I Don't Want To Solve Your Problems, I Have My Own

I paced back and forth in the waiting room. My body was trembling and I felt like crap. Don’t think about how you feel, you just hit somebody with your car! Doctors and nurses ran around all night, and it wasn’t making me feel any better. What if she’s dead? I felt my knees go weak again and I sat in one of the stiff, horribly ugly chairs that were sitting in the room.

“Mr. Malkin?” One of the nurses asked, poking her head into the room. I immediately bolted up.

“Yes?” I asked, walking over quickly.

“She is alive, and responsive. She suffered a few minor fractures, and a concussion, but is doing well otherwise,” the nurse said. I let out a sigh of relief and ran a hand through my short, curly hair.

“Can I see her?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not. Only family can, standard protocol,” the nurse said, smiling sympathetically. I pursed my lips and pulled out a pen from my pocket. I tore a piece of paper off of a small stationary pad resting on one of the tables in the waiting room and began writing.

I am really, really sorry about what happened tonight. I know I don’t know you, but I’m going to cover all of your medical bills. It’s already been arranged with the hospital. I would like it very much if you called me so we could arrange a meeting once you’re out, so I can properly apologize. My number is 555-0984. Evgeni M.

I handed the paper to the nurse, and she read it before nodding and walking down the hallway.

It wasn’t for another few days that my phone rang, and the caller ID didn’t know the number.

“Hello?” I asked, picking it up.

“Hi, is this…Evgeni M?” I heard a young woman ask.

“Yes, this is Evgeni. May I ask who is calling?” I asked.

“Yeah, this is Ashley Pritchard. I’m the girl you hit the other night,” she said. I cringed. The way she said it, it sounded like I did it on purpose.

“Oh…” I started.

“Hey, um…it wasn’t your fault, okay? I’ve got a history of doing stupid things, and this was one of them. It’s really nice that you want to pay my bills, so I’d like to meet you and thank you for that,” she said. I sighed in relief. She wasn’t going to bite my head off. It wasn’t really your fault anyway. You weren’t expecting her to jump into the middle of the street like that either.

“Okay. Well, where and when would you like to meet?” I asked.

I stood in the Starbucks for nearly half an hour before a girl with long, dark red hair full of bouncy curls walked in. Her left arm was wrapped in a yellow cast, and her right foot was in a walking boot. I cringed, knowing it had to be her. Ashley Pritchard, right? She caught my eye and smiled widely.

“You must be Evgeni,” she grinned, walking over. I shushed her and looked around carefully. Thankfully nobody had heard her.

“Please, be quiet. Just…call me Geno in public, okay? I have trouble sometimes with people when they recognize me,” I said quietly. She raised her eyebrows.

“Why? People can’t handle meeting you, Mr. Malkin?” She whispered. I nodded and sighed. It was bad enough I was standing here in public, with no disguise on at all, but meeting the girl I had run over with my car wasn’t exactly easing my nerves.

“Sometimes, no they can’t,” I shrugged. It was kind of embarrassing really. I wasn’t an attention whore, so the fame got to me on occasion. Ashley looked me over with intelligent blue eyes and nodded. It was almost a nod of approval.

“So, you decided to help a poor pauper out by paying her medical bills, huh?” she smiled.

“Poor pauper, no. Person I hit with my car, yes,” I chuckled. She let out a low giggle and walked over to the register.

“A tall, soy, java chip frappucinno please,” she said. The barista nodded, and I quickly ordered my coffee as well. Nothing too fancy, just a plain coffee with sugar and cream.

“So, Ashley, can I ask what you were doing, running into the street like that?” I asked after we sat down.

“Are you in for a long story, because that’s what it will take to explain it,” she asked, sipping her coffee casually.

“I’ve got time,” I said, checking my phone.