Fueled Obsession 1

by Amanda Heartley

  “Wow, Mollie. I can go get you some food, or call for pizza. Whatever you want.”

  “Won’t your girlfriend be jealous?” she asked, and then looked intently at my eye. “How’s your face, by the way?”

  The wonderful smell of her perfume wafted in front my face when she lifted her hand to check my stitches and I almost lost it. “Um… I guess it’s okay. Is it just about time to take the stitches out?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I’ll ask when Dr. Hopkins comes out and I’ll set you up in there. He’s just taking a long time,” she said, and then smiled. “Hey! Congrats on the race.”

  “Yeah, about that. First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend. It’s just—well—” I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her and my head told me to keep my mouth shut. We came from two different worlds, and no matter how much money I had in my pocket, or how many races I’d won, I still wasn’t the nicest guy around.

  The doctor finally walked out with Elaina and Ricky. I stood up and glanced back and forth at all three of them. “Is everything okay?”

  “Hi, Fitz! Dr. Hopkins is going to take us out for pizza! You wanna come?” Ricky’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Mollie can come, too!”

  I looked at Mollie and she shook her head. “No, Ricky, not tonight. I have a ton of homework, but thanks for asking.” She smiled at him and looked up to the doctor. “Dr. Hopkins, I’m going to get the room ready for Mr. Fitzgerald. He needs his sutures removed. I’ll be right back.” She looked at Ricky and smiled again. The little guy looked at me with a big grin on his face and wiggled his eyebrows, then whispered, very loudly, “Did you ask her out?”

  If the heat in my face told anything, I must’ve looked like a lobster with embarrassment. “No, Mr. Ricky, I didn’t ask her out,” I laughed, and gave a cheesy grin to the doctor and Elaina. They both looked at me disapprovingly. “Ouch!” I replied, and playfully grabbed my heart.

  “Jack,” Mollie called from the treatment room. “You can come in now.” I didn’t need to be told twice and I said my goodbyes and went into triage. My heart was beating like a drum at a rock concert. I hoped she hadn’t heard Ricky, but I’m sure they all heard it.

  “Lie down. Let’s get those sutures out.” She’d fixed her hair a little and put on some lipstick. I wondered if she’d done that for me. I hoped she had as I lay back on the table and heard the snap of the rubber gloves again. “Your eye looks better. No more fights?”

  “No, I’m really not a fighter. Love, on the other hand, is my forte,” I joked.

  “Oh, you’re funny,” she replied, and sat down on the stool. I felt a small pinch as she pulled a stitch out. The way she looked, so professional, so intent, made me want to reach up and kiss her, if I only had the nerve. As she tugged on another stitch, my hand reached up and touched her arm. She stopped and looked at me. Her eyes were so blue. “Does it hurt? I’m sorry.” To me, her voice was low and sexy, like she was trying to turn me on, but the intent look on her face made it clear she was just doing her job.

  “Not really,” I choked out. My hand lingered on her arm, and then very casually slid down her side. She didn’t tell me to stop or move my hand or anything, so I kept it there. To have her next to me, her face so close to mine, the smell of her perfume…all I could do was daydream about having such a sweet, innocent girl to call mine. Ricky’s little voice rang out in my head. “Did you ask her out?”

  “There you go. They’re all out.” She smiled, pushed the chair back and stood up. “I’ll grab you some antibiotic ointment and you’re good to go.” I sat up on the table and wondered how I was going to do this. I wanted to ask her out, on a real date. She returned with the bag of goodies and handed it to me. “So, you’re set. Put some ice on that eye, take some ibuprofen for the swelling and you should be fine.” She smiled.

  I had to ask her. Damn. Why was I such a chicken? I’d been with thousands of girls, and never felt like this before. “Thanks and uh—” I cleared my throat. “Do you, uhm, would you like to…”

  “Yes?” she asked with that beautiful smile on her face.

  This was it, now was the time, and I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. I needed some weed; that would calm me down.

  “Would you like—?”

  A throat-clearing cough came from right outside the door and I jumped.

  “Jack, Mollie, everything okay in here?” Dr. Hopkins asked from the doorway.

  Mollie was still smiling as she twirled around. “Yes, Doctor. I removed his sutures and he’s good to go!”

  FUCK!

  “Very well, Jack. You’re our last patient today and I’m glad to see you’re healing. I’ll just walk you out.” The doctor put out his hand as if to lead me to the door.

  “Wait!” Mollie interrupted. Let me get you some painkillers. We have some new—”

  “I have some in this bag, don’t I?” I asked her. I set the bag down on the bench and rummaged through it until I found a bottle of ibuprofen. “Right here.”

  Mollie grabbed the bag and shook her head. “No, that’s not it. I’ll be right back.” And out the door she went.

  I stared at the ceiling for a second. I didn’t really want to talk to the doctor, but decided to at least say something to break the tension building up in the room.

  “So is Ricky okay?”

  “Oh, yes, he’s fine. You?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m fin—”

  “Here you go, Jack, and please come back if you see any redness or swelling.” Mollie handed me another bag that looked a lot like the bag she’d just taken from me. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but at least she wasn’t mad at me.

  “Okay, then, Mols—can I call you that? Mols?”

  She giggled. “Bye, Jack. Take care and yes, you can.”

  I wondered why Mollie had reacted like that, but I gathered up my belongings, nodded to the doctor and said goodbye.

  I walked around the corner on my way back to the trailer park, and stopped to look inside the bag. There was a bottle of ibuprofen and a lollypop with a sticky note attached. I pulled it out to read it and smiled the biggest smile I’d smiled in a long time.

  Call me

  555-2468

  Mollie~

  Chapter Ten — Mollie

  I stayed up late and waited for a call or text from Jack, then finally fell asleep when I realized he might not even have a phone. Silly me. The way he casually moved his hand down my arm as I removed his sutures had made me quiver. And he did say he didn’t have a girlfriend. Nat was going to kill me, but there was something about Jack that just attracted me like a moth to a flame. Was it his eyes? They were so intense. Or the way he treated the kids? It was like he was some Billy Badass at the races, but once he saw Ricky or the other little kids, he softened up. God, I hoped I’d hear from him, or he’d stop by.

  When my phone finally rang, it was Dr. Hopkins calling the staff of the Village Clinic into an early meeting to give us some bad news. “Our funding has been greatly diminished because the main grant that we depend on for operational costs has been delayed, maybe even cancelled. I have a meeting this afternoon with the board of directors.”

  There were only four of us at the clinic, and I was a volunteer, but for the nurses who depended on the clinic for a paycheck, this was brutal. “I know it’s upsetting,” he continued. “It affects not only the employees and volunteers, but the community as well. I do have faith that the grant will happen, but I think it’s going to be later rather than sooner. In the meantime, we all need to look around our work environment and cut costs wherever we can. Let’s make sure we aren’t wasteful, and if people have insurance, make sure it gets billed immediately. Unfortunately, Linda and Cora, we’ll need you to hold off on those vacations, at least for a few months. My sincere apologies, ladies.”

  “Aww, man. I already have plane tickets. Damn.” Linda protested.

  The doctor replied, “We’ll work it out Linda. Cora, what about you? Can you hold off?”

  “Yes,
Sir. I wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. Just relaxing at home. It’s okay.”

  Dr. Hopkins sighed with relief, thanked everybody for their patience and reassured us that he’d do all he could to get more money for the clinic.

  “We understand, Dr. Hopkins. Don’t you worry about us.” I agreed with the other nurses, but my heart was heavy. The Village needed good people like the doctor and nurses here to keep them healthy. I thought about the kids, like little Ricky, who relied upon the village for immunizations and standard care. I decided then and there I was going to do something, anything, to try and stop the clinic from closing. I had to talk to Dad—he’d know how to help.

  “Dr. Hopkins, I know I’m just a short-term volunteer, but I know how much this clinic means to the community. If there’s any way I can help you, please let me know. Do you plan on doing some fundraising or something to offset some of the costs?”

  “Well, I haven’t had much time to think about that. I just got the call this morning, but I promise you that I’ll consider it. In the meantime, keep up the good work, Mollie.”

  The rest of the day, I handed out lollipops to kids, answered the phones, checked temperatures and soothed ouchies with band-aids and antibiotic cream. We did have some serious appointments, too. The flu was making the rounds in the area, not to mention a nasty stomach virus and some of our patients were pretty sick. By the time I got on the road after my shift, I was tired, but in a rewarding sort of way. I gave myself a pep talk as I drove home. Dad could help, but it was up to me to convince him to put his influence and money behind the project.

  Dad’s car was in the driveway so I knew he was home. I had to make him see why this was so important. It had been a long time since I’d persuaded him to change his mind and I wondered if I could still do it. I walked into the house, put on a happy face and looked for him. Of course, he was in his study, poring over papers and emails. The light from the computer shone on his face. I flipped on a light. “You’ll go blind trying to read in the dark. At least, that’s what someone used to tell me.”

  Dad chuckled a little and said, “You look tired. Long day at the clinic?”

  “Yeah, a very long day. We were so busy and my feet are killing me.”

  He closed his laptop and put his hands behind his head. “Still don’t remember anything about the guy from the accident?”

  I sighed. This again? “No, Dad. I don’t have anything more to report, but I do want to talk to you about something.” I sat in the chair across from his desk and he leaned forward.

  “Is this about Brantley? I liked him. You plan on seeing him again?”

  “No, Dad. He’s a complete douche bag and I won’t be seeing him again. But what I do want to talk you about—and please don’t lose it—is the Village Clinic. They need help Dad. The clinic’s largest grant, the annual one they depend on, is delayed. That means for the next few months, they won’t be funded. Can you help us find a way to get the temporary funding we need?”

  “We? What do you mean, we? Wait a minute, have you been working in the Village when I absolutely told you not to?”

  “Hold on a sec. Let me talk, Daddy, please.”

  He put his hands on his desk, obviously aggravated that I’d defied him. “I can’t believe you went behind my back after I forbade you from going there. That’s a dangerous place, Mollie. You don’t see the facts and figures that I do. Every kind of crime happens within a just a few blocks of that clinic. Murder, robbery, drug sales and you’ve actually been working there when I specifically told you not to? I’m disappointed, Mollie, and it’s out of the question!”

  “Dad, those are real people over there, not some far away country. It’s our city. Those families are everyone’s responsibility and that clinic helps hundreds of ordinary people every day. They’re not all criminals and I like making a real difference to their lives. I know you don’t want me over there, but if you could see the faces on those kids—”

  “Oh, Mollie, Mollie, Mollie,” he sighed. “You’re a lot like your mother. She would’ve saved the world if she’d had the chance.” He paused, took a deep breath and I hoped for a moment that he might at least consider giving some money to the clinic. He looked at me, and I realized how much I missed the dad of old times. “Honey, I can’t make you stop working at the clinic, but I don’t have to support it.”

  “Dad, that’s really cold. These poor people need help. And they’re—”

  “I’m sorry, honey. You’ll have to get the money from somewhere else.” And with that, he resumed reading his paperwork and ignored me.

  I stood up, glaring at him. “So that’s it—you’re just going to ignore me when I do something you don’t approve of? That’s real mature, Dad,” I huffed.

  As I walked out the door, he replied, “Do you really want to talk to me about maturity, Mollie?”

  I was fuming. This would never have happened if Mom were still alive. Kind and caring, she would’ve done it in a heartbeat. She would’ve been on my side. If he just thinks this is over, he’s wrong—dead wrong! I put on my pajamas, flopped down on my bed and thought for a few minutes about the desperate situation at the Village and my dad being so strict and cold-hearted. I grabbed my phone and swiped speed dial to the clinic, hoping Dr. Hopkins was still there. I knew he often stayed late.

  “Hey, Dr. Hopkins, this is Mollie DuBois. I was thinking about fundraising for the clinic.”

  “That sounds marvelous, Mollie. You’re such a kind girl and we need all the help we can get if we’re going to stay open. What kind of fundraising? We’ve tried that here before and you know the economic hardships the community has,” he replied.

  “Yes, Doctor. I know the Village community can’t really help, but what if I tried in other parts of town? Like over here, where I live? Or downtown, where my dad works? I know it’s a long shot, but I could at least try.” I started getting excited about all the things I could do to help the clinic.

  I could hear him chuckle through the phone. “You have some big ideas, Mollie. I’m all for it. And who knows what will happen if we raise some awareness? You’re a great girl, Mollie. Thank you.”

  “Oh, Dr. Hopkins, it’s my pleasure. I’ll start working on this tonight. Thanks so much.”

  “No, thank you, Mollie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a great night. Bye.”

  “You too, Doctor. Bye.” I pushed the end button on my phone, grabbed a spiral notebook off my desk and started writing my plan. I’d work on flyers and start some social networking pages to get the word out. I could talk to some businesses and see if they could help. Just because my dad was being a dick didn’t mean other people wouldn’t help.

  As I was writing my notes, I got a call from Natalie. I picked up the phone and swiped the answer button. “Hello? What’s up, Nat? How did the show go?”

  “Oh, my God, Mollie, I need your help! One of my models is a no-show and I need someone to fill in. Please get here as soon as you can!”

  Natalie sounded hysterical, but I was no model. For a start, I wasn’t tall enough for the job—not in the least. “I want to help you, but I’m not tall enough for that. I’ll be tripping all over your clothing.”

  “You let me worry about that. Get your ass over here. Please Mols—and bring those suede purple heels, the tall ones that you wore the other night. Hurry!” She hung up, and I jumped up from the bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  Oh, snap. I look like a crazy person! I pulled the ponytail holder out of the hair I’d piled on top of my head. I slung off my nightshirt, slid into a fresh pair of panties, jeans and a t-shirt. I shook the tangles out of my hair with my fingers, called out to Dad that I was going to Natalie’s and ran out of the house. Although I still had the clinic on my mind, I had to go. A friend in need can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but Natalie was depending on me.

  I drove my BMW as quickly as I could to Natalie’s studio where cars filled the parking lot. Obviously, a lot of people were interested in her work. I’d a
sked to come and help her out with the arrangements before, but she’d declined.

  “No way, I’ll be too nervous if you’re here, but don’t worry—I’ll give you a full report. It’s even being recorded.” I hadn’t argued with her. ‘Nerves’ were a language I understood quite well.

  I pulled around the back. I sure didn’t want the people Natalie was trying to impress to see me looking like this. She met me at the door, wearing one of her own floral dresses and a nervous expression.

  “Come on. Thank you so much. I appreciate this. Go see Mark, he’s dressing the models. I’ll stall for a few minutes.”

  I went in the direction she pointed and found her assistant looking stressed, too. “Hi, Mark. It’s me, Mollie. Where do you want me?”

  “Um, here. I’ve got this for you. Put this on and then come stand on this podium so I can adjust the hem with some pins. Got those shoes with you?” I nodded and pulled them out of the bag.

  I took the outfit he handed me and looked around for a place to change. “Where do I change?”

  “Here! Now, get moving. Trust me—we’re all too freaked out to look.” I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my top and grabbed the blouse off the rack. Mark helped me adjust the sleeves and, to his credit, he never once stared at my half-naked body. I slid out of the jeans, happy that I’d bothered to change out of my grandma panties into something sexier.

  I’d be modeling a long-sleeved peasant blouse with a fitted waist and a matching mini-skirt with flowing layers of lightweight fabric. This was one of my favorite Natalie outfits and my shoes worked perfectly. I stepped on the podium and let Mark fuss over the hem. Another assistant hung a dangling necklace around my neck and began working on my hair. “Come sit in the chair, please. Just don’t sit on any pins.” Mark rubbed my legs with lotion that had a touch of shimmer to it. “Great legs.”