Anacortes has a walk-in clinic. It's run by nurse-practioners and is loosely associated with the local hospital. It's an inexpensive alternative to the emergency room, if you're not near death. It's great for families who don't have insurance, although they do require payment upon treatment.
It was on a Monday morning when my ears were really starting to hurt, and I thought I could let an RN look and get them cleared, or at least get started toward some kind of relief. There were maybe seven people ahead of me when I checked in, so I got a People magazine and got settled in the far corner of the waiting room.
Two women, one blonde and one red haired, in their early thirties were trying to keep a toddler with a green nose still. The little guy looked pretty feverish, and I was glad to be a comfortable distance from him. They were so busy settling and wiping that they weren't paying attention to the volume of their conversation.
"Well, Tricia. You know I've been worried Rich was cheating on me. I'd been pretty sure something was going on and now he's got fired from work."
"Rich was fired?" said the blonde one, apparently Tricia. "When did that happen?"
"Weeks ago."
"When did you find that out? How come you didn't say anything to me about that?"
The redhead rolled her eyes. "Just because something happened doesn't mean I have to know. I make his lunch every morning. He leaves with it every day at fifteen to seven and I don't see him until five thirty. Friday morning was just like all the other mornings, except he left his tool belt in the garage. I called the company office to find out which site he was at so I could bring the tools to him. Ada laughed and told me he hadn't been to work in over three weeks. He was shit canned!"
The blonde sat back in her chair, speechless. She twisted her hair with her forefinger.
The redhead continued. "So when he walked in the door after work, " she made quote marks with her fingers, "I was waiting for him. 'What were you doing all day then? What am I going to pay the bills with? Are we getting unemployment money? What the fuck is wrong with you?'
"He had no answers for me and walked back to his truck and drove off.
"I did a little investigating. I called Ada at home and asked her what she knew. She said she heard he had a little something on the side and he'd been pretty flaky on the job. Couldn't give me a name, though. So, I thought, there's gotta be some way to find out if this is true.
"He came home around 1:30 in the morning. Drunk on his ass. Passed out on the living room rug. I was just so angry, so pissed off! I opened his fly and put green food coloring all over you-kn
ow-where, then I dragged his body out into the front lawn and put down his keys halfway to the front door, went inside and locked up. I couldn't sleep, I just sat in our room and read books until I heard him come in around five. I heard him go into the bathroom, and then into the kitchen.""Well?" said the blonde. "Did he say anything?"
"No, not a word. He won't even look at me. We haven't said two words to each other since Friday night.
"But I guess I know."
(time and place are changed)
