Avery Has No Friends

The plain clothed police officer was much nicer that I thought she would be. Apparently, she has just finished working and was heading home. The accident was completely her fault, and she didn’t try to argue otherwise. Unfortunately, because she was a police officer, she was required to dispatch a third-party to take the report.

She returned to her car, I slumped into my driver’s seat, and we waited. I looked at the clock. 6:58 PM. There was no way I could make it into work in two minutes. I quickly dialed the hospital on my cell. My colleague completely understood. She told me to get there when I get there and to “take my time.”

Staring through my rain soaked windshield, I noticed the plain clothed police officer talking on her cell phone. I wondered what that conversation entailed. Was she talking to her husband? I imagined the discourse.

“I’ve been in an accident… No, no, no, I’m fine…Yes, dear. I know I should be more careful on the road… We’re going to have to cancel the reservations… I know. I was looking forward to Maggiano’s… Uh, huh… Well there’s no reason to waste the babysitter. Why don’t you take two steaks out of the freezer and we’ll have our date night at home…”

It was a lovely thought, but it left me feeling lonely. I wanted someone to call. Someone who’d ask me if I was alright, who’d warn me to drive more carefully, to suggest we meet for a drink after my shift to call my nerves.

I searched through my phone’s contact list:

Jack: There’s no way I’d call him.

My Parents: I don’t think so. The only thing I’d get from them is a long lecture about traffic safety and the need to be more responsible when operating a motor vehicle on the dangerous streets of Chicago. No thank you.

I continued to scroll through the names. Everyone was either a casual acquaintance or no one that I’d consider turning to in a time of need. I called Jasper in New York. After about five rings, I was met with the familiar voice.

“Hi, you’ve reached Jasper. I can’t come to the—”

I slammed down the phone. It’s sobering to discover that your support system consists of only four people—scratch that—three people now that Jack was no longer in my life. What’s worse was the realization that I really don’t like to talk to my parents often and Jasper lived 700 miles away.

Once the third party officer arrived, we completed the proper paperwork and I was on my way to the hospital. Into the lion’s den, I should say. I was sure that the ladies in my unit would be brutal when they learned about the status of my relationship. And as lonely as I felt in the moment, I couldn’t wait.