Page 6 of You've Got Hate Mail
She’s gonna get soap in her eyes, and we’ll have one good eye between the two of us.
“Meow meow?” Lav says in the other room.
“Mabel doesn’t know she needs the kitty translator either.” I taught Lav to send voice messages over text before she learned to read, and it’s still easier for her than spelling long messages.
“Mabel, there’s a funny naked woman in the bathroom with Daddy and there’s a lot of screaming. Can you come?” Lav says.
I need several deep breaths.
And an ice pack.
And the luxury of being able to drown myself in hard liquor every once in a while without worrying about what my kid will get into next.
But since none of those are options, I briefly squeeze my eyes shut. The ladies here will know what she means, but we’re still working on some of our communication skills.
“Go away,” the woman in the tub says again.
Love to, lady.
I have my own injury to tend to, and I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing about summer care for Lav now that camp’s no longer an option.
But it’s not in my nature to walk away from someone injured.
So I grab the robe behind the door, drape it over this woman’s naked body, and channel the very last bits of patience that I have left with this day to focus my attention on the woman’s face.
She has round cheeks. Plump lips. I registered brown eyes in the split second before her fist connected with my eye socket.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
Say yes so I can leave.
“Go away,” she repeats, a tremor in her voice.
“You hit your head.”
“Done worse.Go away.”
“I spent ten years as an EMT. Promise, all I want to do is make sure we don’t need to call for more help.”
“You’re a hallucination.” Her eyes pinch tighter.
Lav’s voice drifts in from the bedroom again. “Meow meow me—Ginny, do you have a kitty translator so you can understand me? Daddy’s in the bathroom with a naked woman. Meow. Meowpuuuuurrrrrrr.”
The good news?
That’ll get Ginny’s attention.
The bad news?
That’ll get Ginny’s attention.
My parents made patience look so easy.
I try—I do—and I managed it well in my EMT days, but I’m about to lose my shit right now. It takes a Herculean effort to keep my voice calm and steady. “I’m real, and I’d like for you to open your eyes, please.”
She doesn’t.
But I don’t miss the little bead of moisture that leaks out the corner of one of her eyes.
