Page 4
CHAPTER FOUR
CORRIGAN
“ W hich one are you getting today?” Dad asks as we peruse the menu.
“I think I’m going for the Big Papa.” I point to the item described as a hotdog topped with two slices of bacon, jalapeno scallion cream cheese, a shredded cheese blend, fresh jalapenos, and finished with a dusting of crushed potato chips.
He nods. “Impressive.”
I smile and ask which one he’s choosing.
“I’ve got to go for my favorite.”
“Ah. The mac and cheese dog?”
“Mhmm.” He pats his stomach. “It’s the mixture of the mac and cheese, bacon, and fried onions for me. I think it’s becoming my regular.”
“Alright, I’ll let it pass this one time,” I say, pointing to him. “But next time you have to choose something new. That’s the whole point.”
Before I moved to London for a couple years to study and experience life as a nurse across the pond, Dad and I would meet for lunch once a week at Harold’s Hotdog Diner. The retro décor gives off a fun and nostalgic vibe and the food is fantastic. There is no other place I’ve ever known to have as many different hotdog topping combinations as Harold’s. When we would come here before, the rule was we could never order the same hotdog twice so that we could experience as many combinations as possible.
Some of the times the combos were so amazing I forgot I was actually eating a hotdog. Other times?
Well…best not to remember those times.
Let’s just say some toppings really don’t need to be put on a hotdog.
Snapping a quick picture of my lunch, I send it to Mr. Stranger since we seem to have bonded a bit over food.
Me
My lunch for the day. Ever had a hotdog like this? #foodporn
“It’s really great to have you back here, Sweetheart,” Dad says with an appreciative smile as he takes a messy bite. He chuckles and grabs his napkin to wipe his face. “I missed these lunch dates.”
“Same.” I nod to my dad with a mouth full of food. “They definitely don’t make them like this in London.”
“So, have you gotten yourself all settled in? Anything you need? You know I’m more than willing to?—”
“Dad,” I say for the twelve-hundredth time since I got home a few weeks ago. “I don’t need your money. I promise I’m good. I handled life an ocean away all on my own. I can certainly handle it here in California.”
Although the boxes in storage that I have yet to pick up and unpack tell a bit of a different story.
“I’m just saying, Corri. I make more money than one person could ever need. I could’ve made sure you were set up with a state-of-the-art house if you would’ve just let me.”
“And that’s precisely why I didn’t, Dad. Come on, we’ve been through this before. You can’t just be the guy in my life who spoils his daughter so rotten she forgets to learn how to do things for herself. You know, one day you won’t be around anymore and then what will I do if you’ve always done everything for me?”
He shrugs and passes me a smirk. “Marry a rich man and hope that he’s half as good to you as I was?”
“Dad.” I chuckle this time.
“I know, Sweetheart. I know. I’m sorry. With your mother not around and you in another country, it got a little lonely around here. I just want to feel like I’m doing something good.”
I cock my head. “Dad, what are you even talking about? You do loads of good! You give so much money to so many organizations in need. You might think that’s just a normal day for you but think about the millions of people who could never give back the way you do.”
“I guess that’s true but it’s just money.”
“It’s not always money. You’ve played Santa for the kids at Pacific Children’s for years. That’s not money. It’s time. It’s effort. It’s compassion. You know I’m right. Not every man gets to be the head coach of a professional hockey team. If you don’t think that’s special in and of itself, or that you didn’t work your ass off to get that position, you need to walk yourself into my hospital and have your head examined.”
“Don’t you work at the Children’s Hospital?” He grins, referring to the fact I spend most of my days with children.
“Yeah, but they’d take a peek at your brain if I asked them to. Then I can tell all the kids what a whacko you are. Speaking of the kids, even when I left you never stopped being Santa for them.”
Dad shakes his head. “And deny them a little bit of Christmas magic when they’re lying in a hospital bed? I would never.”
“See?” I pat his hand across the table. “You do good things, Dad. And I have so much respect for what you do. You’ve taught me well. Now you have to let me spread my wings a bit, okay?”
He nods, quietly watching me with a glint in his eye. “Alright. I promise I’ll try. But you have to promise you’ll come to me if you ever need help. With anything.”
“You know I will, Dad.” I smile at him and squeeze his hand. “Now tell me how the team is looking. I know it’s early but hockey is hockey. How are Barrett’s knees holding up?”
Dad laughs as he wipes his mouth with his napkin again. “That grumpy bear wouldn’t tell me if his knee literally came unattached from his body. He’d just strap on his guard and put himself back out there on the ice. But I’ve got to tell you about the Pickle Pants.”
A goofy grin spreads across my face. “Pickle Pants?”
“Ollenberg’s latest prank on the new kid.”
“Bodhi Roche?”
“Yeah. You know how Ollenberg likes to wear his stupid pajama pants?”
I grin. “Yeah.”
“He told Roche that they all wear pajama pants to the last practice before the season opener and even got him a special pair for the occasion. They had pickles all over them.”
I gasp, sitting back in my chair and covering my mouth. “Oh no! Let me guess. He was the only one in pajama pants?”
“You guessed it. And now the team calls him Pickle Pants.” Dad laughs. “Definitely knocked the kid down a peg or two. He came onto the team with this righteous, pompous, star-child mentality, you know?”
I shrug. “Meh. He’s young. I imagine getting to be an Anaheim Star can get to just about anyone’s head. He’ll learn.”
“Yeah. The guys will set him straight. The kid’s a great player. He’s got tons of potential. I can see it.”
“Well, there’s nobody better than you to help bring it out of him.”
“Thanks, Sweetheart.” He gathers up his garbage and places it on the tray we were sharing. “I should probably get going. I’ve got an interview with Sports Network before we board the plane for tomorrow’s away game.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “As if you need to prepare.”
“The moment I don’t is the moment someone will get me to say something stupid and then I’ll really be in trouble.”
“Well thanks for lunch. Same time next week?”
“Absolutely.” We stand from the booth and Dad leans over to place a kiss on my temple. “I look forward to it.”
After a grueling workweek, I finally have a day off. An entire day to myself to do God knows what. Lying in my bed, I weigh all the things I need to do against things I would rather do. I could be scrubbing the bathroom or organizing my closet, but I would rather shop…or do nothing at all. There are still several boxes in my storage unit to pick up and unpack. I need to work on making this place look more like a home than a low-key dorm room, but when I come home from work over-stimulated and exhausted the last thing I want to do is put my home together. Dad would offer to hire someone to do all the work for me, but I want to do these things on my own.
It’s time to create my own happiness.
Build my life the way I want to live it.
I suppose that means a day of shopping is in order because I need more shit. And then I could grab some boxes and bring them back here to unpack.
But maybe I need a shopping buddy.
We could make a day of it!
Grabbing my phone from my bedside, I tell Siri to call Layken and wait for her to pick up.
“What up, Bitchachos?”
“Hey! Want to hang out and shop with me? Maybe have lunch or dinner somewhere?” I ask. “I’ll probably watch Dad’s game tonight if you feel like doing that too.”
“Oooh! A whole day with Corrigan Hicks? Who would I be to say no? And you know me! I live to shop. Can we go to that new ramen place?”
“Hopeless Ramen-Tic?”
“Yeah! It’s all everyone has been talking about for weeks and they’re finally open. There might be a wait, but I hear it’s worth it.”
“Alright. That’s cool with me. I can stop downstairs and get you on my way out.”
“No need. I’m already out so how about if I swing by and pick you up? Be there in ten?”
“I’m literally just getting out of bed,” I tell her with a laugh.
“Well, it’s eleven o’clock bitch! You’ve slept almost half the day away. Get yourself up and throw on some clothes. I’ll be there soon.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll drop the kids off at the pool and brush my teeth and be ready when you get here.”
Layken blurts out a laugh. “You know you can just tell me you’re going to poop, right?”
I shrug as I roll myself out of bed. “You know me. I’m fancier than that. Plus, I ate lunch at Harold’s yesterday so…”
“You’re fancier than that,” she laughs. “But say no more. Harold’s is always excellent, but it’ll get ya in the end. Pun intended. I’ll see you soon. Don’t push too hard or else I’ll be forced to make a show of it when we walk down the medical aisle at Target.”
I giggle again. “I’ll try my best to stay in control at all times. See you soon.”
I carry my phone with me into my bathroom because let’s be honest, who doesn’t poop while scrolling through their phone anymore? As I’m scrolling, a text dings in from Mr. Stranger that makes me laugh.
Mr. Stranger
Sorry, this is late. I was traveling yesterday. Harold’s huh? A few coworkers took me there not too long ago. Excellent dogs but…
Me
But what?
Mr. Stranger
Never mind. Forgot who I was talking to.
Me
What’s that supposed to mean? And what do you care? You’re literally talking to a stranger!
Mr. Stranger
Yeah but you’re a girl and I’m a guy and we don’t usually talk that way around girls.
Me
Oh, so it was going to be gross?
Mr. Stranger
Obviously.
Me
Did you forget I’m a nurse? I assure you I’ve seen it all. Come on. Hit me.
Mr. Stranger
Okay, okay. I was going to say their dogs are great but they make you poop.
I throw my head back in laughter noting only to myself where I am sitting right now. “Oh man, if you only knew.”
Me
Yeah that’s true. They do.
Mr. Stranger
What one did you get?
Me
The Big Papa.
Mr. Stranger
The Big Papa, huh? My girl likes ’em spicy!
I don’t know why I smile at my phone. I don’t know this guy at all. I don’t even know his name but seeing him call me his girl gives me the warm-fuzzies. Realistically it’s the first time I’ve had anyone call me their girl. Leo was always so prim and proper when it came to us being together. He wasn’t much for public displays of affection and refused to treat me like his girlfriend during the workday. I respected that idea for the most part, as he was an Attending and I was one of the team’s nurses, but still. He never made me feel the way I just felt with a complete stranger calling me his girl.
You’re such a wanker, Leo.
Me
Your girl huh?
Mr. Stranger
Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.
Me
Oh, you didn’t. I was just teasing.
Mr. Stranger
Well, if I’m being honest, you’re kind of my only friend outside of work. I don’t usually give myself much time for a social life.
Me
Right. I can see how professional ice cream testing could do that to a person.
Mr. Stranger
Ooh! She’s witty too ladies and gentlemen. So what are we eating for dinner tonight?
Me
Actually, I’m heading out with a friend today. Thinking about trying that new Ramen place in town. You can come if you want. We could actually meet in person. Side note: my friend would die to know I’ve been texting a complete stranger.
Mr. Stranger
Damn. I would love to, but I’m out of town for work today. Lots of ice cream parlors to hit before the week’s end. Maybe a rain check?
Me
LOL! Of course. I’m not going anywhere. Safe travels. Have some cookies and cream for me!
Mr. Stranger
Will do. Can I ask you a question before you leave for the night though?
Me
Sure!
Mr. Stranger
I suppose you could lie and I would never know, but do you have a name and am I allowed to know it?
Me
My name is Corri.
Mr. Stranger
Corri. That’s a beautiful name.
Me
Thank you. And what’s your name?
I watch the three dots appear on my screen and then disappear…and then reappear again before my Stranger man finally replies.
Mr. Stranger
Alan.
Me
Nice to finally sort of meet you, Alan.
Mr. Stranger
The pleasure is all mine Corri. Hope you have a great night. Slurp some Ramen for me.
Me
Haha! Will do!
“Wait, WHAT?” Layken’s jaw drops mid-sip. She saves the noodle hanging out of her mouth and I watch as she sips it down. “You’ve seriously been texting some guy you don’t even know?”
I sift my spoon through my ramen bowl, because I’m lame and don’t know how to use chopsticks correctly, after a long afternoon of shopping. I love shopping with my best friend, but sometimes I forget she’s one of those people who likes to walk down every single aisle of the store to make sure she doesn’t miss a good bargain. Also, I promised a stop at the local bookstore on our way to dinner and of course that took longer than expected with her. A warm bowl of ramen to end our day out is hitting the spot perfectly.
“Like I said, it was an accident at first. I hit the wrong number on my phone when I was texting my dad.”
Her brows pinch. “You know that’s what they make contacts for in your phone, right? So, you don’t even have to type in a number?”
“Yeah but you know I’m not that organized and since I knew his number I figured it was just as fast to type it in than search through my contacts. I don’t know. I’m weird that way.”
“Yeah. You are, but I guess that’s beside the point. You’re texting a stranger. Like still…”
I nod. “Yeah. Do you think that’s bad?”
“I mean…” She shrugs. “It’s weird. He could potentially be some sort of oddball perv or what if he’s a sex trafficker?”
I cock my head. “He is not a sex trafficker.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I…”
She’s right.
I suppose I really don’t know.
“Okay so it’s always possible, but I just don’t get that vibe. He’s never asked me to meet. He’s never asked where I work. There’s no way for him to locate me unless he works for my cell phone company. He’s never asked my name. I mean, until today. It’s just been harmless chat about food.”
“Wait, so did you give him your name?”
“Yeah. I told him my name was Corri.”
“Well, that was smart of you at least.”
I shrug. “I mean, I’m no dummy.”
“And did you get his name too?”
I slurp a spoonful of my ramen, savoring the chicken flavor. “Yes. His name is Alan.”
Layken scrunches her face. “Alan? What the hell kind of name is Alan?”
“What’s wrong with Alan?”
“It’s…I don’t know. Old.”
“Okay, so he has an old name. Maybe it’s a family name.”
“Are you planning to meet him? Like for real?”
“I invited him here.”
Her eyes bulge. “WHAT?” She looks around for a lone man but I chuckle and pat her arm.
“Relax spaz. He’s away for work. I just thought meeting in a public place would be easy and we could’ve bolted if we wanted to had it gone badly.”
“You mean if he was ugly as hell?”
I grin over my noodles. “Yeah. That too. So, how’s the book writing going?”
She swallows another bite and shrugs. “It’s slow going for now. Work is a lot, so I write when I can. And my best friend keeps tearing me away to do stupid shit like shop and suck ramen down our pie holes and watch hot guys play hockey.”
“God, she sounds like a real bitch.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t even get me started.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s going to be a masterpiece and I can’t wait to read a few chapters when you have them done.”
“I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
“Do you have an exciting main character?”
“Yeah I think so. He’s going to be this guy who?—”
DING!
My phone dings with a text, lighting up the screen. I nearly choke on my ramen when I see what the message says.
Mr. Stranger
I think I need sex lessons. Is that a thing?