Part 12: What could possibly go wrong?

This was a terrible plan.

Molly sat in bed with crumpled paper scattered all around her. Until she slept off the vodka, she’d thought she’d found her answer to save Irene. But then she woke up and started writing her plan down, and all the doubts came flooding in.

Getting drunk would be the easy part. But then she had to get into the hospital and find Irene before the effects wore off. And she had to somehow come in contact with Irene without making Irene uncomfortable. Why hadn’t she just sucked up her fears and tried to have a vision when she’d had her chance?

Molly dropped her head in her hands, thinking once more about that vodka sitting in her cabinet. No! She needed to save that for her plan.

With a deep breath, she raised her head once more. She just needed to think about this rationally. By knowing her problems ahead of time, she could figure out how to get around them before the alcohol was in her system.

With her pen and notepad ready, she began to walk through every challenge that might present itself.

In order for any of this to work, she had to arrive at the hospital on a night Irene worked and find her. Well, I know Irene’s schedule, Molly thought. Tonight, two nights from now, and the night after that she’ll be working. Not much of an insight, but still baby step number one to making her plan fool-proof. She smiled and relaxed against her pillow as she started writing.

Irene wandered the floor sometimes to talk to patients or get a fresh cup of coffee. But other than that, she tended to be in her office as the majority of her job involved paperwork. So Molly needed to head straight for Irene’s office. Nodding, Molly scribbled that down as well.

Next, if Irene was in there, Molly would have no issues. The alcohol would still be in her system, she’d have her vision, and get out. But if Irene wasn’t in there, Molly would have to wait. And pray she wouldn’t be waiting for more than a few minutes because otherwise, she’d start sobering up.

Molly dropped the pen. Baby steps only got her so far. There were things she couldn’t control, and Irene being gone with a difficult patient or in a meeting were some of those things. Anything like that would blow a hole in her plan, leaving her nothing to protect herself from the fear when Irene finally did come back. If that happened, Molly would run away again. But the heart attack could happen any day. She couldn’t afford to delay this any further.

Her hand took hold of the paper, ready to crumple it and give up. But she couldn’t. If this plan didn’t work, the alternative was sitting down with Irene and allowing herself to get emotional with nothing but raw vulnerability to push her along. The thought of opening herself up that way again made her want to choke.

This plan had to work. It had to. She grabbed hold of the pen once more and stabbed the tip onto the paper, primed and ready to write. If there was a chance she’d get sober before Irene came, then she’d just need to prevent that from happening. How could she do that though?

Bring a thermos with me, she wrote.

Stunned, she stared at the breakthrough. Actually, that solved a few problems. She wouldn’t have to worry about traffic to the hospital or getting caught up in a conversation with a coworker on the way to Irene’s office. With a thermos filled with what she needed, she could get to the hospital, drink until she was buzzed, and then continue sipping on the thermos until she had her vision. And if she needed more alcohol after her vision, well, she’d probably have some left over.

Perfect.

Then the only other thing she needed was… how to trigger the vision.

She rested the pen on her pursed lips.

Going into her reasons for wanting to quit would get her emotional, but actually quitting would make it difficult to come back and save Irene when she needed to. No, she needed something less permanent for this round. But something that was still relevant to Irene so it wouldn’t be dismissed as a waste time.

Like how she’d been feeling lately. Like she wasn’t making a difference. What had Lizzie said? She gave herself a tally for every person who lived and took off a hundred for every person who died? That felt relevant. It connected with why Molly had been given this mini vacation, and would eventually tie nicely into a reason for quitting when that conversation finally happened.

But Molly was going to need a lot alcohol to get up the nerve to dive into that conversation. Good thing she’d have a thermos with her. She had a feeling that by the end of the night, she was going to need every last drop.

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