The Holly and the Ivy

Misfortune Seemed His Lot

When Ivy arrived at Adam's place, Adam was lying on the couch. He was conscious now, but still extremely woozy. So when the buzzer rang, Holly was the one who answered the door and let Ivy in.

The businesswoman strode into the apartment confidently, scanning the scene before her: Adam lying on the couch motionless, a trail of blood leading from the kitchen to the living room, and two half-cooked steaks on the stove. She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, she walked over to her brother.

"I'm taking Holly to the hospital," she informed him.

"I should come," he said, trying to sit up. His sister pushed him down immediately.

"Relax," she instructed. "You should take it easy. I've got this. Besides, do you really want to be at the hospital when they sew Holly back together?"

Adam's face went pale, and Holly worried he was going to throw up.

"That's what I thought," Ivy said, heading for the door. "Don't worry. I'll text you updates."

Adam nodded and closed his eyes, slumping back down on the couch. "I love you, babe," he called to Holly as they left.

"Love you too," she called back, trying not to cringe under Ivy's watchful gaze.

"Thanks for coming," she told Ivy once they were out of the apartment.

"Of course," Ivy replied dismissively.

The two women piled into Ivy's car and took off, Holly trying her best to keep blood from dripping on the seats.

"So tell me," Ivy asked as she maneuvered the busy city streets with ease, "do all your dates with my brother go this smoothly?"

"Pretty much," Holly mumbled, still applying pressure to her hand.

The corners of Ivy's mouth turned upward, but she didn't say anything else.

They arrived at the hospital quickly. Ivy parked the car in the emergency room temporary parking and rushed her inside.

The older woman sitting behind a desk in the packed ER looked extremely bored as she thumbed through the pages of a magazine. It was as though the dozens of health crises happening around her were everyday occurrences. Then again, for her they probably were.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her tone matching the expression on her face.

"We need help," Ivy told the woman assertively. "She cut herself and can't stop the bleeding."

"Name?" the woman asked, looking over her glasses at Holly.

"Holly Kringle...man," Holly said, almost forgetting her modified name.

The woman stopped writing and looked up. "Is this a joke?"

Ivy yanked Holly's arm up over the counter, revealing the blood-soaked towel covering her hand."Does this look like a joke to you?" she demanded angrily.

The three watched as a drop of blood fell onto the magazine the woman had been reading.

"You got blood on my magazine," the woman observed, seemingly unfazed by Holly's injury.

"And you're going to have more on your hands if she dies from blood loss because you couldn't be bothered to get her medical attention due to you being too focused on her weird-ass name," Ivy threatened in a low voice.

The woman returned Ivy's icy stare with a few drawn out blinks. "We'll get you in right away," the woman said finally.

"Thank you," Holly tried to say before being dragged away from the counter by Ivy.