are doing exactly what you were castigating me about just a moment ago," Chris Hanks posits.
"I don't understand".
"Just now you were chewing me out about interrupting you rudely," Chris Hanks accuses Nicole Collette. "But here you are now doing exactly the same thing."
"I did no such thing," Nicole Collette says defensively.
"Ah, but you did," Chris Hanks begins. "You did exactly that when I was just about to tell you the reason I said I see."
"If I did, I'm sorry," Nicole Collette apologizes. "It was not my intention at all."
"But that does not change the fact that you did it anyway," Chris Hanks says careless of her countenance that now seems to have changed from apologetic to threatened. "For that reason I would be taking my money elsewhere."
"C'mon now," Nicole Collette says. "You can't actually be choosing to deny this organization this wonderful opportunity because of something like that."
"Oh, but I am," Chris Hanks says dismissively. "Or are you going to accuse me of something else again?"
"But I apologized already," Nicole Collette panicks, unaware of what else she could do to change his mind. "What more do you want me to do?"
"I will consider your plea and revert to the original plan of investing in Firebloom Health Center on one condition," Chris Hanks says with a devious smile that unsettles Nicole Collette.
"And what might that be?" Nicole Collette inquires knowingly, feeling like she already has an idea what he is about to ask but intends to humor him.
"Have lunch with me," Chris Hanks offers. "We can talk over a tasty dish to celebrate the brokering of this partnership."
"Hasn't anyone told you not to talk with your mouth full?" Nicole Collette queries playfully. "How can we be talking and eating at the same time. How about we go for lunch, eat to our satisfaction and we could come back to discuss business? There is no point taking business outside the place of business. So let's go eat and when we are done, we can talk about the partnership properly but I want to assure that we are very pleased about this partnership deal with Chrisinks Holdings."
"Alright then," Chris Hanks says absolutely pleased about the assurance Nicole Collette gives him on the partnership deal. "In that case, shall we?"
"But wait," Nicole Collette admonishes. "This is just one lunch and not a date and it can never happen again. Let's be clear on that."
"Crystal clear," Chris Hanks affirms. "Just one date.... sorry...just one lunch that can never happen again. Got it!"
"Great," Nicole Collette says with a bright smile as she moves to walk out of her office with Chris Hanks following behind her.
When they step out of the door, he stands aside to allow her lock up the door. Immediately she is done, as it on cue, he says softly, "Ladies first."
"Hmm," Nicole Collette observes as she walks ahead and Chris Hanks follows by her side. "A gentleman you are. I like that."
"You like that?" Chris Hanks inquires ecstatically, sensing an opportunity to score her heart notes.
"Yeah I do," says Nicole Collette as they get into the elevator to get them to the ground floor so they can make their way to their cars and get to the chosen venue for the lunch. "Hey, don't get any ideas. Like I told you, we can't have anything to do with each other because you are an investor in Firebloom Health Center and I am a psychologist in said facility so nothing of such can be heard to be happening between us."
"Yeah, yeah," says Chris Hanks, utterly disappointed at the impossibility of anything happening between them. "I understand"
"Great," she says as they continue their descent in the elevator. Chris Hanks hides his pain, smiling all the way to her car even holding her car door open and shutting it carefully before walking over to his, one would think he is not affected by the impossibility of a relationship outside of business partnership but how much he is?
Driving off, Nicole Collette first, followed behind by Chris Hanks, they speed off to the Elan Noire Restaurant, playing like little children along the road with their cars, overtaking each other at intervals all the way to the restaurant.
"That was exhilarating and fun," Nicole Collette says as they both walk into the restaurant with excited laughter on the both their faces.
"Tell me about it," Chris Hanks replies. "I don't think I have ever so much fun blended with fear in my life before this."
Making their way to an available table in the restaurant, located three other tables away from the entrance, Chris Hanks pulls out a chair for Nicole Collette and when she sits down, he pushes the chair in softly before going to settle into his across from her.
When they are comfortably seated, a waiteress walks over briskly. "Welcome to the Elan Noire Restaurant, would you like to order now?"
"Yes please," replies Chris Hanks with a warm smile. "But takes hers first. Ladies first, y'know."
"No," Nicole Collette objects with a surprised look. "Take his first"
"No," Chris Hanks says softly. "You are the lady. It would be rude of me to order before you "
They both go back and forth, giving reasons why the other should make the order first for about five minute with the waiter standing there patiently waiting for them to decide who should have their order taken first. They could have gone on for longer but for the waiteress who utters something.
"Awwnnn," Doris, the waiteress says, slightly bending her neck to the right, in admiration of what perceives to be affection vibes. "What a cute couple you are?"
"Excuse you," Nicole Collette says almost offended but smiling.
"You two," Doris continues. "You look so cute together."
"We are not a couple though," Nicole Collette objects with a laughter that seems to wonder why the waiteress would think such of Chris Hanks and herself. "We are business partners."
"My bad, my bad," Doris says apologetically with a hospitable smile. "Would you like to order now or do I come back later to allow you both some space to decide who goes first?"
"Maybe you should come back later," Nicole Collette says. "Quite sorry for keeping you standing all these while."
"No problem, ma'am," Doris says with the smile. "Whenever you're ready, I'm just a signal away."
"Thank you very much," Nicole Collette says but just as the waiteress is taking her leave, she calls out again. "You know what? On a second thought, please I would go first. I am starving. I will have the Grilled Filet Mignon with Roasted Vegetables and Cabernet Reduction."
"Excellent choice," Doris observes, then turning to Chris Hanks. "And you, sir?"
"Oh, for me," Chris Hanks begins, taking up in his hands the order card and lifting it up to his face. "I'll have the Pan-Seared Duck Breast with Cherry Compote and Wild Rice. Please have the chef make the Duck Breast extra crispy. Thank you very much."
"Great," she says as she steps from the table. "Your order would be ready in about fifteen minutes."
"Thank you very much," Chris Hanks and Nicole Collette chorus as the waiteress takes her leave.
"So cute," Doris says with so much cheer when she hears the unison with which they both say the 'thank you very much' in a manner that warms her heart. Giving the order to the chef, the order is readied in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes later, Doris returns with the two chefs carrying each order they prepared in a tray in hand and have them placed before Chris Hanks and Nicole Collette. "Here are your order, sir and ma'am. Do enjoy your meal."
Having set down the meals, Doris and the chefs return to their positions behind the bar and in the kitchen respectively, leaving Chris and Nicole to savor and enjoy their meals quietly.
"So," Chris Hanks begins. "Regarding our earlier discussion...."
"I thought we agreed we can't talk business over lunch," Nicole Collette reminds.
"....I know," Chris Hanks continues with a smile. "If you just let me finish, I'm not referring to that."
"Alright then," Nicole Collette says with a much warmer smile. "You have the floor. I'm listening most attentively."
"So like I was saying...before the interruption," Chris Hanks continues jocularly. "Regarding our earlier discussion?"
"Yeah," Nicole Collette says, anxiously waiting to know which of the discussions he is referring to, while munching happily on her meal. "What about it?"
"You really don't think we can be together?" Chris Hanks asks still hurt from the answer she gave earlier.
"Can we not talk about this now please?" Nicole Collette pleads. She equally had developed feelings for him but the professional relationship they already had made her put it down and she just wanted to put his down as well for the sake of ethics. "Let's just enjoy this food. We can talk about this later."
"But..." Chris Hanks makes a move to state his case but Nicole Collette quickly interrupts.
"But what?" Nicole Collette asks with a hint of frustration in her tone as she places her cutlery down quietly. "I have told you we can't be together. It would jeopardize the already existing professional relationship we have with each other. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?"
"Because I love you," Chris Hanks blurts out emphatically. "I love you so much, I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I let the opportunity of having your heart slip through my fingers."
At the sound of that, Nicole Collette freezes for about a minute wondering how else she could tell him that the concept of a relationship between them both was beyond abnormal, absurd even.
Taking a deep breath, she lifts herself out of the chairs and walks away without another word, certain there was no other way she could convince Chris Hanks to accept the fact that they could not work romantically, to the latter's astonishment, sitting there feeling awfully embarrassed by the happening.
The silence tarries for two days less than a month. For these days, she ponders some more on the feasibility of Chris Hanks' proposal for a few minutes every day of that period whereas Chris Hanks puts his entire life on hold unable to do anything for himself, sulking all day, absolutely unable to "function" in every sense of the word while he silently hopes she can reconsider his proposal.
Days run into weeks and weeks into months with Nicole Collette living her best life, absolutely unbothered about Chris Hanks while Chris Hanks on the other hand literally falls apart in his apartment, greatly hurt by her refusal to reciprocate his love for her. When she finally answers one of his fifty calls after deliberately ignoring forty-nine others, she moves to make the gash in his heart deeper,
"What do you want from me?" Nicole Collette yells when Chris Hanks' call comes in out of the blues on one of the days in those months. "I have told you one time too many, this can't work. This won't work. How else do you want me to tell you this?"
"Nikki," Chris Hanks begins, hoping to state his case more clearly. "I really cannot function without you. Believe me."
"Who's Nikki?" Nicole Collette fumes. "You know what? I have been trying to be civil with you and make you understand the dynamics behind my refusal but you have chosen to be unnecessarily obstinate and here's what I will do. This would be..."
"...Please Nikki,"
"I have told you before," she fires back. "It's Nicole to you. I'm still your business partner and you know what? At this point, I think it is rather pertinent that we go out separate ways. There are many other beautiful ladies out there, I am sure you will find someone to replace this infatuated feeling you have towards me with real love."
"C'mon now Nikki," Chris Hanks implores. "You are the only one for me. I feel it and I'm sure you feel it too."
"You know what?" Nicole Collette resorts to tell Chris Hanks off conclusively. "Have a nice life. Please don't ever call this number again and don't call my office either because I would make sure to give you an embarrassment you would never forget in a hurry. What's this? As of this moment, whatever relationship we had, be it platonic, professional, whatever. It ends here and now. Goodbye."
Realizing Nicole has really ended the call, he resorts to thinking about the way from his heartbreak. Silently praying for the courage to weather the storm that this heartbreak is.
"How do I get through this?" Chris Hanks soliloquizing. "I'd locked her in my mind and I have lost the freaking keys." His home, a massive 8 bedroom suddenly began to shrink as he could barely find peace following the outright rejection he has just received from Nicole Collette. The edifice would shrink over the next few weeks to become smaller than a hut when everything about his life physically would begin to look like exactly what he was feeling emotionally--an uncomfortable mess. All eight bedrooms, 3 sitting rooms, 1 kitchen would suddenly overflow with uncleanliness and disorderliness alike.
The bedrooms become so unkempt and stinky, they each smell like at least 5 mice had died in them and left to rot--a putrid stench pervading the rooms. Clothes strewn all around, it takes the look of a dumpsite. Plus, there lay a stack of unwashed dishes in the sink in the kitchen that somehow never had any effect on the clean ones in the rack. Well, he had takeouts brought to his doorstep and unbothered about how unkempt he looked, he would stroll to the door to collect what he ordered, like it is a regular day, to the utter surprise of the person who has the food delivered. The delivery person would always throw his or her face backward in disgust whenever he opened his mouth to speak but he cared less, receiving the delivery and shutting the door in their judgemental faces, having prepaid for the meal upon ordering for it online.
Settling down on the floor, he would munch every bite with the misery of the rejection but it would taste like cardboard in his mouth and as if in agreement with his tongue, throat and stomach, his brain would replay the whole rejection scenario in his head as he swallows each spoon and he would begin to weep and wail like a lost puppy. When he finally manages to finish the meal after hours, he would drag himself to the kitchen, sometimes crawling like a dog, to have the plate dropped in the sink.
Returning to the sitting room, he sits quiet and motionless, staring into blank space as if searching it for a map out of the despondence he has found himself in but there is nothing there but an empty space begging to be filled with something or so it seems to him.
Lifting himself up from the floor, he drags himself to his room. Rummaging through the mess that looks like rubbles from a collapsed building, he searches frantically for something. For ten long minutes, he keeps ransacking through the mess.
Finally, after ten long minutes, he sets his eyes on a jotter with a pen attached to it. All that seems to be happening to him currently begins to stack up against themselves in his head, as if the pen were a spring board and the book, a swimming pool they could hardly wait to experience for themselves.
Placing the pen and paper before him, he thinks for a moment and like a lightning bolt striking a powerline, inspiration courses through his mind like electricity. Snatching up the pen, he resolves to let his pain out in poetry.
"COURAGE," he pens down the title. "
Hands clasped
For love I pleaded
For breath, I gasped
For my plea went unheeded
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I have no idea,
Not one,
On how to repair this wear
Someone get me courage on the phone.
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For he's had me deserted.
Now that I need him most
My joys are getting converted
The marauders can now boast.
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Would he sit aside and watch
As fear, pain and disgrace tear me apart?"
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This gives him a little relief as he could feel some of the weight drop off of him like a few stones had been taken out of a massive bag of stones placed on his chest as some kind of punishment. It doesn't heal him completely but it is a step in the right direction. As a matter of fact, the healing process might be more tasking than the heartbreak itself.
About a month after he begins pouring his heart out on paper, he begins to find some liberation from the things and person(s) that keep him holed up in his filthy apartment. The very day the liberation begins, he is embarrassed in himself when he sees how much of a dumpsite his once spick and span apartment has become and uh, he could neither stand the stench coming from his body nor his mouth, this made him like a mad man who has just regained his senses after years of roaming the streets and living in the dump.
Lifting himself up from the filth on and around him, he contemplates which one should be tackled first, a self grooming involving a shower, a clean shave and a drowning of his filthy mouth in paste and mouthwash or a cleaning of the house. He convinces himself to opt for the shower but when the stench from his own body causes him to throw up on the floor in what was once a living room but is now a pig-sty, he changes his mind to go in search of what he could use to have it cleaned up. His legs wade through the things scattered all over the place. What was not waded through was pushed aside with his feet acting like an oar in this sea of filth and what was neither waded through nor pushed aside was trampled.
Getting into the kitchen to get the broom and dustpan to begin the cleaning up of the house, the mess in the kitchen causes a weakness in his knees as he falls to his knees blaming the mess on Nicole Collette and how he would never forgive her for making his life become this messy.
"Oh my goodness," he says as he makes his way into the kitchen to be welcomed by the sight and stench of the dishes in the kitchen. "Nicole!! Nicole!!! Why on Earth did you come into my life? To destroy it, that's the only logical issue because I mean look at it now. Who would ever believe that I, Chris Hanks, would ever be caught dead in this sort of filth let alone, living in it? In short, I can't deal with this, I have to call in the experts to handle this because this is completely beyond me."
Searching out his phone from the messy fill, he pulls it to his face, examining it to make sure it still functions. Upon confirmation, he quickly clicks on the Google icon and searches out "reputable cleaning companies near me".
He clicks on the first search result and dials the provided number. A soft female voice answers the call. He explains to her what his requirements are and the voice on the other end gives an assurance to send a team over for that purpose--to deep clean his unkempt apartment so it looks presentable again. This company named Spotless Delight Limited would put his life back in order in more ways than just dusting and cleaning.
It is 10:30am in the morning when Chris Hanks hears the rap of the door knocker. He lifts himself up out of one of the chairs in the dining area he is sitting in and walks over to the door, having created a pathway in the midst of the mess around the house leading to the doorway, away from the vomit of course.
He peeps through the peephole to see a group of people dressed in jumpsuits excluding one woman dressed in a corporate looking attire of a blue collar shirt and a suit at his doorstep with a bunch of equipment with them.
Unlocking the door, he pulls it open and the sun bursts in like an intruder, smacking his face, he squints for a moment. "Hello, I am Chris Hanks."
The group on the other side make a surprised face, covering their noses as the stench from Chris Hanks' apartment meets their faces to their greatest astonishment as they quietly wonder how a person could actually let the home they spend everyday degenerate to such level of disorganization and filth.
"My name is Edith from Spotless Delight," Edith Summerman says, introducing herself and stating her business for being there. "We spoke on the phone earlier."
"Oh, yes, yes, yes," Chris Hanks gives a knowing nod. "I remember now. Please come in."
"I'm afraid we cannot until you have left," Edith Summerman objects. "Y'know to enable us be more thorough in delivering an exceptional service to you."
Without any further questions, he steps out into the veranda. "That's great. Here. I'm trusting you with my keys and if you are able to deliver on the promises you made. I will trust you further with some recommendations."
Edith Summerman gives a smile to that statement. "I give you our 101% guarantee that by the time we call you back to your house, you would not be able to recognize because we would give it such a facelift from the dumpster we can clearly see it is now to the sterling mansion of an abode it was originally meant to be. You can trust us."
Chris Hanks could feel himself ceding all of his trust to them with that assurance. He would indeed be so amazed at what they would achieve with the place by the end of day which was in about 8 hours from that point in time. He hurriedly jumps into his vehicle, revs it three times to wake the engine up, he would do that for the other two when the Spotless Delight team are done cleaning, having not used them for quite a while.
Driving out of the house, he considers going to pay Nicole Collette a visit, maybe try to further persuade her to consider his proposal but just he turns to drive off, he catches a view of Edith Summerman as she waves him goodbye with a smile that looked to him like an admiration awaiting a reciprocation.
For that moment, it looks to him like his heart's lonely days are about to be over. Smiling, he congratulates on the love that is about to come into his life, as he speeds off to the nearest shortlet to wait for the call to return to his spick and span apartment.
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Arriving at the Serenity Nest, a nearby Airbnb, he is amazed at the awesomeness of what he sees, it tempts him to consider calling Edith Summerman and her team to abandon his house so that he could live in this nest regardless of the cost. The reception smells and feels like the ocean front-cool, tranquil and welcoming, you already feel the pampering as soon as you step into the atmosphere, green plush-carpeting as soft as fur located in the middle of the reception with ocean-blue tilings. Seated on it, a beautiful figurine of a dolphin crafted with molten glass. It seems a fascinating spectacle for the eyes.
"Welcome to The Serenity Nest where every moment is a retreat," Angela, the receptionist, a pretty, buxomly young woman says with a smile. "How may we be of service to you today?"
"It's indeed a pleasure to be here," Chris Hanks says still admiring the place and drinking in the atmosphere. "Please I would like a flat."
"Please give me a minute while I confirm the availability," Angela says with a smile as she turns her face to look at the computer screen before her while Chris Hanks patiently waits for her response. "Ok, so we have four packages available...."
".... Please give me the cheapest," says Chris Hanks says with a pleased laughter . "I'm not staying for so long so I don't really need something so fancy otherwise I might just decide to move in here with you guys."
"Sure," Angela says with a full smile like she had guessed that would be his response for some money or other reward. "Let me check you in. Just a moment."
"Uh-huh take all the time you need," Chris Hanks says with a single flip of his wrist. "I literally have all day."
Angela smiles lightly at the light joke she perceives he makes by that statement. "You can take a seat. I'll have one of the bellboys, well... bellmen really...come take your belongings up."
"Is it gonna take that long?" Chris Hanks asks curiously, hoping Angela would answer in the negative because for some unclear reason, he seems so spent already, he cannot wait to get into the apartment, have a shower, probably get something to eat and have some rest, even if just a quick thirty-minute nap.
"On the contrary sir," Angela begins assuringly. "It would not be long at all. I just do not want to keep you standing unnecessarily. Here at Serenity Nest, we take great pleasure in making sure our guests are very comfortable."
"That's alri....," Chris Hanks begins but is interrupted by Angela when she sees a bellman coming her way.
"Oh, here is one," Angela observes as she spots Bernard, one of the bellmen on the Serenity Nest staff dressed in a neatly pressed light blue suit. The management had chosen that colour with the intention of keeping the guests and tenants feeling at peace at all times. "I will have him escort you to your apartment with your belongings immediately."
"That will be great," Chris Hanks says appreciatively. "Thank you very much."
"Not a problem sir," Angela says as she signals Bernard to come over immediately. "Whatever you need, you can dial 911 from any of the phones up in your apartment and we'll have someone attend to that need immediately. Thank you for choosing The Serenity Nest."
"Really?" Chris Hanks chuckles lightly. "Y'all have the police doing your job for you?"
Angela smiles at him. "I can see how that sounds but I can assure you the phones installed in this place are intercoms and have no access to dial up destinations outside of this perimeter so you can rest assured it would not be the stern faces of the SWAT team busting through the roof of your apartment when you dial 911 but the warm smile of our guest hospitality team standing at your door eager to know how we can make your stay as pleasurable as possible."
"That's awesome," Chris Hanks says very pleased. "I can't wait to get into my apartment so I could enjoy all these pampering."
At that statement, Angela smiles as Chris Hanks walks away from the front desk with Bernard following after him to direct his room. Bernard quickly goes ahead of him as if suddenly realizing he is to do the leading of Chris Hanks to his apartment and not the other way round.
"What's your dream job?" Chris Hanks asks the bellboy as they make their way to his apartment, wanting to make small talks as is usual disposition. He did not fancy the concept of silent walks or drives, he would always to be speaking to or hearing something or someone speak, claiming it helped his mind be busy.
"Oh, me?" Bernard asks as if there is any other person walking with them to the apartment. "I would have loved to be a fireman but this is also okay."
Chris Hanks tries to hide his surprise wondering why, of all the professions on the face of the Earth, Bernard would choose to be a fireman. He'd always imagined such jobs as placeholder rather than a dream job. "That's amazing!"
Bernard flashes a brief smile. The rest of the way to Chris Hanks shortlet apartment is quiet as Chris Hanks spends it adoring the surroundings as they walk.
Arriving at the apartment with the plaque reading "9C", Bernard says with a smile as he unlocks the door and pushes it open, "Here we are sir."
Walking into the apartment, the sight has him blown away. Snatching a deep breath, he wants to say something to appreciate what his eyes see but cannot seem to find the perfect word for it. Taking a step further into the room, he walks around every inch of the room as if searching for the word of appreciation hidden somewhere in the room there. Bernard stands patiently at the door waiting to be released by the dumbfounded Chris Hanks who cannot seem to get enough of the beauty the room holds.
"Wow!" Chris Hanks says as he walks back to meet Bernard at the door after about ten minutes of being wowed by the apartment. "I must say I'm impressed with this place. It's amazing."
"We are very happy you like it," Bernard says with a smile. "Would that be all, sir?"
"Yes, indeed," Chris Hanks affirms with a pleased smile. "You have done more than enough already. I'm afraid if I should ask for anything more, I would consider myself a selfish, inconsiderate fellow and I certainly do not want that."
"Come off it, sir," Bernard implores with a smile. "Ask away. It is the reason we are here for your ultimate comfort."
In that instant, Chris Hanks realizes he cannot let the bellboy go without "blessing" him for all of the services rendered, "Please wait a minute." He walks back into the apartment and fishes out his wallet from one of the boxes in the room before returning to where Bernard still stands as requested. "Please have this little token for all the stress."
"Oh no sir," Bernard says as he politely tries to turn down the money. "It is nothing."
"I insist," Chris Hanks presses as he extends once more the $5000 he pulled out from his wallet towards Bernard. "What's that they say again? The customer is always right, isn't it?"
"Yes sir," Bernard confirms the expression. "But..."
"Bro, please," Chris Hanks maintains. "Have it. It's yours for a job well done. I promise it would not bite nor eat you."
Bernard accepts the money albeit reluctantly, "Thank you very much sir. Do enjoy your stay." Taking a smiling bow, he walks away as Chris Hanks looks on, pleased at his display of such warmness of character.
"Wow, now time to rest," Chris Hanks says stretching as gently shuts the door to the apartment and makes his way to the bathroom for a shower. He spends a few minutes soaking up in the Jacuzzi to massage all the stress out of his body before proceeding to the shower to scrub himself more thoroughly. Stepping out of the shower, he puts on a bathrobe and walks over to the bed to jump into it. "That's the stuff."
Relaxing into the soft foam that feels like fur, he is about to turn on the TV to find something to watch expecting it to be his ticket to a pleasant, rejuvenating sleep when he hears his phone ringing somewhere around but completely out of sight. Searching around, following the sound, he finally finds it in the pocket of the pair of trousers he has taken off just before his bath.
"Hello, Chris Hanks here," He says as he touches the green icon on the phone.
"Yes sir," Edith Summerman begins. "This is Edith Summerman from Spotless Delight....."
"Oh, Edith," Chris Hanks says with cheer. "You're welcome. Any update?"
He asks, eager to know how soon he can be able to return to his humble abode even though he already feels at home in the homely, warm embrace of the Serenity Nest.
"Yes, sir," she replies. "We are half way there. I guarantee you that by tomorrow you should be able to move back in."
"Oh, that's quite amazing," Chris Hanks commends. He is very pleased with Spotless Delight's level of commitment to his contract. "I must say I'm beyond impressed by this."
"Thank you very much sir," Edith Summerman says. "It's all in the day's work."
"In the spirit of appreciation," Chris Hanks begins. "Can I ask one thing?"
"What might that be?" Edith Summerman asks curiously. "Ask away."
"Will you go out for lunch with me?" Chris Hanks inquires. "I mean I know you are busy. I would have asked for dinner instead but I feel you wouldn't be comfortable going out with a stranger that late..."
"Sure," she cuts into his uncontrolled speech. "I'll have lunch with you...to celebrate the milestones we have achieved so far as touching on the transformation of your apartment."
Chris Hanks stays quiet for a minute after Edith Summerman voices out 'your apartment' as he could barely believe his ears--he believes they could just be echoing the words he hopes she would say to his request. "I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure I heard you correctly."
"I-SAID-SURE-I-WILL-HAVE-LUNCH....," Edith Summerman repeats herself, each word coming out as an independent one untethered to the others but is interrupted by Chris Hanks who excitedly lunges at her for a hug. Lifting her up in his arms, he squeezes her average size body so tightly against his, one would imagine he thinks she has no bones but it is all in the ecstasy of hearing a "yes" where he was so sure he'll get a "no". The feeling for him is like a player who shoots a shot from the middle of a 110 yards pitch and scores a perfect goal as though the shot had been taken within the 18 yards box.
He had never been so happy--at least not since after Nicole Collette, whatever it was supposed to mean for him.
"Thank you very much, Edith," Chris Hanks says with cloudy eyes as though he is about to let out a dam of tears from his eyes. "You don't know what this means to me."
"Oh, I have a feeling I do know how much it does mean to you judging from what I can see before me right now," Edith Summerman observes. "And I cannot help but wonder why. I mean a handsome well-to-do man like yourself should have an excited demeanor nevertheless--but not this obvious. I mean I imagine you to be the kind of man women compete for but here you are, overexcited over scrap."
"Hey now," Chris Hanks admonishes. "Don't talk like that. Why would you talk about yourself like that?"
"We'll talk about it over lunch," Edith Summerman says, unwilling to talk about it over the phone. "I have to go continue supervising the work in your house if you please."
Chris Hanks nods as though Edith Summerman could see him nod before he utters "alright then" and let's her get off the phone. He can hardly wait for the lunch date as even though it is just some minutes after 10am, he begins to count down the time to two o'clock, the agreed time for the lunch. He cannot wait to get to know why someone would use such cruel words on herself. It just does not seem right to him, whatever the reason.
He forces himself to go to sleep while he waits for the call from Edith Summerman notifying him she is ready for the date; he initially intended to wait awake for the call but realizing he has no ability to know when exactly her call would come in, not being a psychic and such, coupled with the sleep that battles him fiercely, he decides to allow himself bow to the sword of sleep, shutting his eyes, "just five minutes," he tells himself but if only he had an idea what beautiful embarrassments sleep has planned for him, he would have protected himself from the temptation of that "just five minutes" which would turn out to be very unjust.
The sleep he forces becomes like a forced marriage where the forced begins to enjoy it even more than the forcer, like the proverbial horse and the stream but the horse here unwilling to leave the water after being brought to it for a drink. His eyes would be so heavy for so long--three hours--he would have to abandon other things on his schedule. The sleep feels so different, nothing like the others he had had at his apartment, as though he has been drugged heavily, in his later review of it, it would be described as such a bittersweet sleep or a fleeting-high.
He sleeps so peacefully. Edith Summerman, on the other hand, calls so consistently some thirty minutes into his sleep from 2pm but because of how deeply and sweetly he sleeps, it appears he is in a different world from his phone lain on one of the side tables in the bedroom of his Serenity Nest apartment as the call goes unanswered the seven times she calls. Believing within herself that the seventh call ignored is a "perfect" way to tell her he is no longer interested in going for the lunch hence she decides to let him be, determined to keep things professional from then on and focus on the supervision of the deep cleaning of his apartment. "I should have known this would be the outcome, they always ghost when you show interest," Edith Summerman says as she gives up on calling Chris Hanks any further, deciding to focus strictly on the job she has been contracted to do.
A few hours go by after Edith Summerman's calls before Chris Hanks awakens from his very long nap, stretching and twisting in bed, trying to shake off the sleep inertia he so greatly experiences having slept for so long a time.
Feeling like he has slept for ages, he lazily moves his hand around the bed for a minute feeling around for his phone, eyes yet shut as though he had been instructed in a dream while he slept not to open his eyes until his phone is in hand or something. When he realizes he does not feel it anywhere around him on the bed, he lazily opens his eyes to take a look around imagining it would be on one of the tables in the room. Looking to the dresser for an instant, realizing it holds no phone, he looks to the side table to his left, yet nothing.
Sitting up on the bed immediately, he takes a look around the room again, almost panicking, imagining someone had been in the room while he slept, until his eyes meet the side table right next to him to his right with his phone quietly seated upon it, he begins to imagine if the phone could say something, he would not have had to panic so melodramatically.
Snatching the phone in his hand, as if disappointed in both the side table and the phone for colluding to bring him some stress after such a nerve-relaxing sleep, he clicks one of the buttons by the side and the screen comes up to reveal twelve missed calls including seven from Edith Summerman and five others from two other numbers.
Putting on his pair of trousers, as if to be ready to head out immediately but sitting back in bed, he calls each one of them back beginning with Edith Summerman as her call seemed to matter more to him than the other numbers and her were more in frequency than the other two callers'.
When he calls the first time and she does not pick up, he begins to imagine it is deliberate as he prays to heaven to forgive him and touch her to pick up the call.
"Father, I know I was silly to have slept off so soon and so much that I ignored, not one, not two, not three but seven missed calls but please I beg of you...and I know I have no right to ask this....after missing the seven opportunities you gave me but please give me one more chance, let me make this right," Chris Hanks prays. "Please cause her to pick my call."
Heaven surely looks upon him with mercy, even as his prayer is delivered to him however in a different way from what he'd asked for but altogether better. Within seconds, he hears his phone ring beside him. Jerking out of the deep thought from where he had made that silent prayer, he grabs his phone, his heart bursting with ardor, pressing the receive button, he is excited to hear "hi, Chris" in the voice of Edith Summerman.
"Hi, Chris," comes Edith Summerman's voice into his ears, sounding like music, as soon as he hits the answer button.
"Hi, Edith," Chris Hanks begins. "I want to apologize for seemingly standing you up for lunch. I'm terribly sorry for that. I honestly did not know when I slept and how I slept so deep that I couldn't hear my phone that was right next to me. Please pardon me."
"That's alright," Edith Summerman says in acceptance of his apology. "We can do it again tomorrow if you will be available."
"Or I could just come over right this moment," Chris Hanks suggests. "So I could just take you out for dinner instead?"
"That would have been a lovely idea," Edith Summerman courteously dismisses."But I only just got back from work some thirty minutes ago and I am dead-tired. Please let's make it tomorrow or any other time please."
"That's not a problem," Chris Hanks agrees. "I mean I missed the opportunity you gave me earlier today. The least I should is he considerate of your own concerns. Let me allow you some rest now. I'll see you tomorrow. Do have a wonderful night."
"And you too, darling," Edith Summerman says dreamingly. She however can not understand the reason why she said that or why there had been so much emotion in the way she pronounced the word "darling". Was she already entering into Love's airspace with Chris Hanks? For the rest of the night, she would think herself to sleep of Chris Hanks and the lunch and dream of him as well.
They both end the call, unknowingly simultaneously clicking the part of their screens with the red phone icon on it to retire for the night.
The next morning arrives with pomp in Chris Hanks' chest and a bit of confusion in Edith Summerman's when just as she is stepping out of her apartment ready to go to work for her daily bread, there stands Chris Hanks, dressed in a shiny pressed blue suit and snazzy looking black leather pair of shoes, both from the Italian designer, Giorgio Armani, right outside her door to her greatest surprise.
"Wow, Chris," she says with a shocked smile that translates into a reflex hug. "What are you doing here? How did you even know I live here?"
"I will answer one question at a time," he begins while Edith Summerman listens with a speechless smile as he signals her to walk with him. "Shall we? I came to take you for coffee seeing that it has been really difficult for either of us to get off, once we start the day, to unwind. So i thought to myself, why not we do a little unwinding before we get into the rigor of the day then after the day, we do a little more if we still have any vibe thar has not been snatched by the stress of the day so I am here to take you for coffee at a breakfast diner I discovered yesterday, and believe me their coffee and snacks are to die for--or rather to live for. I have no interest in your death."
They both chuckle lightly about that. "I understood what you meant, Chris," Edith Summerman says. "You don't have to panic. You won't lose me."
He walks her over to her car, sensing an opportunity to once again show his gentlemanliness to her, like a marketer trying to get a new customer to get with the product, opening the door for her like an actual valet.
"Your chariot awaits," Chris Hanks says holding the door open with a very bright smile that pleases Edith Summerman as she walks over, to where Chris Hanks stands beside her car, and climbs into the driver's seat of her Nexarion Trailblazer XT.
"Thank you very much," Edith Summerman says appreciatively as she turns on the car while Chris Hanks still holds the door and just as he is about to shut the door to proceed to his own vehicle so they can head for the diner he spoke about earlier, she suggests something. "Why not we go in my car. I mean you're still returning here, aren't you?"
"I don't know," Chris Hanks says, skeptically looking at his vehicle silently worried about it. "You think so?"
"C'mon now," Edith Summerman implores with a smile. "Don't be silly. No one is coming to take your vehicle."
"I still don't know," Chris Hanks says still looking at the car guardedly and frantically. "I mean it's parked right on the corner of the street. It could be vandalized, towed or worse still stolen right there."
"Alright," Edith Summerman says, offering a suggestion. "If it would make you feel any better, you can park it in with my other vehicles in my garage and we'll lock them in, then once we get back from the breakfast we are already running late for , you can take your car and head for your office or we could just drop you off at your office on our way back from the breakfast and when we get back, you can take your car home or we could just relax."
They both love the sound of "we" when they talk about each other but neither had made that desire to become one outrightly to the other. It has been a matter of suggestive communication about it between them both until now anyways.
"That sounds like a plan, the formerly skeptical Chris Hanks says with so much cheer in his eyes like a child whose father had whispered in his ear the plan to buy one of his favorite toys.
Running across the front of the door, he pulls open the front passenger door and with so much excitement, climbs into the front seat and like a signal, as soon as he shuts the door, Edith Summerman puts the car into motion but just as they are driving off, he notices in the sideview mirror on the left side of the car as he steals a peek at Edith Summerman.
"What's that?" Edith Summerman says with so much concern in her eyes. "Did I crush something as we drove off?"
"Please stop the car," Chris Hanks says frantically.
"Why?" She asks in utter confusion as she brings the car to a jolting halt, almost slamming their bodies against the steering and dashboard respectively but for their seatbelt mechanism that holds them both back. "Why so troubled?"
Without giving an answer to the question, Chris Hanks hops out of the car with his keys in hand and walking up to his car and turning it on, he reverses the car into Edith Summerman's garage almost wrecking its door, but for the automatic emergency braking installed in the vehicle which automatically halts the car.
Edith Summerman, suddenly remembering she would need to open the garage door for him, clicks the button on her car keys just as Chris Hanks looks up but just before he can say a word. She gives a sheepish grin and shrug.
Chris Hanks quickly reverses his vehicle into the garage, revving it as he brings it to a halt in there, had he issues with his air filter, that could have made him immediately invisible with the way he had car revved but being a man who paid close attention to what he drives, he'd cultivated the habit of having a mobile repair crew come by his home biweekly for maintenance services on all five of his vehicles so all that can be noticed as he revs is the smell of a pure exhaust void of any impurities.
Locking the car up with a press of the remote attached to his keys , he hurries out of the garage, to rejoin Edith Summerman in her vehicle so they can drive off to the breakfast diner for the late breakfast which may not have the time to savor while they eat, seeing a lot of time has already been wasted on a number of other irrelevant things.
"Are we ready, now?" Edith Summerman smiles, lightly shaking her head in disbelief, as Chris Hanks opens the front passenger door to let himself back in.
"Oh, sure," Chris Hanks replies, adjusting himself into the seat, as he takes a look at his watch. "We can go now. Hopefully, we still have time enough to eat without having to rush our meal in order to catch up with our schedules."
"I'm sure we will," says Edith Summerman as she pushes the start button and puts the gear in 'D' and they drive off. "You must really love your car? Or you just don't trust my street?"
Chris Hanks smiles quietly at Edith Summerman, unwilling to take chances at telling her how he just loves safety measures, being a security freak that he is, fearing it may cause her to draw back from him. Stretching his hand to the radio slowly as if unsure he has any privilege to do so, Edith Summerman smiles at him,
"Go on," she says, surprised at why he seems so hesitant about something so insignificant. "You can turn it on. It's not just mine to control. It's equally yours right now."
When he turns it on, there is the sound of an upbeat love song playing on the stereo. What a coincidence it seems to Chris Hanks. He intends to pop the question at the breakfast coffee but had turned on the radio to be given a reason not to. The radio had a way of unknowingly doing what one wanted at different points in time--playing a sad song for you when you are down or playing a happy song to also pick you up when you are down or immediately playing your favourite song right when you are humming it or thinking about it--but today, they seem not to care about him as they do the direct opposite of what he wants them to do, playing a love song when he searches for a reason not to go ahead with the initial plan of a proposal he had suggested the coffee date for. Or maybe, just maybe the radio station wants no part in being complicit in the pain that might follow if he loses this chance to have this heart of gold for himself.
When they arrive the coffee shop, they walk in almost majestically, looking like the monarchs of a rich kingdom but for a minor accident that follows their walk into the breakfast diner, turning heads in their direction in concern.
"Oh dear," Mr. Raphael Ruiz, one of the onlookers says rushing towards her, as he witnesses the accident that sees Edith Summerman missing her step as she makes to mount the final steps into the restaurant, almost taking off the entire frameless glass door. "Are you okay?"
"Thank you so much," Edith Summerman says to with a cheerful smile and a little squint from the brief pain she feels from the fall and for that brief moment she thanks Raphael Ruiz, Chris Hanks feels quite invisible. Maybe it is the sign he wants, the sign he needs. That jealousy, he never seemed to have felt it so strongly for anyone the way he feels it now concerning Edith Summerman as he can hardly wait for Raphael Ruiz to leave so that he can get Edith Summerman seated to execute the major reason for the coffee date before time runs out on them and they have to get back to their offices to officially kick off the day.
"Don't mention," Raphael Ruiz says with a grin that Chris Hanks considers suspicious, completely ignoring his presence. What could he be trying to do, snatch the meal he just began preparing. "I am Raphael by the way." Raphael Ruiz stretches a handshake towards Edith Summerman.
"Oh, I'm Edith," Edith Summerman says, seemingly charmed by the care Raphael Ruiz had shown earlier. "Edith Summerman. Nice to meet you."
Chris Hanks inserts himself into the conversation. "I'm Chris...Hanks," Chris Hanks says, awkwardly stretching his hand towards Raphael Ruiz even before the latter finishes the handshake with Edith Summerman.
"Nice to meet you too," says Raphael Ruiz passively, with what seems like the briefest handshake known to man, before returning to his conversation with Edith Summerman eagerly. Standing by them both quietly, again unsure if he possesses any right to end the conversation, Chris Hanks stays calm for about two minutes into their conversation then like a hawk swooping in to snatch a chick from his mother's watch,
"Ed," he calls out in a measured tone, trying to hasten up the conversation so that he can have enough time to carry out his proposal before they have to leave. "We have such little time, you can talk to this fellow later. You know we are in a haste."
Thanking Raphael quickly, she waves him with a smile before walking away from him and towards Chris Hanks who wears anxiety all over his person.
"I'm sorry," Edith Summerman says as she comes to the table where Chris Hanks is seated, many tables away from Raphael Ruiz, one would wonder why. Edith Summerman wonders why. "Y'know you cannot just walk off from that kind of scene and not thank the fellow for helping you..."
While she is yet talking about the jist concluded episode she has had with the steps and the timely intervention of two knights in shiny armour, Chris Hanks quickly goes down on one knee, leaving her utterly confused as to what was the intention behind his kneeling. Was he about to beg to be forgiven for walking off from showing a little appreciation for the assistance rendered by Raphael Ruiz or making her walk from one side of the massive restaurant for no justifiable reason.
Surely it must be one of these two she must have been thinking, watching him go down on one of his knees, the right one precisely while the left played the role of a wedge.
Edith Summerman waits patiently as Chris Hanks opens up his pursed lips to speak. She does not expect what comes next.
"Ed," Chris Hanks begins. "I..."
"C'mon," Edith Summerman says. "It's not that serious...."
"....No," Chris Hanks objects, trying to hide his displeasure with Raphael Ruiz. "It has nothing to do with Mr. Knight-In-Shiny-Armor". At the end of whatever his plans are for going on one knee, he will either have a beautiful reason to be eternally grateful to Raphael Ruiz and remember him happily or have a terrible reason to resent so greatly meeting with him.
"Uh-uh," says Edith Summerman, a bit surprised at how that earlier encounter with Raphael Ruiz seems to have upset him so. "What is it then?"
Chris Hanks wants to get up from where he is on bended knees on the ground because part of him had made him feel threatened during the Raphael Ruiz. He had never felt as insignificant as he felt back there, like his feelings did not matter at all. He actually had anyway, with Nicole Collette who kept him for so long and when he thought to make his intentions, she shut him down like surface-to-air missile does to an enemy fighter jet. That practically made him a shadow until Edith Summerman had come along. .
Tempted to predict what would happen if he goes ahead with his intentions right then, he decides to shame the devil that puts such thought in his head.
"Ed," he begins again still on a bended knee. "I have known you for e while now and if there is one thing I am particularly sure of, it is the purity of your soul, quite a cheerful one and it would make a man the luckiest to keep it. So please Edith, will you marry me?"
"Oh yes," Edith Summerman says, filled with ecstasy, pulling him for a tight hug and a passionate kiss on the lips that has the restaurant clapping. "I will marry you"
Just after the kiss while Edith Summerman looks into his eyes as if searching for something, Chris Hanks voices out what he would later wish he kept in. "Whewww,"
The look on Edith Summerman's face changes from excitement to worry, "What was that?"
"Oh, it's nothing"
"C'mon now," Edith Summerman pleads. "We just got engaged literally 30 seconds ago and you already want to keep secrets?"
"I'm sorry," Chris Hanks says apologetically still holding Edith Summerman closely. "It's just that I thought with the Mr. Ruiz episode, you'd have objected."
"Oh," Edith Summerman says, her voice laced with forced calmness. "You're right. I should object. In fact, I should pick up my bag and get myself out of here..."
Before Edith Summerman can finish her statement, Chris Hanks gets up on his feet visibly raged and charges for Ruiz's table.
"Look what you have done," he says, grabbing Raphael Ruiz by the collar and lifting him up ready for a brawl. "Now, she wouldn't...."
"Chris," Edith Summerman calls out in disbelief. She would have never imagined he would be capable of such a behavior. Feeling greatly embarrassed by the occurrence, she picks up her bag and storms out of the restaurant into her car. She is about to start the car and zoom off when she realizes they had both come in the same car and Chris Hanks' car is at her place.
Sitting quietly for a few seconds watching the entrance of the restaurant to see when Chris Hanks would come out so they could leave with whatever dignity he left for them both, she is surprised when she sits for over ten minutes without Chris Hanks in sight. Blaring the horn continuously ,as if in a traffic jam with crazy drivers surrounding her, with the hope that Chris would hear it and walk out of the the restaurant immediately, she is disappointed when she is forced to keep at it for another five minutes before Chris Hanks comes walking out of the restaurant, still looking very enraged and shaking out his hand as he heads towards Edith Summerman's Trailblazer XT to join her so they can leave.
"That was not very nice," Edith Summerman says as soon as Chris Hanks climbs into the car. "You shouldn't have acted that way. I was, infact, I am very disappointed in you on that. I would take you back to my house so you can pick up your car and leave."
"Oh, you're gonna blame me for this too," Chris Hanks fires back defensively. "Perfect. Find a reason to justify turning down my proposal because you have clearly fallen for Mr. Perfect Raphael Ruiz. Convenient."
"It hurts," Edith Summerman blanches, feeling really pained. "It hurts that you should say that to me. If any other had said that. I'd have shaken it off but from you?"
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Edith Summerman starts the car engine and drives out in reverse out of the space in which she has parked and zooms off. In the rearview mirror, another car can be seen driving into the spot as soon as they leave. All the way to her house, not a word is said, they drive in cold silence. The atmosphere is so cold, Chris and Edith both have their eyes looking forward, neither of them turning to, as much as, sneak a peek at what the other is doing..
Edith Summerman drives up to the gate of her residence, parking in the same spot Chris Hanks had been paranoid about leaving his car at. Opening the garage door, as soon as Chris Hanks gets down from her car, she zooms off to her office for a check-in, with little drops of tears falling from her eyes, it's almost difficult to see ahead. Spending no more than ten minutes, she then heads back to Chris's house to supervise the finishing touches being done, the return of his keys slated for 4pm that evening.
While Edith Summerman works hard at finishing her assignment at Chris' residence, pissed at him but unwilling to allow her personal life interfere her payday, Chris, on the other hand, sits in his hotel room silently praying that Edith Summerman forgives him and reconsider his proposal as he sees him slowly drifting towards the mess he just came out from. He looks at the mini-bar in his room, tastefully furnished with some of the best liquors one can ask for and looks away again, unwilling to let himself give in to the ploy the bottles have to get him to drink them all up in his present state of mind.
"Just a sip would not hurt," Chris Hanks trying to rationalize the drift he is making towards the bottle in the light of Edith Summerman's rejection as he snatches one from the bar in his suite. The bottle seems his go-to friend for all his emotional issues. "It's necessary".
An hour later, a sip becomes a thousand as he guzzles down three full bottles from the in-room bar like a horse that had been galloping for days in the desert. He drinks himself so much he drifts into sleep right there on the floor like a wretched soul. Indeed a wretched soul he is, having lost the chance to keep a heart as pure as Edith's for the second time in a row. Who does that?
Sleeping deep into the evening, without the hope of ever seeing Edith Summerman ever again. By 10pm, there is a knock at the door, a perplexed one which goes on for about ten minutes before it actually gets into his ears enough to wake him up.
Riddled with vesalgia, Chris sits up on the floor looking completely befuddled by what is happening around him. The banging at the door of his suite continues to his greatest dismay and frustration.
Crawling to the door on all fours, he struggles for about fifteen seconds to get himself up from the ground using the door handle, probably to the confusion of the person on the other side of the door. Now, having succeeded in rising up from the floor like a soldier riddled with bullets but refusing to die like a chicken, he presses the handle down, careless or rather unable to care about who is on the other side of the door.
Pulling the door open, his stomach begins to rumble and as soon as he opens it completely like a group of people hoping to surprise their colleague, his stomach, his digestive organs coordinated by his brain sends watery chunks of slushy liquid flying into Edith Summerman covering her face and part of her dress.
"Oh-my-God," Edith Summerman screams, extremely worried about Chris Hanks as though he is at the point of death. "What happened to you?"
"I....," Chris Hanks attempts to speak before he slumps to the floor exhausted.
"Somebody, help please," Edith Summerman screams as she lifts Chris Hanks' head up with her hand when he slumps as she frantically grabs her phone to call 9-1-1. "Somebody help me please.... Chris, don't do this to me please. C'mon."
Edith Summerman sits on the floor, Chris Hanks' body lain in her laps about to become an artifact for the coroner museum. When the ambulance arrives the hotel, the paramedics hurry into the lobby urgently, marching up to the receptionist at the front desk to make enquiries.
"Hello, Good evening," Charlotte Terrence, the chief paramedic on the ambulance that arrives for Chris Hanks and Edith Summerman greet.
"Good evening, ma'am," Brittany Drummond replies calmly, unaware of the issue that might have brought them to the hotel. "Please how may I help you?"
"We received a distress call from this hotel, Room 600 precisely," Charlotte Terrence replies hastily, uninterested in the bureaucracy Brittany Drummond seemed to be presenting them with. "Please can you show us to the room as time is of the essence?"
Brittany Drummond looks at one of the three other receptionists at the front desk with her for five seconds, as if telepathically asking them if she can trust what the paramedic is saying before picking up the phone to summon one of the porters.
"Please show this fine gentlemen to room.....," Brittany Drummond pauses and turns to the paramedics to confirm the room number. "600....you said?"
"Yes, please,"Charlotte Terrence replies worriedly. "Please we need to hurry. Someone's life might be in grave danger."
"Please show them to room 600," Brittany Drummond quickly says to Xavier Santiago, one of the hotel's porters who just happens to be passing by at the time. "Will you?"
"Surely," says Xavier Santiago with a pleasing smile. "Please follow me this way."
Xavier Santiago leads the paramedics to the elevator and while they are on their way up to the 7th floor, he cannot help but feel a knot in his stomach.worried about whoever the fellow is in room 600 that they have come to save, quietly praying that time does not run out on the fellow before they get to the room.
Arriving on the 7th floor in a matter of minutes, Xavier Santiago steps out of the elevator with the paramedics, leading them in the direction of a hallway adjacent to the elevator labeled 600-640 indicating that the hallway leads through rooms 600 and 640, the paramedics' destination, 600 being the very first room across from the elevator,
"Here we are," Xavier Santiago says as he steps up to the room door with the paramedics following behind him.
"Thank you, Mr....Santiago," Charlotte Terrence says shaking Santiago's hand, stealing a glance at the gold name tag on his light blue suit. "You have really been a great help."
"Thank you very much ma'am, " Xavier Santiago says appreciatively. "Just doing my job".
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Santiago proceeds to take his leave in order to let the paramedics do their jobs--saving which unfortunate fellow is behind the door in that room--but a distressed shriek immediately the paramedics knock on the door stops him in his tracks as he stays back to watch the paramedics carry out their operation feeling nothing but sympathy for Edith Summerman as she yells at the top of her voice pleading for Chris Hanks' life to be saved.
"Please help me," Edith Summerman yells frantically, tears dropping from her eyes as the paramedics rush towards her. "Please don't let him die. Please do something."
"Please you can let him go now," Charlotte Terrence says gently pulling Edith Summerman up as the other paramedics take hold of Chris Hanks in an attempt to save his life. "Let these fine gentlemen do the job of bringing him back to you please..."
"Please do all you can," Edith Summerman cries desperately. "Don't let him die. Not now please."
Charlotte Terrence gives a comforting smile as she pulls Edith in for a tight hug, clutching her as the paramedics work on him to ascertain if there would be any need to rush him to this hospital or if it would be something they could handle there on the spot but unfortunately.
"Notify Zimmerman Specialist Hospital we are coming in with a top priority patient, possible intracerebral haemorrhage. Estimated time of Arrival, 10 minutes," Gerald Stephens says to his colleague, Elena Petrov who immediately pulls at her radio to hail the dispatch to alert the hospital of their arrival as two other paramedics in the crew lift Chris Hanks in a stretcher to the ambulance waiting outside.
"Dispatch, this is Medic 12. We're approximately 5 minutes out with a priority patient, possible subarachnoid hemorrhage. Requesting notification to Glory Hospital. Over," Elena Petrov quietly says into her radio as they wheel Chris Hanks to the ambulance, Edith Summerman weeping as she follows them into the ambulance comforted by Charlotte who tries to comfort her patiently even as the former seems not to care for the words of reassurance being whispered by the latter as she prays internally,
"Heaven please," Edith Summerman prays internally as the ambulance meanders through the streets in the quietude of the night. "I have tried to gather the courage required to go ahead in event of his loss but I see no possibility of going any farther without him. It's a terror I don't want to imagine. Do not let death consume this one please,"
The street is empty and silent, it seems as though all vehicles had been cleared off by the dispatch to enable the ambulance have a freeway to get Chris Hanks to the hospital in the shortest time possible. The ambulance backs itself into the brick portico of the hospital to enable the waiting Trauma team attend to Chris Hanks immediately. These fine set of health professionals would be the ones to decide if he walks out of the Glory Hospital alive or in a finally carved pinebox. Either way, the decision hour has arrived for his body to choose between fight or flight.
Edith Summerman sits in the ambulance shocked, seeing Chris Hanks being brought down from the ambulance unto a stretcher, she can barely believe her eyes.
"Madam...Madam," the chief paramedic calls out to Edith Summerman as Chris Hanks is brought unto a stretcher, without a response. "Madam..."
"Yes....yes," Edith Summerman says, jerking out of the mindtrip she was earlier trapped in and down from the ambulance. "Please don't let him die."
One of the doctors on the case walks up to Edith Summerman seeing how panicky she is decides to offer her a little succour while her colleagues take Chris Hanks in on a stretcher, to attempt to work against time and have Chris Hanks back to Edith Summerman alive and well.
"We can assure, we'll do our very best to make sure we bring him back to you better than he is now," Dr. Alicia Lombardi says assuringly as she takes Edith Summerman into the lobby to have a seat. "Please try and be calm."
Edith Summerman wants to query her like the former had been querying every person from the chief paramedic down to this point but she stops short, realizing that querying them might upset their composure and possibly result in dastardly consequences. Doing nothing else, she reclines into the chair to allow the doctors do their jobs, exactly what is required, screaming and yelling would help nobody.
"Thank you ma'am," Dr. Alicia Lombardi says as she begs to take her leave to join the other doctor in the battle for Chris Hanks' life. "Please excuse me."
Amidst the hospital's chaotic backdrop, she sits frozen, hands clasped to her chin, her eyes distant, her mind consumed by thought, as people hurry by, each carrying their own burden – anxiety, sorrow, exhaustion.
In the suspense, her mind wanders into a very disturbing thought.
"What if that was the last time you'd see him alive actually," she imagines, surprised at herself for allowing such thoughts as cold waves of fear run through her body, as though Death had been one of the fellows who walks past her and is on his way to Chris Hanks' ward. "Oh no. Chris, you have to make it out....You have to....for me... for us."
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Holding on to the assurance from Dr. Lombardi, she tries to calm herself down a little but failed, not with everything that seemed to going on around her- the crying, the worried faces, the public address system echoing the names of doctors requesting their presence to one part of the hospital or the other and she cannot help but imagine what each case was about, considering how urgent the announcer sounded. Edith Summerman lifts herself out of the chair she is seated in to step out of the hospital but when she wonders how she would be able to hear when the doctors have any news about Chris' case, she sits herself back into the chair. Right then, a casualty with a bleeding gash on the left side of his torso is being rolled in on a stretcher, having been brought by a good Samaritan, whom she can see addressing the doctor probably, on what he had witnessed or maybe like the one in the Bible, requesting the best care be given to the fellows and their bills sent to him.
"I need to get some fresh air," Edith Summerman says, suddenly feeling suffocated by the atmosphere in the hospital there. She turns on her phone as she walks her way towards the hospital entrance to exit the building, she had turned it off when the paramedics arrived for Chris Hanks to enable her concentrate on giving them the necessary information needed to give him the attention he needed at the time. Perhaps, had she not turned it off, the phone would have continued buzzing, preventing her from thinking straight and being of any help to the paramedics at the time.
When she gets out of the hospital building, it almost feels like she had been holding her breath because the hospital were some kind of poisonous gas chamber. It was anyway, an anguish chamber. Inhaling hard, she holds it for five seconds--as if intending that the air she just inhaled travels round her system-- before exhaling, uncovering a feeling that she had not noticed under the tension inside the hospital, a feeling of hunger. Having worried and wept all the way to the hospital, something needed to be put in her stomach soon, otherwise she might just admitted like Chris Hanks. She looks around the vicinity, unfamiliar to her, she stands scanning with her eyes for the availability of a restaurant around. Bingo. She spots a cafeteria belonging to the hospital named Fresh Bites Café.
Afraid if she delays one more minute, she would risk a slumping to the floor causing her to be rushed back into the hospital, only difference, this time she would not walk in but would be rolled in on a stretcher like the helpless accidented fellow whom she had seen being wheeled in unconscious and bleeding earlier while she sat worried over Chris Hanks some minutes ago in the hospital lobby. Part of her however imagined it would not be so much of a bad idea provided she would be lain next to Chris Hanks.
"Look at what your mind is thinking about, Edith," she says to herself smiling then heads in the direction of the Fresh Bites Café for some fresh bites. "Imagine you."
"Welcome, ma'am," Asher Finn, the doorman at the restaurant greets with a smile as he opens the door to let her in and Edith Summerman seems so pleased by this, she pulls out her wallet to tip the doorman with a hundred dollar bill.
"Thank you so much," Edith Summerman says with a smile of one who is extremely fascinated as though such greetings did not happen everyday but once in a blue. This particular one being an unusually large bright blue moon. Slipping the money into his hands, having learnt her lesson from the valet fellow, she scurries off to the counter, as if being chased, before he can turn down the gift, if he had any intention.
She arrives the queue with four people ahead of her, patiently waiting for the people ahead to order to be served when just as the person before her is served, the food at the counter runs out.
"Welcome Madam," Daphne Luna, the restaurant attendant says, willing to take her order just before the food arrives. "What would you like to order, please?"
"But I see you have just run out of food...," she says, her voice laced with confusion, almost upset."What would you be doing with my order if I gave you now? Daphne stares speechless as she wonders what the reason might be for the Edith Summerman's countenance.
"Ma'am, I know," Daphne Luna begins politely. "But I can assure you in a matter of few minutes, the food would be replenished. I bet they are bringing it right now so please kindly give me your order so that immediately the food is brought, I can attend to you first, maybe even bring it to you at your table to apologize for the delay, please."
Within a split second, Edith Summerman is taken aback. She cannot believe she had just flared at the attendant and what's more? Quite openly, careless of onlookers. Slowly walking backwards as if seeing a terrifying thing standing before her, she walks her way back tobsit on a chair to wait for the food and the promised order to arrive.
Just as the food is being brought to her table by Daphne Luna as promised, her phone rings. It's a call from Chris Hanks' phone.
"Mr. Chris is awake, ma'am,' Nurse Greselda Albert, one of the nurses assisting the doctor on Chris' case announces as soon as Edith Summerman answer the call. "We'd looked for you but we couldn't see you so we decided it would be necessary to call you."
Edith Summerman feels like screaming, it seemed like the best news anyone could ever give her at that point, not that a million dollars smashing into her account would not sound better but with how close Chris Hanks seems to now be to her heart, it gave her such ecstasy.
"Sorry but I am going to have to pass on that," Edith Summerman says to Daphne, pushing the phone away from her ear for some seconds, then pulling it right back to her ears. "I'm on my way. Thank you very much."
Expectedly, Daphne is not pleased with this action, it confuses her but the customer is always right so she makes a suggestion. "It's alright, ma'am. I understand. Shall I pack it to go then?"
"Oh that'll be great," Edith Summerman says with a pleased smile as she sits back into the chair to wait for Daphne to pack the food to go for her. "I'll really appreciate that."
Daphne diligently scurries off in excitement, pleased that Edith Summerman chooses to take the food to go rather than abandoning it all together after she had painstakingly left her station behind the counter to bring her the food. Edith Summerman flashes a smile at Daphne, seeing how happy she is at the gesture of not abandoning the meal as she walks towards the kitchen to turn the food into a takeaway container and for some reason, tips and such monetary packages had never made her feel so pleased.
"I should extend a gift to her as well," Edith Summerman soliloquizes, pulling out her purse from her bag, after Daphne leaves to package the food. "A really diligent fellow she is, I must admit."
"Here you go, ma'am," Daphne says as she gently places the branded nylon bag with an inscription in Algerian font "FRESH BITES CAFÉ....Where every bite is a fresh delight". "Would that be all, ma'am?"
"Surely. Thank you very...," Edith Summerman says cheerfully but pauses upon remembering her deal with herself. "...Oh no, please wait."
"Anything else, ma'am," Daphne asks politely, maintaining her position. No, there is nothing else. There is no other reason Edith Summerman keeps Daphne standing before her but to give herself the pleasure of blessing her so generously. She is not wasting money, even though it sometimes looked that way to other people. No, she is investing in lives around her, following Winston Churchill who said "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give" and peradventure she actually 'wastes the money' this way which she clearly isn't, she has an assurance of making it back five times over before the month ends.
"Please have this for your wonderful," Edith Summerman says handing Daphne a bundle of ten hundred dollar bills to Daphne's astonishment.
"But your bill is only two hundred dollars," Daphne says a bit disillusioned by the discovery upon counting. "You have given me a thousand dollars."
"Don't be too loud," Edith Summerman whispers humorously. "I know I have you a thousand dollars for a two hundred dollar meal. Consider the remaining eight hundred as a tip."
"Oh my goodness," Daphne says, beaming with a fascinating smile that wows Edith Summerman. "You are too kind."
"C'mon, now," Edith Summerman says, reciprocating the smile. "We rise by lifting others. Haven't you heard that before?"
Daphne, stares blushing. "Thank you very much for the lift."
"It's okay," Edith Summerman says, sneaking a peek at the wristwatch sitting on her wrist and realizing she is behind her schedule as she rises to her feet hurriedly. "Oops, I have to go now."
"Thank you so much once again," Daphne Luna repeats again and Edith Summerman smiles briefly, very excited she has been able to touch Daphne's life so much to warrant such profound appreciation, as she heads out of the restaurant and for Chris Hanks' ward.
When she arrives Chris Hanks' room in the hospital, her heart is overjoyed to see the piece of paper he holds to his face as she recalls the blue color and the lipstick stain she left on the back of the paper, she believed would make him know how special he is to her when he takes it up in his hand to read it. Keeping it beside him, she hoped the scent of her perfume on the paper would remind him of her, and it did actually. Like a child drawn to his mother's cooking, the scent of her perfume had been a little bit part of the reason he'd regained consciousness.
"Look who's awake?," Edith Summerman says with so much excitement as she rushes over to give him a mild hug and a kiss on the forehead. "I was so scared that would have been the last time I would see you."
"Hi, Ed," Chris Hanks says smiling as he recognizes the voice, moving the paper away from his eyes so he can look up at Edith Summerman from where he is lain. "Y'know you cannot get rid of me that easily."
"C'mon....stop that," Edith Summerman says with a light bump to his chest. "How can I want to rid of something other people are looking so desperately for? I'd be a fool, Wouldn't I?"
"Well, when you put it like that. Okay," comes Chris Hanks' response with a weak smile, fatigued from fighting for his life, and in that moment, tears of joy begin to cloud Edith Summerman's eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just so happy you are alive," Edith Summerman posits. "Because I don't know how I would have continued in this life without you."
"You don't have to worry about that," Chris Hanks replies with the same tired smile. "I'm right here. I'm grateful you are too."
"I love you so much, Chris," Edith Summerman says softly hugging him once again. "You don't know how much you mean to me."
"Oh, I think I do," Chris Hanks holds the paper up in the air with a proud smile and then proceeds to read it with excitement while Edith Summerman listens with a quiet smile. "Get Well Soon...I have tried to gather....gather up the cour..."
"Chris....", Edith Summerman calls out smiling gently tapping him, hoping he has not gone unconscious. "Chris....please stay with me."
Edith Summerman slams her hand against the call button in the room frantically, immediately sensing danger, while also yelling at the top of her voice the words SOMEBODY-HELP-ME-PLEASE.
A diligent doctor accompanied by two nurses-one male and one female come bursting through the door swiftly.
"Please help me doctor," Edith Summerman pleads as soon as the doctor and his nurses walk in. "He was reading something and all of sudden he just blacked out."
"Please get this woman out of here," Dr. Ivan Markovic, the Croatian Neurosurgeon flown in to assist with Chris Hanks' case, says to his nurses as he attempts to understand the reason behind Chris Hanks' collapse.
"Please save him," Edith Summerman screams as she is escorted out by the nurses, however forcefully, as she struggles. "Don't let him die."
Well, the doctor will do the best he can to deliver on her request but he is neither a hero nor a god, not even a saviour so he...she...they can only hope for the best outcome. She sits on the floor outside the ward, to the sympathetic of each person that passes by the ward while she sits there, almost completely hopeless about the possibility of Chris Hanks survival. Negative reports, mostly fatal, were what she knew this kind of cases, with multiple medical personnel attending to it, ended in.
"Ms. Summerman?," Dr. Markovic calls out to her with a little tap on her shoulders that jolts her back into reality. "....I'm sorry if I startled you but may we go to my office to discuss please. It's just down the hall."
She struggles to hold herself from asking the golden question of the moment as she gets up from the floor to follow behind Dr. Markovic who seems to walk too briskly, she imagines it comes with the terrain being that they in the profession he is, need to be proactive at all times ready for eventualities. "Is he gonna be okay?" she asks hurrying behind Dr. Markovic who appears unwilling to answer her anywhere else than in his office as a matter of professional courtesy.
Arriving his office some thirty seconds later, he pushes the door open and holds it to let Edith Summerman in.
"Please have a seat, ma'am," he says politely before walking over to his own chair behind his desk but only sits after Edith Summerman does.
"Thank you very much, Doctor," she says briefly, easing herself into the chair then without wasting any more time, she shoots. "Please what's the matter with Chris? Please tell me."
By now, Dr. Markovic can see how tensed Edith Summerman is about the discussion.
"Madam, I'll need you to calm down a little as I can sense you're very tensed right now," Dr. Markovic says placatingly. "Who are you to the patient, please?"
"Oh, I'm his....girlfriend," Edith Summerman says with a little hesitation considering the fact that she had turned down his proposal, a deed that happened to be a major contributor to the life-and-death situation Chris Hanks faces currently.
"Oh, that's great," Dr. Markovic continues. "You see your boyfriend suffered a brain bleed. We were able to get it under control as you could see when you walked in earlier."
"Yes," Edith Summerman says passively. "So what seems to be the issue now?"
Taking a cue from Edith Summerman's facial expression, Dr. Markovic pauses unsure of how best to tell her about the situation but when she gives him an expectant stare, he breaks.
"I'm very sorry but..." Dr. Markovic pauses again.
"But what?" Edith Summerman queries almost in tears as she imagines the worst night have happened and that is why the doctor is so hesitant to speak. "Talk to me...please."
"I'm afraid we may have put Chris into a medically induced coma for at least the next two weeks...."
"Wait a minute," Edith Summerman interjects. "What?...Why?"
Dr. Markovic smiles at her seeming inexperience and moves to explain to her further. "You see Mr. Chris' brain suffered a relapse so it would need ample time to properly heal and while it is healing, it cannot be in use. It has to be shut down completely hence the induced coma we would be putting it in to enable it to fix itself....well, with our help anyways."
"And you said two weeks....?" Edith Summerman inquires anxiously.
"It could be less, it could be more," Dr. Markovic observes. "You cannot really say with cases like this."
This admission of uncertainty makes Edith Summerman uncomfirtable. She thinks it heavily unfair that life should attempt to take such a person as dear to her as Chris Hanks. Making up her mind, she promises herself one thing-while Chris Hanks' brain struggles to make it out of this unfavourable patch within these two weeks, three weeks or however longer, she'd make a point of duty to Chris Hanks to be with him through it all. Between her job and his bedside, she will do whatever it takes to make it work. Being the owner of one of the most popular cleaning agency in the country, this decision would test her elasticity beyond her wildest imagination.
"Please you have to do whatever it takes to make it less if you c....," Edith Summerman pleads but is interrupted by the ringing of her phone, answering she says. "Hello....I'm on my way."
"You must be really busy a fellow," Dr. Markovic says when she ends the call. "I am guessing you have to be on your way now?"
"You have no idea," says Edith Summerman, letting out an exhausted sigh. "But before I leave, can I see him?"
"Most definitely," Dr. Markovic says obligingly, getting himself out of his chair and walking across his table to escort Edith Summerman to see Chris Hanks. Edith Summerman and Dr. Markovic walk to Chris' ward, towards his bed and Edith Summerman kisses him on the forehead, while Dr. Markovic watches in admiration.
"Hey, hun," Edith Summerman says as she hugs him passionately with tears in her eyes as Chris lies expressionless and cold incapable of reciprocating such. "I know you probably cannot hear me..."
"Oh he can hear you quite alright," Dr. Markovic cuts in but soon notices he should not have as he belatedly stops him from speaking. "He just can't understa....I will leave you both now."
He walks himself out of the ward to return to his office or maybe to another ward to attend to other patients, in order to give Edith Summerman the privacy she requested with the pause she made when he cut in.
"...so my dear," Emily Summerman continues with her train of thought which had almost been derailed by Dr. Markovic. "I need to fight for me, for you, for us because honestly I don't think I want to do this life with anyone else but you. So please fight for us. I have to go now. There are a few things I need to handle at the office then I will stop by your house....I'm sure it must be sparkling now. I will be back soon. Please fight, fight for us. I love you and I'll waiting for you right here."
Moving closer again, she plants another kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment, the tears begin to roll out of her eyes slowly, before it snowballs into hot tears as she pulls her lips away from his. Broken by the helplessness she sees in him, she steps back in three unbalanced paces, her hands to her mouth in utter disbelief, she turns her face away from Chris Hanks and jets out of the ward in tears.
"Oh Lord please," she thinks to herself as she steps into the driver's seat of her Veloxa Flux, touching the ignition, it starts up. "Bring him out of this please. He has to make it out please. He just has to."
Shifting the gear into drive and pressing the throttle while looking in the rearview mirror as for some reason, the rearview display on the LED dash screen, she is surprised to hear a crashing sound, feel herself fall forward and the SRS airbag on it, bursting into her face and
propelling her backwards against her seat, her head snapping backwards in surprise as she immediately turns off the engine. She imagines for a second, she has just died from the impact as she touches up on her body frantically to confirm she is still there, intact.
Touching her face, she feels a little wetness just above her right eye socket, the ridge of her eyebrow. Bringing it down to her eye view, however blurry, she can see some blood on the fingers of the left hand she had touched her face with. Wondering how and why her fingers are bloody, she looks into rear view mirror to confirm if her forehead truly bleeds as if it had no right to, despite the accident. To her greatest surprise, it is.
Attempting to get out of the car, she finds something really terrifying, she cannot move her legs. Both of them appear unresponsive to the signals sent from her brain to them.
"Madam, do you understand the words I am speaking to you?," asks Dr. Ricardo Fernandez who had led a team of three nurses to the parking lot as soon as they heard the loud crashing sound. "You have just been in an accident."
Edith Summerman coughs. And like a cloud, changing without warning, she begins to act erratically.
"What did you just say?" Edith Summerman asks panickingly, struggling to get out of the car while yelling and weeping as she thinks of Chris Hanks and instantly remembering the poem she had forgot to give him just before leaving his bedside. "Oh no, you can't be serious. I can't be in an accident. I just can't. God ple...."
Right then, without warning, Dr. Ricardo Fernandez pushes two milligrams of Lorazepam into Edith Summerman's bloodstream to make her relax so they(the doctor and his team) can do their job of saving her life without interruptions from her using the vehicle of erratic panicking. Having sedated her,
"Please bring me the stretcher," Dr. Ricardo Fernandez throws a call out to the members of his team. "Very quickly please."
"Her legs are stuck, Dr. Fernandez," Nurse Vivian Haslett points out to the rest of the team, believing, quite rightly, the rest had not noticed and hence were quick to respond to Dr. Fernandez's instruction to bring the stretcher.
Dr. Fernandez pauses for a minute, realizing his folly. "In that case, get the fire department in here immediately. We would need their jaws of life if this woman should live."
Nurse Jacqueline Petersen flashes a brief smile in response to the subtle humour attempted by Dr. Fernandez and then quickly turning in the direction of the hospital building, she hurries off to use the hospital's phone to call up the nearest fire station to request the deployment of a fire truck to the hospital's location as soon as possible. Quite promptly, just as Jacqueline Petersen is coming out from the hospital to join the rest of the team pending the arrival of the firetruck she just requested barely a minute ago, a fire truck is seen racing through the hospital gates headed for the parking lot, sirens blaring, flashing lights, blue and red escorted by two police cruisers one ahead, one behind which had been the reason for their timely arrival taking into consideration, the traffic conditions.
Dr. Fernandez is overjoyed. "She does not get to die on us, hallelujah," he says to his nurses.
"Honestly," Nurse Louis Williams concurs excitedly and looking up in the direction of the fire truck, he waves them over to where all three nurses are standing with Dr. Fernandez beside Edith Summerman's vehicle. Hissing before coming to a complete stop, two officers-a man and a woman dressed in firemen gear jump out of the fire truck, the woman from the right and the man from the left, both firefighters.
These two quickly go to assess the situation on ground, to determine what tool would be required for the task.
"Quickly, Ella, please get me the spreaders and the cutters from the jaws of life," Firefighter Andy says to his colleague Ella who immediately rushes to the side of the truck to locate and retrieve the tools to bring it to Andy.
"Here you go," says Ella, handing Andy the cutters with urgency in her voice while she goes to insert the spreader at one side of the door in order to enable Andy cut through the metal with the cutters she handed him.
Dr. Fernandez watches with amazement as the firemen work. "Such an energetic profession, don't you think?"
"Indeed, it's not for the weak at all," Nurse Jacqueline Petersen says fascinatedly. "I could never."
Both firefighters struggle to rescue Edith Summerman from the vehicle ignoring the laudations given them by the doctor and his nurses, running against time to save her as with every second her legs are stuck in there, she goes closer to losing the chance of making it out alive.
Time, no friend of theirs, with a subversive intent seems to work hard with the grimreaper to hasten the possible passing of Edith Summerman as it takes them a minute less than a hour to safely cut through the door to rescue her from the wreckage.
"Let's bring her in quickly," Dr. Fernandez says to his nurses as he places an IV tube into her veins carefully, puts her on oxygen, and restraints to prevent her from shaking as they hurriedly wheel her into the hospital for immediate attention.
She will have to fight for her life, just like Chris Hanks, as her fate hangs by a tiny thread, owing to the time she had spent waiting to be rescued by the firefighters, moving her from crush syndrome to the kidney injury she now suffers in her unconsciousness.
Rushed into the emergency ward, she is given a room next to Chris Hanks while they run a few test to determine the best treatment for her. Blood is drawn, taken to the laboratory and tested, saliva swabbed and tested as well. All the while these are done, the doctor is in his office with his heart in his mouth awaiting so earnestly the Eureka moment from the laboratory technician who diligently examines the samples.
"Eureka," the Laboratory technician, LT Lisa Johansson screams. And in that moment, she wishes someone were there with her in the laboratory because the discovery makes her so excited, she wants to give someone a hug but having no one around, she engages a self hug for a minute or two. Smiling from cheek to cheek, one would think she actually has someone in her arms right there then she tells herself. "You have done well, Lisa."
Immediately, she types in her findings into a word document that she names Eureka, she always gave her documents unconventional names, forwarding it to Dr. Fernandez to enable him know what the next line of action is to be taken and moreso without any further hesitation.
Dr. Fernandez, on hearing his computer ding on his office desk of mahogany wood covered in glass finish. "Who could that be?" he asks as he rolls his chair closer to the computer. The sender's name-Lisa J.- is revealed in the notification bar. A tension seems to grab Dr. Fernandez in his chest as he wonders what news the mail would carry- nothing so serious or something gravely serious. Clicking open the mail, what he reads leaves him dazed. He thought she was still in the systemic toxic phase, whereas by the result there is high acid presence in her blood stream, quickly gunning for her life.
There is not much time to waste if he is interested in saving her life, as is the purpose of his profession as a doctor. As quickly as possible, Dr. Fernandez calls the nursing station to request a dispatch of three nurses to go ahead of him into Edith Summerman while he is on his way to her.
Three nurses, Nurses Allison Carter, Lewis Franz and Henrietta Govan, get on their feet and head for Edith Summerman's room. To their greatest surprise and shock, what they see breaks their hearts as they are well aware of how she had been coming to the hospital eversince Chris Hanks' admission, weeping profusely for him to be saved but here she is, lying completely lifeless.
Edith Summerman is lain whitecold on the hospital--the pain the nurses feel at the sight of this is unquantifiable--especially when they remember Chris Hanks' state. While they are yet weeping, shaking their heads and talking about how unfortunate the happening is, Dr. Fernandez walks in frantically,
"How is the patient?," Dr. Fernandez asks as he hurries in, his head faced down on the device in his hand which has a copy of the laboratory technician's report. "Hope we are not too late?"
The nurses remain quiet for a while unsure of how to break the news of Edith Summerman's death to Dr. Fernandez until one of them, Henrietta Govan steps forward to bell the cat,
"Doctor," Nurse Henrietta Govan begins. "By the time we got here, she was already dead. There was nothing we could do."
"Oh my goodness," Dr. Fernandez says , looking pitifully at the lifeless body of Edith Summerman, wondering how he would break the news to Chris Hanks if he eventually wakes up. How is he to tell a man who has just finished battling for his own life that the one for whom he was fighting off the dogs of death had now been eaten by the same ruthless set of dogs? "This is not a good day at all. Please call the morgue and have her transferred immediately."
The nurses immediately leave Dr. Fernandez who still looks so unbelievably at Edith Summerman, shocked at the fact that only just yesterday she was up and down the hospital trying to make sure Chris Hanks gets the best of attention as was needed and today, she is lying out of breath, out of life.
"Rest in peace, Ms. Summerman," Dr. Fernandez says to Edith Summerman before backing away from her corpse. "You have really done well. Don't worry no more. I would give your love to Chris Hanks when we can get him out of the brain bleed. In the meantime, rest well."
Having said that, he walks himself out of the ward and back to his office to stomach the death which seems to shake him so greatly, beating himself up so greatly for allowing her to die.
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