Chapter 12 "Send Me An Angel" (July 13, 1984)

(Song suggestion- "Send Me an Angel" by Real Life)

Janine

On the subway, I tried meditating. I desired to quiet my mind's constant fretting about my appointment. The clamor, the weirdos, and the subway reeked and prevented me from obtaining the serenity I wanted to achieve to tackle therapy today. Sighing, I exited the station at my stop and strolled to my therapist's building near the Columbia campus.

Then I thought about my favorite t-shirt of Dr. Spengler's that I used to like to wear on occasion when I slept over at the firehouse while we dated. It was a solid light blue with "Columbia University" on one side and the coat of arms on the back. It smelled like a mix of Egon's nautical cologne and his particular scent. As a result, I adored it. On occasion, when the guys were in a bust, I would take a sniff if I was missing Dr. Spengler or if I needed to relax.

It was now almost five fifteen, and the cruel July sun beat down on us New Yorkers as we hurried from place to place in the vast city. The sky was aqua blue but clear without any clouds.

Craning my neck up, I detected the tall buildings around me, and I felt like a tiny ant in a giant anthill searching for food. Regrettably, I wiped the sweat from my brow and kept moving.

Dr. Monika Smith-Telles was a short, skinny lady in her late sixties with an easy-going and trustworthy personality. The older woman covered her gray hair by dying it a pale blonde which brought out her unique eye color, violet. Her makeup was caked on her face, almost like Tammy Faye Baker, though.

"Hi Janine, how are you," Dr. Smith-Telles inquired in her sing-song voice as I sat down on the brown love seat in her office. She gave me an amiable smile, and I muttered that I was OK.

"How's Peter," she questioned, then took a sip from her coffee mug.

"Well. He's enjoying the success of the Ghostbusters and the attention it is bringing him," I answered. I emphasized the word him and noticed that she chuckled at my choice to stress it. Dr. Smith-Telles knew Dr. Venkman how much he adored the recognition.

"It is exhilarating to have a former student as a local celebrity," Dr. Smith-Telles commented, offhandedly, "where did we leave off last week, Janine?"

Although I desired to probe more about Peter, I reminded her that I had left off where Egon had been given a tranquilizer after attacking Victor.

As I watched Ray and Lucy carry Egon to his bed, Peter had thrown me over his shoulder like a father picking up his daughter, throwing a tantrum.

"Peter Venkman put me down! This dress is expensive. Put me down right now," I cried sonorously, beating his back with my fists. Maniacally, he laughed either out of craziness or shock. When Peter, at last, laid me down gently on his bed, I interrogated him frantically,

"Is Egon going to be all right? Peter, he's bleeding badly, and he has a black eye forming. I have to be there when he wakes up, please."

Although my boss laid me down, I sat up promptly awaiting his response, wild-eyed and frightened for Egon's health.

"Yes, Janine, I promise your beloved will be fine, but you must alleviate your stress level. You will stay here with Lucy to cool off by either praying, meditating , sleeping, taking a bath, or punching a pillow. I don't care. Just do it. You can't help Egon by acting cuckoo," Peter coolly replied, defusing the situation the best that he could.

Next, he gave me a short embrace, noting I was still weeping.

"It's this or a tranquilizer, Janine, and I am not afraid to administer it to you. Lucy will stay there for right now while you calm down," Dr. V. assuaged, " Please, Brooklyn."

"I'm just so worried about him; to see him hurt like that tears my heart apart," I whispered, heartbroken and still sniffing some.

"J, please, listen to Pete, and then you can go. We will take care of him," Lucy confirmed, looking overwhelmed herself. Wiping my eyes, I exhaled loudly, "Ok."

Excusing myself, I had to go to the restroom because I had to pee. I padded in there and shut the door. Next, I took care of business, then I washed my hands and dried them. I dared myself to look into the mirror.

There, I stood, peering back at myself in an elegant red sleeveless dress with my black eyeliner and mascara running down my face. My eyes were swollen from crying, and matching bags materialized underneath them. I detected the gash underneath my eye courtesy of Victor.

Frowning, I began to cry again. My heart felt extremely heavy in my chest, and I felt downtrodden.

"What the hell is happening today!?" I cried out loud.

I washed my face meticulously, then patted it dry with a towel.

"Stupid Victor, I knew I should have just broken up with him," I mumbled to myself as I gingerly grazed the wounded area with my fingertips. It stung a little, and I searched Venkman's bathroom cabinets for some rubbing alcohol to clean the cut.

When I found some, I wet some tissue paper to apply it. I sucked in my breath because it burned as I wiped the area clean and I flushed the paper down the toilet. Afterward, I washed and dried my hands and went into the bedroom, where I sat on the bed. My charm bracelet twinkled as I moved, and I grinned, hearing it.

First, I used my fingers to touch the sapphire heart, then the rose charm. A warmness engulfed my heart as a result.

Lucy's expression was full of anxiety, and she began to speak to cover the oddness. Dismissing her horizontally with a shake of my head, I indicated that I couldn't talk yet. I had to process everything, so I flopped down on the bed and fastened my eyes shut for a moment.

"What happened next," Dr. Smith-Telles inquired, wide-eyed. She scratched out some notes on her legal pad after I commenced speaking again.

"I fell asleep for a short while," I explained, "I guess I was so emotionally saturated that I was knocked out."

"You were inundated with emotions, what kind," she further probed.

" Scared and distraught about Egon's health, and also, I felt inundated with love and tenderness for him. Third, I was furious with Victor," I revealed.

" I still feel the same way now, but I am not fretful. Egon's cuts have healed, and his black eye is gone, too."

"Have you communicated to him outside of work," Dr. Smith questioned, "Or as he approached you?"

"No, Egon's giving me space. Of course, he is my boss, and I have to see him," I replied uneasily. Dr. Smith-Telles prodded me to continue.

I awoke to a dark room feeling bewildered by what occurred as it felt like a dream or a plot in a movie. As soon as I remembered, I rolled off Dr. Venkman's bed and scampered out to the landing precipitously. Lucy and Peter spoke in hushed tones until my appearance because they did not expect me to show up.

Both gave me wide-eyed surprise expressions, almost like I caught them misbehaving. When I asked how long I had been asleep, they told me it had been thirty minutes. I sat down in an empty chair then turned to glare at Ray and Egon's bedroom door.

"How is Egon?"

"Fine, Janine. Asleep," Peter said reassuringly.

Dr. Venkman had retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and brought four shot glasses to the table. Three were already faced down, indicating that the others had used them. Lucy and Peter took shots, and I assumed Ray had, too. Peter twisted the cap off and poured me a shot in the lone clean glass. My right hand slightly wavered as I picked it up and I brought it to my lips. Swiftly, the liquid was gone, and I put the shot glass down as Venkman lit a cigarette for himself.

"May I have one" I inquired; my expression was one of devastation, and my voice sounded like a little girl terrified out of her mind.

Nodding, Dr. Venkman handed me a smoking stick from his pack and flipped his BIC lighter as I brought it to my lips. I quit the habit about ten years ago, and I now only smoked when I was extraordinarily perturbed. After I inhaled the tobacco and exhaled, I thanked him. We didn't speak as we smoked our cigarettes until Lucy softly inquired, "How are you holding up, J?"

She rose from her seat next to Peter and she went to the kitchen to open the refrigerator.

"What happened to your face," Peter questioned.

"Is it bleeding again!? My face burns a little from Victor's ring," I explained as Lucy came back to the table with an ice pack for me to put on my cut. I exhaled a cloud of smoke from my mouth as I tried not to think about it.

"Yes, a little. Did that mother f**ker do that," Peter's voice rose in anger as he pounded his fist on the table while questioning me. It was rare that he became that sore, and even Lucy, who had known him longer than I had, was stunned. Dr. V. poured another shot for himself.

"No more Peter," Lucy warned, glowered at him, " you have had four."

"Lucy, you don't have any...," Peter argued and poured another one for himself. Afterward, she swiftly took the bottle and gave him a "shhh" sound with her index finger over her lips.

"What is going on here?" I finally inquired after watching the interaction because something seemed askew.

Peter glared at Lucy, who shook her head from side to side, then they both said "nothing."

"One more shot," Lucy probed me.

My gaze fell towards Egon's bedroom. Tears fell from my eyes as Peter put out his cigarette in the ashtray, exhaling a cloud of smoke above my head.

"Half, please, and that is it," I answered firmly, after wiping the tears away," I hate whiskey, but I feel like I am a little calmer. My body doesn't handle hard liquor well."

After I put my cigarette out, I suspired heavily.

"What are you going to do with Iggy," Dr. V. Probed.

"I-I-I...don't...know. First, I have to make sure that he is OK," I stammered, forlornly and Lucy examined me closely as I spoke. She looked thoughtful.

"In May, we broke up for good," I reminded him, wearily, "I can't allow him to string me along, Peter."

At the moment. I didn't feel like engaging in the argument with Dr. V, although he meant well. The differing emotions I felt of love and being honored from Egon's valiant actions now, but also of anger, disappointment, and irritation at my beloved's choice to dump me in May, were disconcerting.

"But you two are deeply in love with each other," my boss countered, lighting another cigarette, and I downed my second shot.

"Egon has to prove to me that he wants to be with me, not the other way around," I growled at him. I didn't want to listen to Peter's lecture about Egon and our relationship because I had to call the shots. Yes, I loved Egon more than life itself, but I couldn't turn my life upside down anymore. This was my life, and I had to live it. Lucy left the landing to join Ray in his bedroom.

On the one hand, I wanted to wrap Egon in my arms and love him as he had never been. I felt adamant in my decision to make him prove his desire for me in his life for good.

"But didn't Egon just prove it," I felt a tiny voice inside of me ask quietly.

By my response and the flash of rage in my eyes, Peter could tell that it was pointless for him to continue. We sat in silence for another five minutes, and then I rose to go to the bathroom. At first, I felt a little tipsy from the alcohol, and the battered wooden chair that I sat on squealed with a loud frequency as I pushed back from the table.

"I am going to check on him, and don't stop me, please," I announced.

Determinedly, I went into the kitchen to make an ice pack. I felt distraught with worry, and Peter gave me a smile saying when I returned,

"Iggy will be ok, Janine. I gave him a quarter of a regular dose of Thorazine that doctors use to restrain patients."

"How long will he be out for," I inquired, concerned.

"At most, two hours," Dr. Venkman replied, completing the ice pack.

"Thanks for the whiskey and the smoke, Peter. I owe you one," I stated, giving him a wink.

"We are family here, and we take care of each other," he reminded, grinning.

Returning his smile, I nodded solemnly then picked up the ice pack.

Feeling a slight buzz from the whiskey, my thoughts were on Egon's well-being.

Ray and Lucy were sitting by Egon's bed quietly whispering and examining him. Rising from her chair, she motioned to her brother to leave the room.

Before I set my gaze on my hero, I took a deep breath to fortify myself from seeing him wounded. I already knew that this would be worse than when he was bleeding from punching the glass in the fire extinguisher almost a year ago. Slowly, I viewed Egon sleeping on the bed with a black eye beginning to form. As a result, I gasped loudly and let out a sob. I hadn't even looked below his eyes yet.

I began to weep over him as he slept. Next, I studied his bloodied nose, the scratch on his chin, the dry crusted gore on his lip, and the bruise that was forming underneath his left eye.

"Oh Egon, what did that creep do to you?"

The tranquilizer knocked him out. All the while, I hovered over him, cleaning his wounds gingerly as my heart pounded in my chest thunderously. I picked up the ice pack and placed it on his skin ever so softly. Egon flinched and moved away, so I stood from my chair to find a towel in the bathroom. With it now around the ice compress, I hoped it would not wake him from his slumber. The second time I pressed the ice pack on Egon' s eye, he didn't move a muscle.

I silently prayed for his recovery for several minutes.

"Doris will never believe me when I tell her that Victor hit me," I thought to myself, " and she's friends with his sister!"

Viewing him asleep, I noted how his usually perfectly coiffed hair was messy in the front with parts of it sticking up, and I used my free hand to smooth it down a bit. As my fingertips felt his dark abundant, wavy hair, I felt tempted to run my hands through it. That was one thing that I liked doing when we were dating, and Egon never did seem to mind. He had a nice head of hair, and I enjoyed touching it as it was surprisingly velvety.

"Oh, my poor Egon," I whispered, removing my hand from his hair and slipping it in his right hand as he slept. They fit together like a glove, and I felt my knees buckle a little.

"Pull it together, Melnitz ," I reprimanded after I allowed myself to touch his jawline with my index finger on my free hand. I suddenly felt intensely sleepy. As a result, I yawned and moved off the chair, and sat on the edge of Egon's bed. I quietly placed my head on his chest and rested my eyes.

"I don't think Egon will mind," I thought before I drifted off to sleep.

"Ok, our time is up," my therapist announced as I sobbed heavily.

"Why do I feel worse," I asked, my lower lip quivering nearly to nobody in particular.

"You are releasing all of your emotions, Janine," Dr. Smith-Telles sympathetically informed, putting her hand on my arm.

"It's going to be harrowing. I am sorry, but in the end, it will help you in clarifying your future actions regarding Egon."

"OK," I responded sadly.

I left Dr. Smith- Telles' office to meet Wendy at our health club in Brooklyn via subway, feeling problematic about the situation. Releasing some steam by playing racquetball would be beneficial, so I made sure that I kept my date with my roommate.

I became urgently desperate for a time away from all of my problems- Egon and the paper for my class. My summer class met once a week so that the professor could tear apart our outlines and ideas for our senior research papers. This summer, Dr. Williams destroyed three of my outlines for research proposals but he recently approved the latest one last week.

Egon Spengler

When I attended my next therapy appointment, Dr. Blair questioned me to resume the place I left off a week ago. Slowly, I recalled the incident.

I found Janine sleeping next to me when I woke from the tranquilizer to my great surprise and happiness. Her gentle, rhythmic breathing going in and out gave me a soothing feel. Meanwhile , my head thumped with pain and my nose felt broken. Having Janine's head on my chest and glancing down at her sleeping face made me exhilarated and it made the pain go away even though it wasn't rational. Then I saw the gash under her eye and felt my body tense up defensively

"Calm down, Egon," I told myself, gradually bringing my right hand to Janine's uncovered back, where I rubbed it in small circles. My right hand felt throbbed from punching Victor or attempting to earlier because I hadn't been in many fights in my life.

I didn't bother attempting to contemplate the reality of the situation, so I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes for a little longer.

"I love you, Janine Louise Melnitz," I mumbled before I fell back asleep.

When I awoke later, Janine hovered over me, misty-eyed from crying with an ice pack in her hand over my bruised right eye. Her beautiful aura spawned a tranquilizing awareness in me. Instantly, I grabbed her free hand, forcing her to gasp gleefully.

"Egon," Janine exclaimed, her face lighting up like a shooting star in the sky as new tears of joy glided down. She swiftly removed the ice compress down and bent down to hug me. Blissfully, I shut my eyes as she did so, feeling elated. I moved my arms around her body and held them there for a short while.

" Thank God! I have been so worried about you. Oh, Egon, are you OK," Janine happily inquired.

I nodded slowly, but my eye socket was sore, and both my nose and lip felt puffy, so I told her so. Janine lifted her head from my chest, sat up and viewed me with compassion. She tenderly touched the areas of my face that weren't injured.

"I am so sorry," she cried, sobbing again.

"Shh, Janine, please do not cry. I can't believe that jerk hit you," I soothed her , and I clasped her hand tightly.

Gazing into Janine's eyes, I searched them to scrutinize her emotional state of mind. My former girlfriend was immensely keyed up with everything that had occurred in the past couple of hours. Janine lowered her eyes to where our hands were touching, and I felt her silky skin with my index fingers.

"What happened afterward?"

"Nothing," I responded my therapist.

Ray

Suddenly, Janine rang the bell, indicating that we had a client while we were eating Greek food at

nine at night.

"Shit, I thought we were done for the day," Peter groaned. He had just settled on the couch and commenced snoozing. He stood up, stretched, and went to put his jumpsuit on. I slid down the pole and greeted Janine as I was the only one ready to go. Egon followed by and by, and eventually Peter. Janine described the case to Ray,

"Ray, you have a class five free-roaming vapor poltergeist at The Rose, a dance club, north of here."

"The Rose? The dance club? I have been there- it's a young crowd, but maybe I can pick up some chicks," Peter responded, as the other two packed Ecto One with equipment.

"Keep it in your pants, Dr. V. You have a job to complete first," Janine wittily snapped, causing Egon and me to burst into laughter spontaneously. Even Peter smirked at her.

"That's a good one, Brooklyn, BRAVO," he chuckled, overdramatizing his praise.

"Are you THAT heartbroken over that chick that dumped you," I questioned Venkman in awe?

"No, that chick is history," Venkman muttered, but I noticed Egon had a sly smile on his face. He also turned tomato red as Spengler gave him a knowing look.

"Did the ultimate player in the City, Peter Venkman, finally get his feelings hurt?" Janine posed a good question. She was blowing bubbles with her bubble gum.

"Good one, J," I encouraged, smiling, and she winked at me in return.

"Are you jealous, Janine Melnitz, that it is me who is getting some, and you aren't?"

"I am not even dignifying that with a response," our secretary quipped and smacked her gum.

Egon confronted Peter by standing almost in his face, nose to nose, with an exceedingly menacing grimace.

"What?! Janine can dish it but not take it," Peter exclaimed, stepping backward from Iggy, " Spengler, that's not fair."

"Leave her alone," Egon snarled, thus alleviating the tension from the room.

The Rose was a popular hang out for the eighteen to twenty-five crowd. Many patrons had plenty of Mommy's and Daddy's money. It was only twelve blocks north of the firehouse. We finished gathering our equipment and sat in Ecto One. Janine waved goodbye, and I put the car in reverse to back out of the Firehouse.

"What's the deal with you and Janine now," I asked Iggy, who was playing with the PKE meter.

"Huh?"

Egon didn't respond for a long time after I repeated the question.

" I haven't forgiven myself for not protecting her in April, " Iggy answered, a matter of factly like he was answering a complicated Physics question.

"I hoped that by defending her from Victor, that would boost your chances," Peter commented.

"Me too, but I have put her through too much. Janine's not willing to give me another chance right now because she's afraid I will hurt her," he added stubbornly.

"Well, I admire your dedication," I admitted, stopping at a red light, but Spengler didn't say anything. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel as I waited for the light to change.

The Rose was a two-story red brick building that used to be a ballet school in the 1950s. According to legend, the best student, a thirteen-year-old girl named Rose, was shot there by another student out of jealousy. The building owner quickly shut down his ballet school and boarded the building, never seeing the City again. Since then, various owners converted it into a health club, a dance studio, and even a roller skating rink. However, Rose always scared patrons off by throwing their shoes, clothes, and other items at them. The new owner, a tall man with a large protruding stomach dressed in black suspenders, black slacks, and a checkered blue and white shirt, met us outside of the club.

"When I bought the building five years ago, I thought if I named it 'The Rose', it would somehow appease her to stop haunting it, but I was very wrong. Rose will sometimes appear on the dance floor, showing off her moves, dumping drinks over people's heads while dancing, and throwing plastic cups at patrons. She's driving off my clientele, and I am losing money now," the man replied angrily.

"Ok, let's go check it out," Peter stated, taking charge as we stood around Ecto One with our proton packs on our backs.

We devised a plan after we scoped out the place and reminded Peter three or four times that we weren't there to gawk at the attractive females right now. It was to get Rose on the dance floor to show us her dance moves and then open a trap to capture her. Egon ensured all twenty-five patrons were safely outside and then took PKE readings. He indicated that she was definitely in the area and that our plan was a good solid one. On the strobe-lit dance floor with New Wave pumping in an almost deafening manner from the speakers, Peter called, "Rose, may I see your dance moves?"

"Where are you," he hollered, walking around in a circle as the lights flashed off and on, making his facial features visible.

"I have heard that you are the best dancer here," I added, carefully walking onto the dance floor, " please?"

"Ok, let's try dancing," Peter suggested, starting to move back and forth on his feet " Hey DJ, give us something with a beat."

The African American man in the booth spun some Prince for us to move to while convincing Rose to emerge eventually. We also peppered her with compliments about her dancing. It did take a while, so Egon even joined us awkwardly on the dance floor to entice the ghost.

As a typical pre-teen, Rose couldn't ignore the attention she was getting. We continued to dance until she appeared. The girl was no taller than 5 feet with her dirty blonde hair in a french braid dressed in a pink tutu, white leggings, and pink ballet shoes.

Swiftly, Egon stepped off the dance floor to retrieve the ghost trap. On my signal, the theoretical physicist carefully threw it on the floor and opened it in the middle of the dance floor where Rose danced. Happily, she sang as she pirouetted over the trap, and it ingested her, working like clockwork. Next, Peter checked to ensure she was in there by tapping on the smoking trap and then announced, "all done, Tex."

"All right, guys," I cheered, looking at the other members of our team with a big wide grin on my face.

We all were pleased with our catch.

Meanwhile, the owner and the twenty-five young patrons rushed onto the dance floor with forceful energy and cheered loudly at our success. Spectacular-looking women of different ethnicities, sizes, ages and shapes surrounded us to convey their thankfulness. To top it off, they wanted to dance with the heroes of the Rose- us, and I felt dazed by the number of fantastic women..

"Ok, ok, there's plenty of time for dancing. Let us put up our equipment and take off our uniforms halfway, then we will love to party with you," Peter promised, giving the adoring female crowd a bright grin. Egon was halfway out of the door already with the trap because it wasn't safe to keep around in the open.

As we took care of our equipment, the manager wrote us a fat check for $5K, and he promised to give us free drinks for the rest of the night if we wanted to celebrate there tonight.

"Come on, Egon, you can still be in love with Janine and dance with one chick," Peter urged the brown wavy haired GB as we got our drinks at the bar. He and I drank beer, but Egon, a coke.

"No," Iggy replied firmly, with a straight face.

Later, three scantily-clad gorgeous ladies with stylish outfits of the day that barely covered their breasts and their womanly parts requested us to dance. I, however, attempted not to stare at the sexy women around me, and Venkman reminded me to close my mouth. Only Egon denied their requests by shaking his head dismissively.

"OK, suit yourself," Peter replied, turning his back on the oldest Ghostbuster, who stood against the bar. Our fearless leader paired up with the two blondes, and I took the brunette. I wasn't picky when it came to pretty women. All women fascinated me as a puzzle I never could solve, no matter how hard I attempted. Meanwhile, a curly hair woman sauntered up to me and cooed,

"You are so brave. I was so terrified."

She put her hand on my chest suggestively and introduced herself, "my name is Lana, by the way. Let's go dance."

With her free hand, the beautiful brunette pulled me on the dance floor, and I forgot all about Spengler. Lana and I began dancing to "Send Me An Angel," by Real Life.

Egon

"Send me an angel, right now," I sang as I left Peter and Ray at the Rose after I finished my coke. The atmosphere was stuffy in the club as many additional young people arrived in the congested building. Apparently, it was a popular spot to be on a Thursday night.

The air had become a little insufferable there, and I was happy to leave. Besides, Janine was waiting for us to come back before she left for the night, and it was close to ten forty-five already.

I enjoyed the cool breeze of the evening air as I strolled home. We had shed our jumpsuits earlier with our proton packs, and now the short sleeve black t-shirt felt more appropriate for the weather. It was a fourteen-block walk back to the Firehouse, but I didn't mind it. I safely had the check from The Rose's owner in my pocket.

When I made it back home, I hesitantly opened the door. Janine had avoided me since the conflict with Victor a week ago. Our situation was tricky, and I thought about my therapy appointment earlier and the emotional aspect. Recalling Victor injuring Janine made my blood pressure heighten dangerously.

My Casio watch beeped, announcing that it was eleven thirty, and I entered the firehouse quietly. Janine dimmed the lights except in the reception area.

When she came into my view, I found myself gaping at her beauty. Janine wore her hair with more curl, volume, and bounce lately, which flattered her. The red in her hair shone with the light on it, and it almost seemed to form a halo over her.

"Ironically, I called her my angel, " I thought as I approached her desk.

Janine wore a black collared sleeveless dress with a belt around her tiny waist and pockets over her breasts. Her bright orange day glow toenails peeked through the long dress and made me smile.

"Hello, Janine, Ray, and Peter are staying at the Rose for... uhm...entertainment. Thanks for staying late," I softly greeted as I watched her read a book for her research paper as I strolled to her desk. This summer, Janine had been particularly stressed about it as she was finally one class away from graduation and anxious about her future.

"You are welcome. Did everything go alright, Dr. Spengler" Janine questioned, lifting her face from her book to meet my eyes.

"Yes, thank you. Why don't you go home? It's late," I replied, not staring at her too long, and I went to deposit the check in the safe in the back of Ray's office.

Before I did, I heard Janine retrieve her items from her bottom desk drawer. Thoughtfully, I returned to her desk to ask if she wanted an escort to the Subway since it was now dark and after eleven in the night. I needed to know that Janine was safe.

"Yes, I would actually," She seemed relieved when I offered.

"Would you mind waiting for a second so I can lock up the check," I inquired, happy that she agreed to it.

"Sure," she stated and she sat down with her belongings again as I went into Stantz's office to store the check. When I returned, Janine rose from her seat and we strolled side by side out the Firehouse and to the nearest subway station, silently. I had expected it to be particularly uneasy based on the happenings of last week, and I wasn't disappointed. Furthermore, I attempted not to gaze at her beauty too much. There were things I wanted to say to the lovely redhead lady too, but I felt like I couldn't. The timing was incorrect.

"Good night, Janine. Have a good evening," I wished, as we stopped for a second before she descended the stairs.

"Thanks, Dr. Spengler, you too."

Janine

Dear Diary,

Why is everything so difficult with Egon if we are supposed to be together?

On top of that, this research paper is a pain in my ass. I think my research topic will be approved finally, but who knows? I am so tired of this summer already, and it has just begun!

Why is there such upheaval in my life? When I finally get this degree in December and leave the Ghostbusters, will that put it to an end? I am sick to death of the stress of the "Egon" situation at work on top of this ridiculously demanding professor. I have been praying for God to give me an answer, but He is silent. Meanwhile, I am losing sleep and feel myself losing hope. Hope for happiness with Egon? Maybe. Hope for finally finish this degree? Possibly.

I can't wait to go to Fire Island with Bree in a couple of weeks. I need a vacation!