On their way to the test, they spoke about all manner of things. Her name was Angel, which upon relaying the story, my dad said made him think that my brother had sent her to him in his hour of need. She had just moved to Phoenix about a month ago and had very few friends, and after my father told her about how he met my mother, she told him she was hoping she'd meet a nice young man just like him.
After his test, she was waiting to take him back up to his room, having requested that she get the assignment. She told him how she had just called her mother to relay to her my dad's story of meeting his wife. He tells it very well and, in fact, still calls her his "girlfriend", which she thought was adorable.
So I arrive at the hospital to take my father home, since he's being discharged later that day. He tells me the story of this girl. He says things like "the second most wonderful girl I've ever met" and "someone I would love to be a part of this family", clearly hinting that I should at the very least meet her. We sit and wait, hoping that she'll be the transporter to bring him down to the parking lot, but those are the volunteers, not the transporters and we are disappointed.
The next day, I decide I'll go down to the hospital and seek this girl out, to thank her for being so kind to my father. I'm lacing my boots when my father comes out and asks me where I'm going. I tell him, since this is obviously what he wanted to happen. He thinks it's a brilliant idea and I ask if he'd like to go and thank her himself. He does. There are two reasons I even consider this a good idea. It will be less creepy if my father is there to thank her and I'm driving him, plus there is no possibility that I will puss out and fail to even find her.
We get to the hospital and she's not there. She doesn't work again until Monday. I think this is Thursday maybe. Monday comes around and we go back, this time she's there. We wait about ten minutes and then she comes down. She's sort of meh looking, with a very high forehead, but I don't mind such things as looks, and my father has already told me that she does not excel in the visual department. She's bright and cheery and pleasant. This is where things go wrong.
My father does all the talking, even though I try. I know this is foolish and I try I swear I try, but he tells her that he wanted his son to meet her and that perhaps we could go out some time and he would like that very much and it is going so horribly wrong. "If you write down your number, he can call you and you two can set it up," he says. "I'll leave you two to get to know each other a bit," and he walks off aimlessly.
I clear my throat. I chuckle. "Wow. Sorry about that."
She says, "Oh, it's okay. He's nice." She hands me her number.
"Well, anyway, I'm Noah. Um... So you just moved here?"
"Yeah. About a month ago. It's so hot." It's summer.
"It gets better. A bit."
This goes on for a few more minutes, and then I see my father wandering around aimlessly still, glancing suspiciously at signs as though trying to find somewhere to go to not be obvious. I tell her that I'm going to get him, she giggles nervously. I bring him back and he says goodbye to her and thanks her again. I say, "Okay, I'll give you a call."
I called her a day later. No answer. I leave a message, thinking maybe she's completely scared off and I'll give her an easy exit opportunity. "Hey, it's Noah. I wanted to apologize about yesterday. I feel terrible about how my dad sort of engineered this. Sorry if that was awkward, that's not how I meant for it to happen, but if you still want to I'd still like to take you to dinner some time. My number's..."
That was the end of it. I never heard from her again, but I spent a good two days in a nervous panic thinking she could call at any time. It's been a year, and my dad has been in the hospital twice since then. I keep wondering if I'll run into her there, and how fucking awful that would be. Well, this last hospital visit, I believe I saw her leaving the building just as I was walking in. I've lost a bit of weight and my hair is a bit shorter now. I don't think she recognized me behind my sunglasses, but I think I recognized her.
I don't know why this story makes me sad. Maybe it's just because I was drinking all day yesterday and I've got that post-drinking depression I tend to get, but for some reason this story is making me sad. It's not her either. It's my dad. He's crazy but he means well and he does these things with the best of intentions and they never turn out well. He tries too hard to make everyone's lives better. You can't get mad, because he thinks he's helping.
"Noah, you need some more light in here to read by."
"No I don't. I'm fine, thanks."
"You can't possibly read in this light."
"Yes, I'm reading just fine."
He turns the light on.
"Dad, really I don't want the light on. Please turn it off."
"Okay. Okay."
He turns the light off.
It's funny. When I told my mom that night about how her husband asked a girl out for me, the most wonderful girl he's ever met said to me, "Why the hell would you bring your father? You know what he's like." Yeah. I do.
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