0 comments

General

The waiting room was cold and stark, the generic wall art grating on the man’s already frayed nerves. The harsh scent of chemicals burned his senses until he wasn’t certain he’d be able to smell again. The light bouncing off the too white walls made his eyes hurt, but no matter how much he pressed on and rubbed them, it offered no relief.

Still, he wouldn’t leave his uncomfortable seat.

He’s been told countless times that he should go home and get some rest; that someone would call him when they found anything out, but he wouldn’t hear it. Eventually, the young blonde had stopped coming out from behind the counter to say anything to him.

And then she’d left and was replaced by another woman, this one a pretty redhead. She had also encouraged him to return home, but he’d simply ignored her. He was certain that, if she hadn’t have known why he was here, she would have taken his rude attitude as an insult.

And he was being rude to these people. He knew it, but he just couldn’t help himself.

He’d been raised to be polite and always be respectful and mindful of his manners, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. These people held his life in the palms of their hands, and he didn’t want to go anywhere until they could either give him the peace he so desperately needed, or they brought his world crumbling down around him.

Only then, when he finally had answers to the questions that tormented him so much, would he be able to walk out of this place he was quickly coming to despise.

The redhead slipped out from behind the counter, once more coming his way. He didn’t look at her, but he saw her approaching him from the corner of his eye. He had to fight not to snap at her; not to tell her to go to hell because he wasn’t leaving unless they called the cops and made him get out.

But the woman didn’t say a word to him, and he felt a deep stab of guilt for his initial furious reaction when she quietly place a plastic cup of water on the table in front of him.

He met her eyes, not trusting himself to speak, and hoped that his expression could convey his thanks for the simple, kind gesture that she had bestowed upon him. When she gave him a small smile in response, he nearly broke down because he could see the sympathy in her eyes. There was no doubt that she knew why he was here, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many others she’d seen sitting here in his position.

Had she comforted them with her kind gestures and gentle eyes like she did him?

He watched her for a moment longer as she turned and moved around behind the desk once more. But when she disappeared into the closed door back there, he turned his attention to the cup before him, watching his hands wrap around it without ever thinking about doing so.

Instead of lifting it to his lips, he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts, his mind traveling into his past as he looked over his life for the clues that he must have missed. For the things that he must have overlooked or simply been too blinded to see. He was still sitting there, the cup held between his clammy hands and staring into the clear liquid, several minutes later when someone lowered themselves into the seat beside him, causing him to start.

He looked over to see the redhead was back, a brown paper bag in one hand and a couple small bags of chips from the vending machine out in the hall in the other hand. Without saying anything, she opened the paper bag and began spreading her lunch out on the table in front of them.

He watched her in silence, touched beyond what his words might relay when she placed a bag of chips, half her sandwich, a cup of fruit, and two cookies in front of him. She stood up and left the room again, coming back only a moment later with two cans of pop, one of which she placed before him with the food.

His jaw trembled with emotion as he met her gaze, feeling his eyes water when she reached out and took one of his hands in hers, squeezing gently as those sea green eyes conveyed a strength to his blue ones that he didn’t think he could muster on his own.

He put the cup of water down and in silence, while still holding hands, the two began to work their way through the meal this woman had decided to share with a stranger that she could see was hurting and in need.

He was halfway through the turkey sandwich when his tears began to fall, a sense of complete despair washing over him. Still, the woman didn’t say a word. Instead, she put her own food down and took him in her arms, holding him close as the small measure of control he’d held over himself finally cracked under the pressure.

When he pulled himself together, slightly embarrassed that he’d cried in front of this beautiful woman whose kindness had been more than he could handle, she merely picked up a box of tissues from a nearby end table and handed them to him before returning to her food, pretending she didn’t see the evidence of his supposed weakness.

Crying wasn’t something she would hold against him.

They finished their shared meal in silence, no longer touching except for the occasional brush of their knees. Once done, she gathered up their trash and disposed of it, giving his hand one last squeeze before returning to her seat behind the counter.

The side door opened and another man walked in the room, headed straight for the desk without once looking around the room. If he had, he might have noticed the desolate man sitting in the back corner, looking like he hadn’t moved, slept, or showered in days. If he’d seen him, he might have simply left the waiting room instead of going and taking a seat along the opposite wall.

When he looked up, the two men locked gazes, shock and uncertainty warring in the eyes of one while anger and despair reflected in the other man’s face.

The door behind the desk opened and a man in a long white coat walked out, looking over the papers on his clipboard. He glanced up as he started for the back corner.

“Mr. Winters, Annette told me you were still waiting out here. We could have simply called you when the results came back in,” the doctor said quietly, his sympathetic tone causing a knife of pain to twist in the man’s gut. He shut his eyes against the pain, refusing to look up at the man sitting along the wall across from him. He felt when the doctor lowered himself into the chair beside him.

He took a shuddering breath, opening his eyes and meeting those of the other man waiting for news. “Just tell me.”

“Tom,” the doctor sighed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Just then, the door leading out of the office opened and woman’s head popped inside, her long blonde hair falling in golden waves around her lightly lined face. “Carl, honey, did you find anything out yet?” she asked even as her eyes scanned the room. She came to a sudden halt when she saw the doctor sitting in the back corner with Tom.

The doctor followed his gaze and made a sound of regret before apologizing and getting to his feet, promising to be back in a moment, as he realized the other man sat in the room too. When he reached the other man, he cast one more look over his shoulder at where Tom still sat, his face a mask of pain and hatred. He gestured for Carl to move to the door where the woman still stood.

Tom didn’t hear what was said, but he could guess by the way the woman refused to look his way again before the equally blond Carl hurried her out the door, his hand finding hers and sending a stab of pain through Tom’s shredded heart.

They left him to his grief, the first kind thing they’d done to him in the past month.

The doctor turned toward him after the door had closed and started his way, but Tom waved a hand to stop him.

“All of them?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

The doctor’s face would have been a composed mask, if not for the pity shining in his eyes. “Yes.”

Tom held his face in his hands, allowed his grief to overcome him. He heard the doctor apologize once more before slipping from the room, the door closing behind him. He sat there, his shoulders shaking, until slim fingers gently pried his hands away. He turned to find the pretty nurse beside him once more. He turned into her, grabbing at the strength and comfort that she offered him with her silent embrace as his world shattered around him.

He felt numb. Fifteen years of marriage, down the drain. A business partner and best friend who had betrayed him with the woman he loved most, his beloved wife. And, worse than anything else, learning that the four children he’d loved and raised weren’t even his…

July 09, 2020 04:33

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.