Drunk Dial - Page 22

I panicked. “What are you doing?”

He spoke to the woman at the counter. “I’d like to pay for her flight, please.”

What?

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s seven-hundred dollars plus tax, one way.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” His hand trembled a bit as he took his credit card out of his worn, brown leather wallet and handed it to her.

I stood in silence, shocked at the generosity that I was witnessing from a man I’d deemed a creeper just minutes ago. That old perv had become my guardian angel on Earth.

He looked at me. “If the love of my life was in danger, you’d better believe I’d need to be on that flight. Actually, the love of my life is dead, but she was an old romantic, and if she were here, she’d be telling me to pay for that gypsy girl’s flight.”

“Thank you, Mister…what is your name?”

“Ralph Issacson.”

“Mr. Issacson, I will forever be grateful for this. Please write down your information so I can pay you back.”

He held out his hand. “That’s really not necessary. It gives me great pleasure to do this for you. And I don’t need the money.”

There was no time to argue. I needed to thank this man before rushing onto the flight. The only thing I could think of that I knew he might want happened to be free.

Taking his face in my hands, I planted a firm kiss on his lips. He looked frazzled but extremely satisfied with my impulsive gesture. A permanent smile seemed to be glued onto his face. I definitely left him dazed and confused.

Running to the gate with only minutes to spare, I said five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys.

With no bags, I was able to whiz through security without any issues, except one small snafu when the metal embellishments on my belly dancer garb caused the detectors to go off. They cleared me, and I arrived at the boarding area just in the knick of time.

Did I mention I’d never been on a plane before?TELL ME SOMETHING FUNNYEvery moment of the five-hour flight was spent shaking my knees up and down. I used to think I would be afraid to fly, but I found myself far more fearful of what awaited me on the ground.

Unable to concentrate on anything but Landon, I couldn’t even read or focus on the movie to get my mind off of things.

Once we landed, I asked a stranger for money to take public transportation, which let me off right in front of Los Angeles Memorial Hospital.

I looked ridiculous, with runny mascara and a coat thrown over my belly dancer outfit. Feeling like I was going to pass out from heat, I took the coat off, which meant everyone was staring at me in my beaded bra top. It didn’t matter to me; all that mattered was getting to Landon.

I stopped at the front desk. “I’m here to see Landon Roderick. Can you tell me where he is?”

My heart was in my mouth the entire time the receptionist was searching the system. I braced for her response.

“He’s in Room 410. Take the elevator up to the fourth floor and follow the signs to the East Wing.”

I let out the breath I was holding as a rush of relief ran through me.

He was still here.

He was alive.

Thank you, God!

Having no clue what I was going to say or do, I ran into the empty elevator and pressed the number four button. My heart beat faster with each change of the digits.

Suddenly, my nerves were starting to get the best of me. Unable to fight the tears that were forming in my eyes, I wondered if I was really going to be able to handle seeing him. Or worse, what if he didn’t want me here under these circumstances?

The elevator dinged and opened to Landon’s floor.

I lingered for a moment before taking a deep breath and stepping out.

Unable to remember where the receptionist had told me to go, I must have looked as frazzled as I felt because a nurse stopped to offer me help.

“Where are you headed?”

“Room 410?”

She pointed to a few doors down. “That’s right there, but it’s empty. The patient just checked out.”

“Where is he?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t give you that information. It’s confidential.”

“Was he definitely discharged?”

She hesitated. “I believe so.”

“How long ago?”

“Maybe about twenty minutes ago.”

Swallowing hard, I made my way back toward the elevators in shock. My throat was parched; I hadn’t had anything to drink in hours, and soon I was going to pass out on this floor and need to be admitted myself.

Where was I going next? I had no clue.

As I ventured back down to the lobby, I looked around in vain for any sign of him. It was getting late, nearing midnight, and I needed to find him. Where else was I going to go if not to him? I just hoped the woman was right and that he was truly discharged and okay as opposed to transferred somewhere else. I needed to know for certain that he was going to be alright.

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