(If you recognize the castle and have not watched the ending… read no further)
She pushed her way out the revolving door, past the disgusting smokers, inhaling with them for a split second and wishing she had one. She needed to stretch off the moulded plastic chair she had been sitting on all night. Reaching the end of the overhang, it was beginning to get light out, nothing but a dreary drizzle… it had been “raining cats and dogs” earlier, as Ethel liked to say. They told her to go home, nothing she could do, they would call her. But Ethel was her best friend, so she sat and waited.
Cheryl had bought a Tribune, she didn’t bother with the front section, the news was always depressing and she felt bad enough. She skipped the financial section, no interest, but quick to exhaust the A & E for gossip. Sports were left, time to check and see if the Blackhawks were still undefeated. Their friend Betty had gotten them hooked on hockey. Betty lived near Detroit, so she was a Wings fan. She called them ‘her babies’, and went on and on about them… they weren’t doing well. Ethel and Cheryl found it exciting and watched all the games on TV. Betty had also turned them on to Downton Abbey. That’s who Cheryl was blaming for Ethel’s present condition, and her own discomfort. Downton Abbey… Julian Fellowes who writes the show, Dan Stevens (Mathew) for not renewing his contract so Mathew had to be killed… and Betty. Ethel was devastated and the shock was just too much for her.
A doctor came out and told Cheryl that Ethel was okay and ready to go home. He thanked her for waiting. “It had only been a case of bad heartburn.”
Cheryl felt bad. Ethel will be pissed she didn’t have a heart attack. She had insisted they order in from the new Mexican restaurant, and Ethel was not an adventurous eater. Cheryl had insisted on calling 911 when Ethel said she was okay. Maybe, she was to blame.