Lost

"Hello?"

"Mike, it's Alex. Victoria was in a car accident last night..."

"Oh my God! Is it serious?"

"Yes, it's pretty serious. She's still unconscious. Hey listen, buddy, I have to go out of town for a while and I was wondering if you could call the hospital every once in a while because apparently somebody she knows should be around after she wakes up. It sounds kind of silly to me but..."

"I'm leaving right now."

"Do what you want, Mike. Why don't you get some more sleep; after all it's three in the morning. I've got to go- my plane leaves in an hour. Thanks so much for bailing me out at such short notice, old pal."

"Hey no problem, buddy, it's only your wife; no need to be worried or anything..." Mike said sarcastically to the dial tone. Mike ran to the shower and was dressed and in the car in ten minutes.

"Excuse me, could you please tell me what room Mrs. Victoria Warner, I mean Smith, is in?"

"Yes, sir, she's in room 23, but you can't see her until 6:30. You may wait in the lounge at the end of the hall if you wish."

"Thank you very much."

Mike looked through the little square window of her door. The private room was cold and dark with green tile covering the walls halfway. She had tubes in her nose, her head bandaged heavily, her arms in casts and her neck in a brace. She had a long cut along her right cheekbone.

"You're still beautiful, little Victoria," Mike murmured softly to himself as tears welled up in his eyes. He turned away and walked down the hall to the private lounge. As he walked in and sat down, he scanned the people already there. There was a seemingly nice older couple, two middle-aged women and a young boy.

"I REALLY hope her foot feels better after surgery," one of the women said.

"No you don't, Susie. You're the one that didn't want to pitch in some money to help her pay the bill," the other said icily.

"I wouldn't talk, Jen. You don't even want to be here. I loved those fake tears of concern when they wheeled her in; that was a nice touch," Susie laughed wickedly.

"She wouldn't even need to have surgery if it weren't for you dropping that iron on her foot."

"That was an accident!" Susie's voice started to raise.

"Oh yeah, right. It just happened to be after she told you she was engaged to Brad," Jen said sarcastically.

"That was over a long time ago! How dare you imply..." Susie hissed and stood up to slap Jen when a nurse walked in.

"Miss Lane, Miss Rucher? Emilia has awakened from the anesthetic. You may see her now."

"Is she alright?" Susie said with concern oozing from her voice.

"Did they save her foot?" Jen was near tears.

"Emilia will be just fine. Her foot was saved. Follow me, please." Jen and Susie shrieked with apparent joy and smiled so sweetly at the nurse, syrup dripped from their mouths like the drool of a rabid dog. As soon as the nurse turned her back to lead them away to their sick friend, they glowered at each other wickedly.

"With friends like that, who needs enemies!" Mike thought to himself as he sighed pityingly and reached for a pamphlet. He glanced at his watch: 5:00a.m. He looked over at the little boy who sitting alone in a corner, silent with a blank stare on his face accompanied with an occasional heart- felt sniffle.

"How to Deal With Death: The Revised Edition. What an uplifting topic. I should come here more often," Mike thought wryly and tossed the pamphlet on a nearby table. He glanced over at the older couple. That were just sitting there, admiring the lovely chocolate brown, seaweed green and bright orange modern murals.

"This is TOO depressing. I've got to get out of here," Mike thought to himself. "I'm going to get some coffee. Could I bring you back something?"

"No thank you, dear," the old woman said politely.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd really enjoy a ..." the woman nudged the old man.

"George! Where are your manners?" she hissed and then smiled sweetly at Mike who pretended not to notice.

"Come to think of it, I don't really want anything at the moment, thanks," the old man quickly corrected himself.

"You sure have him well trained, lady," Mike snickered sarcastically to himself. "How about you, son?" The little boy just sat there, tears streaming down his face at the mention of the word `son'.

Martin walked quickly out of the room and sown the hall to the nurses' station.

"Is there any change in Mrs. Smith's condition? She's in room 23."

"No, Mr. Smith. We will notify you if any change occurs."

"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm not Mr. Smith..." Mike stopped himself when he realized the nurse's attention was directed elsewhere. "It doesn't really matter anyway," he thought. "

Mike walked over to the coffee machine and after a lengthy battle reached in and pulled a strong black coffee and a hot chocolate out of the slot. When he turned around, Mike saw Jen and Susie embracing Emilia and giggling as she wiggled her toes at the end of her cast. Even from that distance, their artificiality was so recognizable, Martin wanted to flee from the scene in utter disgust.

He walked in on yet another argument as he entered the lounge. "Why did he have to marry her?"

"I like her..." the old man started.

"Did you say something, dear? Well anyway, like I was saying, I told him, Alex, she will only bring you bad luck, being a divorcee and all. The people at work won't respect you, and most of all, what will the rest of the family think?"