The ringing of the telephone was magnified by the pounding headache that was all consuming. I stretched my body as best as I could on the sofa that I could only assume belonged to Chris and placed my hands over my forehead.
“Answer the phone,” I groaned as I slowly opened my eyes and tried to bring the world into focus. “How much did I drink?” I asked no one in particular, while I fought down the vomit that was trying to force its way up my esophagus.
“Clearly, more than you can handle,” said the oh so familiar voice of Dr. Mokena.
“What are you doing here?” I groaned.
“I live here,” she said in a flat tone.
Perhaps I just heard it as flat because of my all-consuming headache. I tried to sit up, but the pain was so excruciating that I was sure I’d lose the battle with the vomit.
“I’m sick,” I said matter-of-factly.
“I’m not surprised,” she said. “I’ll get you some Alka-Seltzer. It will help with both your stomach and head.”
“I need something really strong for my head,” I urged.
“I doubt that your stomach would tolerate anything else. Just trust me and drink the Alka-Seltzer for now,” she said.
She was right. As I slowly sipped on the bubbly medicine, my stomach settled down and my headache reduced to a more tolerable level.
“Where’s Chris?” I asked as I slowly looked around the room. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my apartment,” she explained.
“That’s right, you already said that… I think,” I mused aloud. “I’ve no clue how I got here.”
“I brought you here. I happened to be passing that quaint little Irish pub that you imbibed in. When I saw them struggling with you and your friend, I offered to help. Neither of you were in any condition to tell me where you lived. So, I brought you home with me,” Dr. Mokena said in a low voice. “Your friend is on the sofa in my den.”
“You know where I live,” I protested as I struggled to sit straight up.
“I have your address on file in my office. I certainly don’t carry it around with me in the event that I might stumble upon your drunken backside on the streets of Queens,” she said briskly.
“I need to go home,” I said as I stood on shaky legs.
“Who is Bart?” she asked.
“He’s an old boyfriend,” I replied sadly. “He’s dead.” After a moment, I added, “We were engaged once.”
“I see,” she said, thoughtfully. “Is that the reason for your drunken fest?”
“I don’t know,” I said with frustration. “I went there with Chris to have a drink or two to unwind. Out of nowhere, comes this guy from my childhood. He bullied me from the time I entered kindergarten until I graduated. He’s a real son-of -a-bitch. For some crazy reason, he decided to look me up to tell me that Bart died. Then, he tried to act chivalrous when he saw I drank too much. It got messy.”
“Why would it get messy?” she asked.
“I didn’t want him near me, let alone aiding me,” I admitted. “Somehow, amidst all of the arguing, remembering past hurts, and frustration over the fact he wouldn’t disappear, I drank too much.”
“Which of the men helping you was Jack?” she asked.
“There was more than one?” I gasped.
“There were several men hovered around you when I stopped the cab,” she admitted. “I didn’t like the look of things. That’s why I stopped.”
“It was pretty stupid of us to get so smashed. The only male I knew in that bar was the creep from my past and he can hardly be trusted. I’d never seen the bartender before, if he was one of the men helping,” I said.
“There was a man with a crooked nose and acne scarred face, a man in an expensive suit,” she said as she counted on her fingers, “and I believe the other was the bartender.”
“I guess I owe you a huge thank you,” I sighed.
“Attending my retreat will do,” she chuckled.
“What’s it for again?” I asked.
“Trust me. It’s important for you to be there,” she assured me.
“Gertie!” Chris shouted with an agonized tone from the other room. “Where the hell are we?”
The apartment was one of six that were in a quaint brownstone on the east side of Queens. Although not overly large, it provided plenty of room for a professional who was single and looking for a place to nest and get away from it all. The room I was in was an open living space where she’d set up the living room and dining area. When I saw Chris come out of what looked to be the second bedroom, it was clear that the doctor had turned it into a small den for when she brought her work home with her.
“I need to pee,” Chris whined as she jiggled in place.
“It’s the door at the end of the hall,” Dr. Mokena said, patiently. She looked at me for a moment before adding, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “It’s just that… that guy in the suit… he looked familiar, but I can’t place where I saw him or how I know him.”
“Did he say that you two knew each other?” she asked.
“He never even said his name,” I said, thoughtfully. “He just came over to help get rid of Jack.”
“It must have been messy to attract a stranger to act as your hero,” she said with a grin.
“My head hurts like a bitch,” Chris grumbled as she returned from the bathroom. “Oh, hello,” she said as she focused on Dr. Mokena. “Thanks for putting us up.”
“You remember?” I said with surprise.
“She was less under the weather than you were. Although, she was still dangerously out of it,” Dr. Mokena explained.
“Yeah,” Chris admitted. “I remember bits and pieces, but not everything. It’s like someone slipped something in our drinks or something.”
“Do you think?” I said eagerly. “Not that I’d want that to happen, but it makes more sense than us drinking ourselves into stupors like that.”
“I’m trying to remember how many drinks we actually had,” Chris mused.
“I can settle this very easily,” Dr. Mokena said. “I have a friend who works in a lab. We can get her to draw a little blood and test it.”
“I don’t know if we need to go to all that trouble,” I said, warily.
“I think that I’d rather just go home,” Chris added.
“Okay,” the doctor said as she threw her hands in the air with exasperation. “If you feel that you don’t need to find out if it’s safe to drink there again, then skip the blood test.”
I bit my lower lip while I debated what to do. I really did just want to go home, but the doctor was right. Neither Chris nor I knew that bartender. What if he was in cohorts with some underground trafficking racket and drugged us. Maybe that handsome guy was there to whisk us off to market and Jack foiled his plans. Maybe he was trying to get rid of Jack for his own personal gain instead of for ours.
“She’s right,” I said to Chris. “We really should get that blood work done before our systems clear out.”
“I feel so bad,” Chris said.
“Drink some Alka Seltzer,” I offered. “It helped calm me down.” I turned to the doctor and asked, “Do you have more?”
She smiled, nodded, and headed for the kitchen to prepare a glass for Chris. Within a few minutes after drinking it down, not only had the color returned to her cheeks, but she was claiming hunger. I still hadn’t reached that point, which was a good thing since the doctor preferred that we wait until after our blood was drawn to eat something.
The lab was within walking distance. It gave Chris and me a chance to walk off some of the negative effects from the night before. I smiled to myself as I listened to Chris chatter away with Dr. Mokena about everything and anything. It wasn’t until she brought up the topic of Bart and the funeral that I noticeably scowled and asked them to change the subject.
Of course, that wasn’t about to happen. Not with my therapist in the mix. She poked and prodded until she pulled as much information about Bart and my former relationship with him as she could from me; mindless of the fact that Chris was hanging onto every juicy tidbit divulged. It wasn’t that I minded having my best friend listen in. I had nothing to hide on the subject. It’s just a personality quirk of mine. I’m not comfortable telling all… to anyone.
It was decided that, for closure purposes, I would attend the funeral. Chris offered to join me and I readily agreed. When I called my parents to tell them that I was coming and for what purpose, they made a watered-down attempt to dissuade me. I’m sure that they were battling the mixed emotions of wanting to see me after such a long gap in visits and wanting to protect me from the venomous talk of Bart’s family. I told them that I was bringing my best friend from work as a shield and assured them that I’d be fine. By the time our conversation ended, we were all excited about my coming, regardless of the reason.
I won’t say that I didn’t feel a sense of loss over Bert’s death. We were engaged once, after all. Even though it ended badly, I’d had feelings for him at one time. It’s just that the thought of sitting within the confines of the church amongst the ‘Gertie haters’ was more than either I or Chris wanted to endure. We decided to forgo the church and catch up with the funeral proceedings at the cemetery.I was surprised to see how intimate a crowd it was that gathered around the open grave. I stood close enough to hear the eulogy, but far enough away as not to intrude on what appeared to be a tight-knit gathering. My ever-supportive friend stayed glued to my side, gripping my elbow at times whenever someone from the group would look our way.I smiled to myself when I remembered the time that Bert accused me of being a lesbian. Chris’ intent on shielding me from the mourners could eas
True to his word, Marc picked us up at exactly twelve noon. He was parked outside and Chris and I were scrambling for the door when my mother asked us his identity. It was then that I realized that I had no clue what his full name was. I felt a little foolish telling her that it was Marc the lodge owner, but she knew right away who I was talking about. That was one of the advantages of living in a small town. Everyone knew about, if not actually knew, everyone.“I’ve never met the man, but I’ve heard nothing but good things about him,” my mother said as she smoothed my hair away from my face.“That’s good to hear,” I said.I considered taking the hint about introducing her to him, but the idea of my mother going out to the car to check out my date -even if he was taking both Chris and me to lunch, I knew that it was me who he’d really asked so, yes, I considered it a date- seemed a lit
Roger stomped into my office with his usual stressed out purplish face while waving a stack of papers in the air.“I could have used your help with these,” he snapped.“I went to a funeral,” I said in a bland tone.“It would be nice if people would coordinate their deaths with your work schedule,” he said as he eased himself onto the white leather sofa on the far side of my office and positioned his scuffed shoes on my glass top coffee table.“That’s insensitive, even for you,” I said.After a brief moment of reflection, he nodded and said, “I need to get away for a while.”“This job will do it to you,” I added.“You love your work,” he said with a grin.“That doesn’t mean it isn’t stressful,” I retorted.“We need better bosses. I think we should start a petition for the current owners to sell to
The debate during work the following day over what it was about Joshua that made him feel so different went on for a considerable length of time. Roger was adamant that the man was as straight as a board, so gaydom wasn’t it. Perhaps it was the fact that he was Canadian. Although, living in a state that borders Canada provides plenty of opportunities to meet people from there and I’d yet to meet someone who emitted such electrifying energy as Joshua had. Except for Marc, I’d met no one who emitted any type of electrifyingly erotic energy; ever.Although my friends were eager to see me align myself with a male they felt wasn’t a monkey in geek’s clothing, there were still apprehensive about my going out with Joshua the following night. Not being able to put a label on what we all felt was unsettling, it was agreed that when we got where we were going, I’d call Chris or Roger to let them know where I was.&n
As I made my way into my office wearing a grin like the cat who’d caught the canary, I considered my actions of the night before. I may have acted out of character, but I didn’t regret making love to Joshua Hanson. I’d at least made certain that I had his full name, place of birth, size of family, and birthday before I fell into bed with him. That had to stand for something.My body still tingled from his touch. My heart still swelled from his words. For the first time in my life, I was really and truly in love. So many people never find the kind of love that we had. It was an amazing thing. What was even more amazing was how quickly it happened. It was literally overnight!“Do you believe in love at first sight?” I asked when Chris entered with a cup of coffee and some Danish.“You were supposed to check in with either me or Roger. I spoke with Roger and he did
“She’s coming around,” Chris said through the darkness.I could hear her talking with people nearby, but I was unable to open my eyes or utter a word. I eventually gained control of my hand and raised it to my neck. There was a thick bandage on it. I tried to force my tongue and vocal cords to cooperate and ask what was happening, but all I could get out was a long groan.“Gertrude, this is Dr. Mokena. Your friends say that you were attacked by a feral dog. You are in St. Peter’s Hospital. Can you open your eyes?” I heard in the distance.The first thing that came to mind was the question of why Dr. Mokena was in the hospital room with me. She was a therapist, not a surgeon. I searched my memory bank while I tried to grab bits and pieces of what happened, but it was blank. The only things I could pull up was Joshua’s horrific idea of a sexy interlude in the alle
On the morning of my birthday, I was able to move around enough to go outside and enjoy the beauty of my surroundings to their fullest. Marc still insisted on carrying me, even though I assured him my legs were fine and that I could easily walk on my own. Admittedly, I didn’t press the issue since it gave me a chance to wrap my arms around his neck and pretend that we were the love couple I dreamt of each night.He carefully set me down onto a lounge chair he’d moved from the covered porch onto the lawn so that I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face. Beside the lounge, he’d placed a side table and a chair so someone could sit with me, should I desire the company.I smiled when I saw Luis making his way toward us. He wheeled a tea cart laden with snacks and beverages along the smooth walkway. Close behind him were his two assistants. They carried a small table that I assumed they intended to set up to se
I inherently knew that the taxicab I’d spotted coming up the long drive was delivering my two friends. By the time I’d managed to make my way to the porch, it was parked in the circular driveway at the bottom of the steps with Chris, Roger, and Peter climbing out. I looked for Tom, but saw no sign of him. Chris must have noticed because she shrugged and smiled. It wasn’t unusual for Tom to stay behind when we got together. We had very little in common and, although Roger, Pete, and I tolerated him, we often wondered what Chris saw in him. To me, their relationship validated the saying that opposites attract.Roger stopped to take in the view while Chris bounded up the stairs to wrap her arms around me.“I’m still a little sore,” I warned her as she spread her arms wide.“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” she said as she gently hugged me. “My ga