Her sisters and the guys laughed and talked. Their voices carried all the way from the lobby and over the salsa music they played.
“They’re having a good time,” Marc said, his voice slurring.
He looked groggy. “Are you, all right?”
“I feel. I feel light. Airy.”
“Shouldn’t pain killers make you feel that way?”
Katrina picked up the orange bottle. “I gave you two as you asked.” She looked closer. “Holy shit. I gave you Tyler’s meds—Tylenol three and he only takes one.”
Marc laughed. “That’s why I’m feeling so—pain free. And happy. But drowsy. One is enough to knock out an elephant. Like Tyler. Tyler the elephant.” He laughed, amused at his own inane joke.
She picked up another orange bottle and saw Marc’s name on it. “Your medication has a tangerine lid. You should have said tangerine, not orange.”
“Too late for oranges and tangerines. You’ve killed me for real, Katrina. Katrina Sherrerrrrrr. Goodbye, my angry angel, my honey, my sweetie…,” he sang.
Katrina dropped the pills and raced to him. “Oh my God. This isn’t good. I didn’t mean it, really. I’ve over drugged you.” She raced to the door and banged on it. “Help!” She banged but the music was so loud, no one heard. She took out her phone, remembered it was drained, and threw it at the door. “I need your phone.”
He put it under his leg, stretched out his arms, and puckered his lips.
Was he for real? Had the painkillers transported him back to teenage-hood?
As much as she wanted to give him a big smooch and more, she had to save him first. Otherwise, the lawsuit would be bigger than before. “Give me the damn phone now.”
“Nope. You’re yelling.”
“I’m yelling because I have to call for help.”
He pushed it higher, almost under his buttocks.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She marched to him and stuck her hand under his seat. Marc threw her onto the bed and tickled her.
“There’s no time for this, Marc.” She rolled off the bed, landing on the carpet but with the prize in her hand.
Marc peered over the side at her. “You’re no fun at all.”
She jumped up. “I need to save you first.” She moved as far away from him as possible and called Eric. He picked up after a very long time. “Eric, it’s Katrina. You have to help me. I gave Marc the wrong medication and double the dose, too. I gave him Tyler’s Tylenol three. Ask Tyler. What the hell am I supposed to do? He’s really—happy.”
Eric spoke to Tyler and they laughed.
“Katrina, it’s Tyler.”
“Help, I’ve over drugged him.”
Tyler couldn’t stop laughing. “Get him into a shower and make him move around.”
“But the shower will be cold.”
“What about side effects or repercussions?”
“Extreme and utter nirvana.” The phone went dead.
|Franca Pelaccia, aka|