Mary Jane now sat in a cab on the way home from the doctor's office. With multiple patients heading in and out of there all day, it was no wonder that they wouldn't have test results until the end of the day. That meant that they would call—that meant she would have to beat Peter to the phone if he were to be around.
The cab stopped once she realized she was in front of the pale gray building of her apartment complex on Soho. She walked up her stairs with plenty on her mind only to realize that Peter was nowhere to be found. She was actually a little relieved—now she could call Harry.
She dialed his number and he picked up with brooding in his voice, "Hello?"
"Hi Harry, it's M.J. How are you doing?"
His voice came up an octave, not as to alarm her to his depressive state, "Oh hi. I'm fine. I was wondering when you were going to call."
"See, that's the funny thing. I don't remember writing the message down to, in fact, call you and I really can't recall the last time I actually spoke to you so I..."
Harry stumbled into her sentence, "The last you spoke to me was about a month ago M.J. I can't believe you don't remember," he started chuckling to himself, "We were at the Theatrical Gala in the theatre district?" She didn't seemed to be catching on after he paused a moment, so he continued, "We went to dinner after Pete didn't show? Had chow mien...and a lot to drink?"
A blurred image stirred through Mary Jane's mind. Washes of cheesy music and wine glasses flowed over her. She started to feel dizzy, "Harry, I..."
"You kept going on and on about how Pete was never there for you and how when he finally was, he wasn't going to stay. "He never stays!" you said, just like that. Just like that. But ol' Harry stays around. Yeah, I stay around. You even thanked me for staying around..."
M.J. felt like she was going to throw up. She fought the bitter taste in her mouth, dropped the phone to the floor and ran to the bathroom.
"M.J? Hello—are you there? M.J?" Harry called over the receiver.
"M.J? Where are you?! Are you okay?" It was Peter.
Mary Jane looked up from where she so feebly sat on the ground by the toilet to see Peter with a worried expression on his features.
"Oh God," she whispered out loud.
"What? Are you okay? What happened?" Peter was looking around frantically for God only knows what...and looked at the phone on the floor. He picked it up and just put it back on the receiver. He came down to her side and brought her into his arms, "It's okay, I'm here."
'But I told Harry you never were...' she thought. "I just got back from the doctor's. They are going to be calling later tonight."
"So we won't know anything until later. Okay. I think you should just rest and wait it out until then." She simply submitted to him as he effortlessly picked her up and walked her over to the bed. He placed her down but she didn't want to let go.
"Thank you," she said, finally releasing her grip from around his neck. Mary Jane didn't realize until now that she was so exhausted from everything going on, even if most of it was mental panic; she quickly fell into comatose as Peter headed out to the living room to read.
He was only a couple of chapters into East of Eden when he heard the door knock rather loudly. Peter rushed to it in hopes not to wake M.J. He opened the door to find Harry, confused and tired, looking straight back at him.