Max said to wait until the morning. “They’ll be leaving tomorrow. Let them sleep.”
“They’ll be pissed.”
“Do you think they’ll want to stay longer now?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t want them to have to do that. Oh, God. We had a fight last night.” I told him all about it.
When I was finished filling him in he said, “Call them.”
He was right. It was the right thing to do.
He handed me my phone and I called Grace.
“Oh my God!” she yelled, when I told her where I was and why.
“Grace. Calm down. I’m going to be fine. I just need you to go wake Mom and Dad. You guys can come down here.”
“Okay. Okay.” She was almost breathless.
“Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to be fine. Make sure you tell them that.”
Sometimes I had to be the more controlled, mature one between us.
While we waited for them to arrive, I gave a statement to the police. I was nervous at first, but the pain killers were really starting to kick in. Plus, the officer who interviewed me looked really sympathetic to what had happened to me.
“Was there any sexual contact with the assailant?” the officer asked.
Max looked at me and lowered his head, looking at the floor. He hadn’t asked me that, and I guess he was feeling some guilt over it. I reached out and grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
Max let out a heavy sigh and squeezed my hand back.
“I think we have all we need for now,” the cop said. “Do you have any questions for me?”
Max blurted: “Where is he?”
“Being fixed up as best they can here. Then he’s off to jail. There’ll be an arraignment Monday morning, most likely.”
I said, “Do I have to be there?”
“No, ma’am.”
I thought for a moment. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“Well,” the officer said, putting his pen back in his shirt pocket, “the assault on you will carry a good bit of time. But the major thing is the kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping?”
“Yes, ma’am. When he took your roommate—what’s her name… Ms. Sherman?”
I nodded.
“That was kidnapping,” the officer said. “And that carries hefty time. It’ll be years before he sees the outside of a prison again.”
“Good,” Max said.
And then an awkward moment happened. The cop recognized Max and gushed over his movies. Max was gracious about it, and the cop didn’t go on too long, or ask for an autograph or anything else. He just shook Max’s hand and said, “If there’s anything you or your girlfriend need, give me a call.” He gave Max his card, Max thanked him, and the cop was gone.
It was a disaster when my parents got there. In their minds, their worst nightmare had come true and their suspicions and fears about LA were confirmed.
My mom ran over to try to hug me, but I had to fend her off because it would have hurt. Dad kissed my forehead. Grace cried and hugged my legs.
“Tell me what happened,” Dad said.
I recounted the whole story for them, and they stood there in shock. Chris? The guy they thought would be and should be my future husband did this?
Why, yes. Yes, he did.
“It’s my fault,” Grace kept saying.
The whole sordid story came out. And I told my parents everything.
I also told them about Max, who had offered to leave the room for a little while so I could see my family without having to explain who he was right away. He said he’d be down in the hospital cafeteria and for me to text him when I wanted him to come back.
“Olivia,” Mom said, “why haven’t you been truthful with us?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know why. Ninety percent of our conversations are about how I’ve made the wrong decision. About my major in college, about moving to LA, everything.”
She started to say something.
I stopped her. “Let me finish. Please. For once. Look, I understand why you guys doubt what I’m doing. I get it. You care about me. But it’s too much. Way too much. And all this time you’ve been worried about something happening to me out here, the only time it did was when someone from back home came all the way out here, like a crazy person, to hurt me.”
I looked at them and let that sink in.
Mercifully, the doctor came into the room at that point.
“Well, I see we have the whole family here.” He said it almost cheerily, which I kind of liked. There’s nothing worse than a doctor with a grim bedside manner.
The doctor introduced himself to my parents and then asked me if I wanted to go over the x-rays alone.
“We’re her parents,” my father said.
“Yes, but she’s an adult. I can’t discuss her medical issues around anyone else without her permission.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I really just wanted to get it over with and get out of there.
The doctor confirmed that I had one broken rib.
“Nothing much to do for it. Just rest and some pain medication.”
Everyone looked relieved.
The doctor continued: “Do you live with your parents?”
“No.”
“Alone?”
“No. Well, I have a roommate, but—”
“I gotcha,” the doctor said. “Sorry, I forgot for a minute. It’s been a little crazy here tonight. It might be a good idea if you stayed with your parents.” He looked at them. “Just to make sure she’s okay for the next couple of days. Nothing major.”
“We don’t live here,” Dad said. I noticed his voice was softer. He sounded almost as if he had become resigned to the idea that I was on my own.
“And we’re supposed to leave to go home today,” Mom said.
Grace was holding the baby, who was sleeping, and whispered, “Maybe we should stay.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I know what I can do.”
FOURTEEN
Max walked into the hospital room a few minutes after I texted him.
He was a gentleman, referring to my parents as Mrs. Rowland and Mr. Rowland, and telling Grace it was a pleasure to meet her. He stuck is finger out like he was going to poke my baby niece but instead she grabbed on to it.
I think after telling my parents about Max they had the idea that when he got to the room, he’d walk in with an entourage and paparazzi snapping pictures. I’m pretty sure they were expecting him to walk in and be flashy, arrogant, aloof, and all the other clichés people associate with Hollywood.