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Gypsy Rules

Unpredictably Wild and Fiery

By SharikaPublished 3 years ago Updated 4 months ago 12 min read
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The Hospital was quiet, finally. The days have been so busy here they seemed endless. It’s cold and eerie when it’s quiet but somehow, right now that was comforting. The beeping of the monitors from the rooms kept in a steady pace with my footsteps. I stood impatiently waiting for the elevator so I could go outside for yet another smoke. I had one dangling from my lips without even remembering putting it there.

I shook my head and scratched it hard out of frustration. How the fuck did I get here. Tears wheld up in my eyes as my mind did a recap. In a month, I found out I was pregnant, had an aborton, helped my little sister pack to move from my parents home in the middle of the country, to the big city to start her music career. Tracy had a voice like an angel. I thought she made it to her new place, only to get a call from my mom hysterical, crying saying Tracy got side side swiped by a transport truck. I was pacing when my phone started buzzing, it was my mom, where the fuck was this elevator I thought as I answered.

“How is she?’ any change? Mom asked, she sounded far away and drunk

No, I said in a voice that was barely a whisper

“Nothing?’ she asked again, sounding like she was seconds away from a meltdown. I had to change the dialogue, I had no idea where she was and right now, she didn’t seem like she could handle any more than what was already on her plate.

She moved a finger, I lied.

She did, my mom sniffed and for the first time in 13 days sounded like she might actually be smiling.

Yeah, I said running with the feeling of hope that we both needed.

“Thank God my mom whispered, “Thank God”.

Fuck, my heart was breaking, I couldn’t keep this up, Mom, I gotta go, can I call you back.

The doors to the elevator finally opened, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Shocked..my smoke fell to my feet.

DAD? I said squinting, not because I couldn’t see but because the figure that stood in front of me was one that I only remembered from photographs.

TIF!!!, he said, sweeping me up into a big hug. He too, looked like he had been crying for days. For a minute I just took it all in. His smell, his warmth, only a minute the hospital; and all it noises disappeared. My eyes closed and I was 7 all over again and then I remembered my mom screaming, glasses breaking and her begging him to stay as he stumbled wasted out the front door while Tracy was crying.

No! I screamed pushing him away, I bolted for the stairs, fuck this!

I could hear my dad yelling my name in what was now my backdrop as I ran down the hospital stairs and onto the streets. The air was freezing, but I didn’t care. The cold helped me forget the memories and that is what I wanted right now more than anything else. I lit my smoke and inhaled as deep as I could.

Tiffany Ann!!!

Fuck!!! There are only a selected few people who know my middle name and I could bet that voice was not any of my grandfathers.

Tiffany!!! A deep male voice yelled again

Okay, we are going to do this, I whispered as I spun around the face the direction of the man who was taking huge strides to close the gap between us. I took another deep draw of my smoke.

What!! DAD? What on god’s green earth has you calling out for me at 1am on a hospital sidewalk? Are you lost?

Tiffany Ann! Don’t you dare talk to me like that, His blue eyes seemed frosty as he glared into mine. He was wearing his long tweed business coat that mom had given him for an anniversary gift years ago. His hairline was receding, and his eyes looked tired and worn out. For some reason all that just added to my fury.

Like what!!! I replied giving him the same glare, bring it on! I’ve waited YEARS for this showdown.

What! Randy? Is that what I should call you? Seems accurate when you only showed your face at grandma’s funeral and now at the hospital when Tracy is dying!!

Don’t you dare say that!! dad said coming closer towards me, Tiffany Ann, you know things were hard for me, never mind taking care of 2 girls on my own.

Pathetic excuse, I growled.

Tiff, that’s not fair, he said whispering. Please keep your voice down.

No!! fuck your comfort!! Mom always told us to go easy on you and now she’s drowning all this in a bottle.

Your mom is drinking… but she doesn’t drin… Dad’s voice trailed off and his eyes went soft. But I was still heated. Tracy always had hope he would come home and mom could never say no to him, no matter how many times he fucked it all up!

Yes, mom is drinking, are you happy now? Now you can watch her fall apart. There it was.. the validation that I needed that my words hit home. He looked helpless. Just like how I felt, and the tears started coming down his face.

I thought I would feel better but instead my stomach went into knots and I realized in my rage I had smoked 6 cigarettes and now I felt dizzy.

“I’m gonna go get something to eat, you might want to go spend your time with the daughter that doesn’t hate you and who needs you”. I turned and stormed off, mumbling under my breath, bullshit.

Everything was closed, what the hell was I thinking going to get something to eat at this hour when I knew damn well there would be nothing open in this shitty ass town. Fucking Barrie. I walked until I hit a gas station and bought a few bags of chips, 2 chocolate bars and a huge can of red bull.

My phone vibrated in my pocket yet again, my dad had called 5 times and I ignored them all, I wasn’t even going to look at who it was, but for a split second I thought it could be my mom. I fumbled getting it out of my pocket and answered without checking the caller id.

Hello, I whispered like people were around to hear me.

Tiffany? a male voice answered, I froze and felt the air leave my lungs. It was my ex-boyfriend,

God tonight was a mind fuck!! I whispered to myself shaking my head

Tiffany? Are you there? Peter asked

Yeah..I’m here, why are you calling pete? Is everything ok? I asked.

Peter chuckled softly, you look so cute when your confused, he said.

What… What do you mean I LOOK so cute? How can you see me Peter?

I’m across the street, Peter replied, flashing his car lights. I saw you leave the gas station. You’re a long way from home Miss Tiffany Ann.

I shielded my eyes so I could peer across the street into the dark car. It was him, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with emotions, happy to hear his voice, sad that it was at a time like this, but overall thankful because I was freezing.

Well you know me, always on the go. I said with a soft laugh, to hide the fact that my body was shaking. Gypsy rules. Can’t stay in one place for too long.

Do you need a ride? Peter asked I don’t have any place I need to be.

I don’t know. I said through chattering teeth, I’m not that far from my destination and it is late, I don’t want to put you out or any….

Peter cut me off by saying, great I’ll pull around.

I hung up and took the 15 seconds to try to make myself appear half decent. Using my sweater, I scrubbed my face, so my cheeks appeared pink from makeup and not from crying. I exhaled, just in time. Peter rolled down the window and said “ Hey beautiful, how you doing” which was the cheesy line he used to use every time I got into his car.

Partying hard, I said with a half- smile.

Yeah it looks like your going to be raving with that huge red bull he said smiling at the can in my hand. His green eyes looked sexy in the moonlight. His car smelt like firewood and high school memories. He wore his dark green sweater that his grandmother had given him on his 19th birthday coupled with a faded pair of distressed jeans. His shoes were white and seemed new. His hair was messy and tied into his version of a man bun.

I rubbed my hands together fast, thanks for the ride I said blowing into them. It’s freezing.

You know you could have called me Tif, I’ve been calling you for weeks, I’m sorry about what happened to Trac…..

No I said cutting him off, No! don’t! please, I can’t go there right now Peter, please. I’ll talk to you about anything else. I swear. The tears started falling before I even knew they were forming. Fuck! Now I’m crying in my ex boyfriend’s car on the way to see my dying sister in the hospital. What walking nightmare was this.

Tiffany, Peter said. I felt the car jerk like we had turned a corner and then it was in park and his arms were wrapped around me and I slumped my body into them sobbing like a newborn child.

It’s going to be okay Tif, I promise Peter whispered It’s going to be okay.

I wanted so hard to believe him but I couldn’t because I knew, I saw her everyday and my heart knew. Tracy wasn’t coming home from this and I don’t know if mentally I could either.

I cleared my throat..

Sorry… I didn’t mean to umm get my lipstick on your sweater… I should go.

I went for the door handle and Peter grabbed me by the shoulders

Tiff wait, he exhaled deeply, looking nervous before cracking his award winning smile.

Have I ever complained about your lipstick being on my shirt? Peter said smoothly

I couldn’t help but smile back, he was right.

So what are you doing out here anyway, I asked, desperate for a topic change as I could feel my cheeks turning bright red.

I work up the street at the gym and stopped at our old place to grab some mail. That and your mom called and said your dad had you screaming in-front of the hospital. Note to self, pocket dialing is a real thing and your mom herd everything.

Fuck, Really, I said looking down like a child that had just been scolded.

Yeah, but on the bright side she sounded more concerned than mad, Peter said rubbing my back.

Peter handed me my mail with a little black book. I looked at him puzzled. What’s with the book I asked curious, who sent this?

Beats me, Peter said shrugging his shoulders with a smile. Maybe you should open it.

Raising an eyebrow, I examined the little book. It looked sleek with what felt like a leather cover. It had a beautiful flower engraved on it and a black ribbon divider to separate the pages. A folded white paper was poking out of the book which caused me to open it. Inside, was Peter’s handwriting on the first page. It read,

Tiff, your painting from the Art Gallery sold today, please find your check enclosed. I wanted to be the first to say Congratulation’s to my fiancé.

Tiffany Ann Brooks, my gypsy princess, will you marry me.

I couldn’t believe what I was reading as I watched the check fall into my lap. I looked over at Peter who had an open box with the shiniest ring I had ever seen. My mouth was open but no sound came out. I just sat there, dumbfounded staring into his eyes. I opened up the check carefully. There were so many zeros on the paper I wanted to throw up. $50,000.00

$50,000.00 my mind screamed. Fifty thousand dollars!

Peter, I whispered, who, when. I don’t even know what to say.. I was laughing and crying hysterically.

Is that a yes? Peter said with a sexy smile.

Yes! I said overwhelmed with joy, now tell me who bought my painting!

Sure! Peter said

Tracy’s record company. She had it written into her contract that she had to have the first copy. That she wanted an original as it was her inspiration for all her music. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Where is it now? I asked biting my bottom lip at the mention of Tracy’sname. It’s on it’s way to the new home I just purchased for my future wife.

Like the painting she is a Limited Edition, I plan on taking care if for all my life.

I was dumbfounded, excited and sad all at the same time. I knew this was a moment that Tracy would have loved to be apart of. She would have been my first call and I would have been screaming with joy because I never stopped loving Peter and she knew that. I had broken up with him because I didn’t want him to be another casualty in my already messed up world.

Tears were burning in my eyes and I was trying desperately to hold them in.

Peter looked over at me with such warmth, understanding and love. His next words solidified that he was truly the one. He said while cupping my face.

“I know your sad because Tracy isn’t here to celebrate with you but Tif, just know she came with me to pick out your ring. She was the one that said, “ This one was made for her”.

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About the Creator

Sharika

I love writing, creating something out of nothing, the world is a canvas. Musically anything goes. I was the girl in high school in the corner with ear buds and notepad. Now I’m the women who dances to her own drum barefoot on shore.

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