Sweet Trouble

Of Morning and Walls(2)

“Oh my God!” the man exclaimed, his eyes wide with horrified realization. “I’m so sorry!”

He rushed to where Barbara lay, her face contorted in pain. He knew she would likely be fine, but the fact remained: he had thrown a woman against the wall.

“Let me take you to a hospital, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice frantic. Barbara remained motionless on the floor, afraid she had damaged her spine.

The commotion drew Miriam and Miranda into the waiting room. The patients and other caregivers were outside for their morning exercise and hadn’t heard the noise.

“Oh my God!” Miriam exclaimed at the sight. “What happened here?”

“I’m sorry. She startled me, and I accidentally pushed her,” the man explained, running a hand over his face.

“You pushed a fully grown woman against the wall because she startled you? Mr. Benson!” Miriam rushed to Barbara’s side, pushing the man aside. He stood dejectedly, watching as Miranda and Miriam helped Barbara into a chair.

“Are you alright, Barbs? Would you like to lie down in one of the empty rooms?” Miriam asked, her voice laced with concern. Barbara shook her head.

“I am so very sorry. Please, how can I make it up to you? I really didn’t mean for that to happen. I was lost in my thoughts. Please, let me take you to a proper hospital. I won’t be able to rest until you’re checked out. I’m so sorry.” Mr. Benson’s flustered apologies began to grate on Barbara’s nerves.

“It’s fine,” Barbara lied, her voice strained. “I was just trying to offer assistance. I guess I shouldn’t have.”

“No. I mean…” The man ran a hand through his hair, further disheveling it. “Please, let me take you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Barbara insisted, her voice regaining its strength. “And this is a hospital. I can get all the help I need here if necessary.”

Benson opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang, cutting him off. He pulled it from his pocket, then immediately shoved it back. He shouldn’t be answering calls after what he had done. He didn’t even know how to fix the situation.

“Alright, let me give you my card. Please, if any symptoms persist, don’t hesitate to call me.” He swiftly pulled his card from his wallet, but Barbara wasn’t paying attention, and the other women were glaring daggers at him. “I’ll just leave this here,” he declared, placing the card on the chair beside Barbara.

“Please, again, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t wait for a response, withdrawing quickly. None of the women looked inclined to offer one.

“I can’t believe that man!” he heard one of them exclaim as he shut the door behind him. Something had warned him that today wasn’t going to be good. Yet, he had still chosen today to visit his grandmother at the home. And now, he had thrown a woman against the wall.

He unleashed his frustration on the steering wheel the moment he entered his car. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he chanted under his breath.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the ignition and sped away.

“He’s a reckless driver. He’ll get himself killed,” Miranda muttered from the window, where she had moved to watch him leave. “To think such a cute guy would be mentally ill,” she mused.

“He’s not mentally ill. He’s just a jerk,” Miriam insisted. “Are you alright, Barbie?”

“Oh, I’m fine. You guys can stop fussing now,” Barbara said, straining as she rose to her feet. Her back still felt like it was about to split in two, but she masked the pain with a tight smile. Seeing through her facade, Miriam was about to protest, but Barbara walked away toward her office. She regretted not having taken the offer to lie down.

“Who is that man?” she asked, her voice tight. “And why was he alone in the waiting room?”

“Because it’s a waiting room, Barbie, and he was waiting,” Miriam said, following her stubborn friend, ready to catch her if she collapsed. “He’s Hailey’s grandson. He was here to see her but said he’d wait when I told him she was outside exercising. If I had known his waiting would end like this, I would have sent him outside.”

“It was an accident. You saw how frantic he was. He didn’t mean it.”

“Are you defending his actions?”

“I’m not. I’m being rational. You saw how many times he apologized. Don’t you think we should be worried about him? What kind of thoughts would make him react like that?” Miriam gave her a disapproving look.

“Your problem is that you care too much.” Barbara scoffed but remained silent. If Miriam truly knew her, she wouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion. Barbara Davis, care too much? Comical.

“There seems to be a lot of work today,” she said, changing the subject. Miriam knew that meant she wanted space, so she left the office with her hands raised in mock surrender. After all, Barbara had never been the most social person.

When she was alone, Barbara leaned back in her chair with a sigh. It was that time of year for her. Soon, it would be twelve years since the most beautiful experience of her life, and three months after that, the most traumatic day of her life. Maybe that was why these things were happening. Or maybe she was just overthinking.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she immersed herself in her work, a method that had proven effective over the years.