The traffic isn’t too bad late Sunday morning. Things I wouldn’t know because I’ve always been at work by now. The guilt of not being at work continues to eat at me, but the idea of getting to spend time with Dr. Hawkins and Romeo numbs the agitation grinding against my nerves. I pull into their circle drive at 10:30. The blue Tesla is nowhere to be seen, so I wait.
A red Lexus SUV pulls up behind me ten minutes later. I know that car and the woman getting out—Dr. Hathaway. She unfastens Roman from his car seat and walks up beside my car, giving me a polite smile. I smile back and slowly open my door. If I stay inside, she might tell his parents. Then I’ll be the weird woman sitting in their driveway. There is no disputing my slightly weird personality, but I try to avoid consciously putting it on display to the whole world.
So, instead of being the weird stranger sitting in my car, I turn into the weird stranger staying five steps behind Dr. Hathaway and Roman as they walk up to the front door.
“Dorfee!” He smiles, looking back at me.
Dr. Hathaway glances back as well.
“Dorfee, why are you here?”
“I’m here to have brunch with you, Romeo.”
“Hi.” Dr. Hathaway smiles. “I’m Julie. When did you meet Roman?”
“Dorfee is a superhero!” He tugs on Julie’s hand, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Shh …” I hold a finger to my lips and wink at him. “That’s a secret. Remember?”
Julie’s smile morphs into something a little uneasy. Clearly, I don’t look familiar to her. And I shared secrets with her son. Nothing creepy about that.
“Dorothy Mayhem. I’m actually a patient transporter at your hospital … and a nursing student.” I stop. Someone needs to send me a high-five emoji for having such self-control. I want—really want—to talk about her work and studies. The million things she’s done to help kids.
“Oh, then I’ve probably seen you there.” The line along her forehead eases a bit.
“You have.”
She nods slowly, inspecting me—the woman who calls her son Romeo and is having brunch with her ex in-laws. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you. I see so many faces.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“So … how is it that you know Roman? Wait …” She narrows her eyes. “Dorothy the superhero. X-ray vision. Roman did mention you. He said you ate spaghetti with him and wore a bib. I thought you were an imaginary friend.”
“Oh. Ha! No. I’m real.”
“So you’re a friend of Eli’s?”
“Grandma!” Roman runs into the house when the door opens.
His grandma hugs him while her gaze ping-pongs between me and Julie. “Hi. Julie. And you must be Dorothy.”
“Hi. Yes. Nice to meet you.” I brush past Julie and hold out my hand, not that handshakes are my thing, but I want to blend in at brunch. I want his parents to like me.
“I’m Lori. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Dorothy.”
“Bye, Roman. I love you,” Julie calls, but he’s already rushed into the house. “Okay. So, nice seeing you, Lori. And nice officially meeting you, Dorothy.”
I feel bad for Julie. She seems nervous. Not at all like my boss bitch idol.
“You too. See you around at the hospital.”
She nods, sliding on her sunglasses as she walks back to her vehicle, dressed in fitted jeans, a gray sweater, and black ankle boots. Her red hair hangs long and wavy around her shoulders instead of in a ponytail or messy bun like it does at work. At least she looks like I imagined Boss Bitch would look like outside of the hospital—casual but still very classy.
“Come in, Dorothy. Did you get Eli’s message? He had an emergency. He’ll get here as soon as he can. We didn’t know if you’d show up or not. He said he’d give you the option of coming another Sunday. But I’m so glad you decided to come today.”
I glance at my watch. Yep. There’s a message from him. How did I miss that?
Dr. Hawkins: Hi. I’ve been called in for an emergency. I’m hoping to still make it for brunch. You’re welcome to go there and hang out with Roman and my parents, but I assume you’ll choose a different day when I’m not running late. Call you later! Or I might see you at the hospital if you decide to go in now.
Just … great. I smile. “Missed his message. I’ll reschedule for another Sunday.” I turn, taking steps toward my car.
Oh my god! I didn’t have to be here! Why am I here?
“Wait? No! You should stay, Dorothy. I would absolutely love for you to stay. My daughters couldn’t make it today, so it’s just Roman, Kent, and me … and of course Eli when he shows up.”
I don’t want to stay.
Nope.
No way.
Five years earlier, I would have kept shaking my head, slid into my car, and skidded out of their driveway. But I no longer act on total impulse all the time. I’ve practiced deciphering neurotypicals, imagining what they would do in my situation, and reacting/mimicking accordingly.