Heck said: “She came in two days ago. Pretty bad shape. Some kind of accident, but that’s all I know. She was in ICU until yesterday. You picked a hell of a day to dial in sick.”
I shrugged. “It’s a hospital, Heck. Things happen. I’m sorry for her, but I’m the janitor. I doubt I was missed.”
He corrected me. “Maintenance engineer.”
“Eight-fifty an hour? I don’t think so.”
“Anyway, that’s not the point. She’s wired up in 215. Monitors, tubes, the works. Hardly a scrape on her that I could tell.”
“You’re not supposed to—”
“I’m supposed to clean. And if my mop bucket rolled a little into her room, what are they going to do? Fire me? Take away my license to clean toilets?”
“So what’s your point? It’s a hospital. I suppose she’s pretty.”
“She’s not – what do you call it? – drop dead gorgeous. But she’s pretty. I can see her working the counter of a boutique, helping the uglies with colors and shoe sizes. But she’s totally down for the count. I heard the word coma, and I thought, shit, man, that’s so wrong. I’ll bet she hasn’t seen thirty yet. Dark hair, a little thin, probably a vegetarian. You know the type.”
“So what?” I said again. “So you can’t ask her out yet?”
“No, man, here’s the thing. She’s been here for a little more than two days and she’s had zero visitors. I mean no one. Not a boyfriend, not a roommate, not a co-worker or relative. I was talking to Marie, and no one even knows her name. No ID. It’s sad. It made me think of you.”
“Thanks, Heck.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Mr. Lonely, meet Miss Lonely.”
“Sort of. Hey, you want to grab a coffee? You got twenty minutes.”
I looked at my watch. “I gotta do a quick inventory of the supply closet.”
“You got time.”
And that’s how I met you.
Ordinary Handsome 