“Just stay for a little bit,” she says. “I could use the company, and frankly, I think you owe it to me after ditching out on me this morning.”
“Sorry about that,” I tell her. “Actually, I’m sorry about everything. In med school, they tell you not to get personally involved in your patients’ lives, but I think I’ve rejected that advice to a pretty astounding degree with you.”
Grace shrugs and says, “Shit happens. Are you going to try calling her or not?”
I nod and pull out my phone. The line rings, but eventually goes to voicemail. I try it again, but after only a couple of rings it goes to voicemail again.
“Rejecting your calls?” Grace asks.
I don’t answer.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “You can stay here until you hear something from her.”
“Okay,” I answer, detached.
“You know, if you really want to get back at her, we could always make our own video. I mean, I’m on chemo now, but I’m sure we could figure something out.”
I absolutely never know when she’s joking about stuff like that. There’s not really time for me to find out, though, as my phone starts to ring.
“Just a second,” I tell Grace and answer the call. “Hello?”
“What are you doing?” Melissa asks.
“Where are you?” I return.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Melissa asks.
“I wasn’t feeling up to it,” I tell her.
“Where are you?” she asks.
“I’m out,” I answer. “Why?”
“When are you going to be back?”
“I was just waiting to get a hold of you,” I tell her. “I can be back home in 20 minutes, if you’d-”
“Why aren’t you at work?” she repeats.
“I told you,” I answer, “I wasn’t feeling up to it. How did you know I wasn’t at work anyway?”
“I’m not home,” she says, out of context.
“Where are you?”
“I’ll be home in a few hours,” she says. “Then, I think we should talk.”
“I think that would be a good idea,” I answer.
The line is quiet, and for a few seconds, I’m thinking that she’s hung up.
“You watched the video,” she says.
“Yeah, I watched the video,” I answer.
“How did you-”
“You know,” I tell her, “I think you should probably head home now. I’ll meet you there.”