While in the waiting room, my mind wanders.  In my past relationships it seemed that I tried to 'recapture' the feelings and comfort that I felt with Shannon.  That wasn’t possible because none of those women were Shannon.  What Shannon and I shared was unique to the both of us.  I want to share new things with Margie.  Make our own life experiences together.  But she has to survive this ordeal for us to have any of that.

Margie makes me smile when I think of her. Her warm brown skin needs no ‘honey dust’ for it tantalizes all on its own.  Her dark brown eyes crinkle and her cheeks blush when she smiles.  Her laugh is more of a chuckle.  I have not heard a ‘deep from the belly’ kind of laugh from her but I will.  We will experience that together. I can’t think of my life without her but how do we have a life together?  Lydia says that Margie doesn’t believe that I love her.  I know that I haven’t told her that I love her because I didn’t know myself until today but I did know that I more than ‘liked’ her.  What’s there not to like. She’s even a Marine.  I say Marine and not ex-Marine because once a Marine always a Marine. 

I told myself that I would never marry again.  Multiple divorces will do that for you. I’m getting too old for “dating”. “I can’t have sex without loving and being married to that person. Until I marry I will keep myself to myself.”  Margie said that when we first met and she recently informed me that she has lived by that. What do I do?  I want her in my life but do I have to marry her?  Can I just remain friends with her and nothing more?  Am I thinking this way just because she’s hurt?  

My thoughts were interrupted as the doctor hurried into the waiting room.  The doctor said to Lydia and me, “There’s been a new development.  She’s taken a turn for the worse. It seems that she’s been poisoned.  We’ve identified the poison and have started treatment to counteract its effects and flush her system of it.  It was a slow release poison. Authorities have determined that medical staff at the intermediary hospital must have introduced it to her system.  They have detained the staff there. The next 24 hours will determine whether we actually did catch it in time. We have changed her condition from serious to critical. We have moved her to the ICU (Intensive Care Unit) so that we can constantly monitor her condition.  ICU is two floors up. You can sit with her there.  Remain hopeful.  We will do all that we can to make sure that she survives.” The doctor left.

Lydia was stunned. “No, no, no this can’t be happening!  Not now, not ever to Margie.  She’s the kindest person I know.  She’s helped me so much.  She’s my friend.  She’s my best friend.  I need some air! I need some air!”  Lydia rushed to the elevator and left.

I stood there in shock.  Poisoned. Critical. Twenty-four hours. My Margie.  My Alexis Marjorie McGregor.