I did think about it. A lot. He got the call to pick up Dottie at around two o’clock. When we got to the restaurant, she was as perky as ever. We sat waiting for the final discharge instructions while she talked.
“Brian would never hurt me,” she said firmly. “He’s always been so helpful, and brings me things when I ask him. Oh, and I thought about that card reading – Mike, right? You know the woman that I described?” She smiled. “It was me!”
Quintin admonished quietly. “Dottie, don’t get worked up.”
“No, listen, listen, Quinn. I read him his cards, and they said that he’d have a fight with a blond man. That must have been Brian. Did you two have a fight?”
“He tried to stab me,” I said.
“Oh, you poor dear. I’ll talk to him.”
“I already did,” I said. Quintin gave me a look over her shoulder. I hadn’t explained what I did, but he knew that I must have done something.
“He left, honey,” said Quintin.
“You didn’t have to chase him out!”
“Ma’am, he almost put you into a coma.”
“He misjudged.”
“Honey, there’s a time to believe that sometimes men are—”
“—at their worst, yes, I know. I know, you’ve told me this before – oh, hello, doctor.”
Quintin fell silent, and didn’t bring it up again, surprisingly enough. I figured that Dottie had some sort of innate magic ability to forcefully end a conversation.
In the car, and all the way home, she discussed her medical condition. I perked up suddenly when she said, “They found cancer, but I went for chemo and it seems to be in remission. So after that, I had a boil removed – oh, did that hurt! What a nice doctor—”
I glanced at Quintin through the rearview mirror, and he shook his head slowly. There was something more than just “cancer, but it’s gone”.
So I started paying attention. Dottie’s ramblings went all over the place, rehashing things that happened at the hospital, things about other people, talking about her brother who had died in a war – what war, I had no idea, and neither did she. She was still talking as we pulled into her driveway just before dark, and I had an unbelievable headache. I’d been in the same clothes for two days now, and I wanted a hot shower, a warm bed, and peace and quiet.
Quintin told me to wait while he went to the door and unlocked it. He glanced at the doorframe and then let Dottie in. I half-expected the place to be in shambles, thinking that Brian would have come back and tore apart the place.
“Brian took all of your Oxycontin when he left,” Quintin said, leading her into the kitchen. The water was still in the sink, dishes half-washed. I saw the knife he had tried to stab me with now on the table. I picked it up and tossed it in the sink.
“Does he have back problems?”
“No, it’s a drug that they can sell on the street. It can get some people high.” Quintin sighed. “Want to call the drug store or we can go by tomorrow and you can talk to them.”
“Okay,” she said, and opened the refrigerator. “Who’s hungry?”
Both of our stomachs growled in unison. “Honey, I’m exhausted. I’m going to go home, if that’s all right. I’ll come back tomorrow morning.”
“It’s all right, I’ll make hamburgers for me and Mike here.”
I looked at Quintin. “I need to find some aspirins, first.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“We can eat first, and then I want to watch TV. You can watch TV with me, okay, Mike?”
“Sure,” I said, plopping down at the kitchen table.
Quintin watched me for a minute, and then gave Dottie a kiss on the cheek, walking out through the back door.
Dottie cooked, humming something, and then presented we with a hamburger – no bun – with french fries. I ate it with a knife and fork. From there we retired to the living room and sat down to watch old movies. That was the first time she was quiet. She watched the movies quietly, knitting something, while I sat on the opposite end of the couch, dozing off.
Again, the next thing I knew, someone draped something over me and kissed my cheek. “Good night, Knight of Swords.”
Words: 735
Inspiration: I know a woman named Dottie but she’s not as talkative as this. This character is based on an extreme version of my only RL friend, who does not shut up when we’re together, and goes off on different tangents in conversation constantly. Dottie has a physical reason she’s like this.
Brian, by the way, is the name of a real coworker who irked me. Hence I’m buying this shirt.