Before I’m fully awake, before I’ve even wiped the sleep out of my eyes, I’m on the phone and calling the ICU. Doris answers. When I ask how she is, she says “the same.”
I’ve never known ambivalence like this before. Relief is a visceral thing because she’s not dead or in a coma, but it’s quickly followed by the steady build of fear. How much more of this can her body take?
I know that this horrible waiting is more than I can take. Still I stumble bleary-eyed into the shower, quickly soap up my body. It’s too early to head in, and besides, my presence will not be tolerated overlong in the ICU, as it’s a Monday. I don’t know what else to do. So I go to the Planet.
Kit is there, wrangling a cart full of pastries. “Hey there, girl,” she smiles. “How’s Shane?”
I smile. It doesn’t reach my eyes, let alone my heart. I sniffle, rub my nose. “The same, they tell me. I’m heading in.”
“Sit down, I’ll take care of you.”
I nod. It is still too early for the morning crowd. I sit there, feeling cold in my gray hoodie and scrubs.
Kit comes back with two coffees and my favorite berry muffin.
“Thanks, Kit.”
“No problem. I’m glad you dropped by, I wanted to ask you if it was okay to send flowers yet. We have a collection, it’s almost up to two hundred bucks.”
“Really? That’s great. I should give you some money.”
“Don’t worry about it. Your name’s on the card. We’re just glad you’re able to be there with her.”
“We’ll see. I have a feeling today’s the day they’re gonna kick my ***** out.” I stir some creamer into my coffee and stare into space.
“How you holdin’ up, Darah?”
I shrug. “I dunno. When they brought her in she was bleeding out and going into shock. I can’t get it out of my head.”
“Did they say anything about her prognosis?”
“Great, if they can get her infection under control.” And if not, she will die.
“Does she know about Cherie yet?”
“Huh? Oh, no. I didn’t want to tell her until she’s stable.”
“You might watch she doesn’t see any papers – there’s a big story in yesterday’s.”
“Jeez. I don’t know how I’m gonna tell her.”
“Just tell her, Boo. The important thing is that you’re there.”
I nod. “Speaking of, I should go. If she wakes up and I’m not there…”
“I’ll fix you some goodies to go. Don’t move.”
“You don’t have to, Kit!”
“Well I am, so there. Sit.”
So, I sit. It’s so peaceful here this early. The sun filters gently through the high windows.
And then Tonya walks in. I try to shrink closer to a potted fern. Foliage. Brilliant! Hide me, shield me, ficus tree. But she spots me. She waves, then comes rushing over. “Hi, D, how are you honey? Oh, my, GOD, how is Shane?”
“I can’t really comment on that, Tonya.”
“What?” She blinks, fake smile plastered on her face.
“Federal confidentiality laws prohibit me from disseminating any information about patients in my care.”
Tonya pouts stormily, her brows furrowing. “Oh. Well, is she gonna be okay?” I am not in the mood for this chick’s *****. It’s too early. She could at least send her regards, or send her well wishes, but no, this ***** is burrowing for the scoop. “I don’t ***** know, all right! I dunno! Is that what you want to hear?”
“I’m sorry,” Tonya says, and even though it’s Ton Ton, I feel like *****.
“Sorry,” I mutter and get up, taking a big swig of the coffee. “I gotta go.”
.
Later, armed with Kit’s motherly sweetness and a box of Planet pastries, I walk into the ICU. Shane isn’t there.
“Where’s Shane?” I ask one of the doctors.
“Um, they just took her to the CCU.”
The relief I’m feeling blooms sweetly through my head. The CCU is a step down from ICU, for less critical patients. I grin. “No way. That’s great. Did the fever come down?”
“Not really, but we had to make room for a multi MVA.”
“Oh,” I say, and hope drains out of me like a physical thing.
This rollercoaster is exhausting. The highs, the lows. How much more of it can I take?
I walk down to the CCU. I’m glad she’s here. I’ll be able to spend the day here without attracting attention.
They’ve cleaned her up, changed her into a hospital gown dotted with blue fleurs de lis. She’s awake, eyes open, and turns to look at me when I come in.
“Hey.” She seems to be all there, eyes totally lucid.
“Hi there,” I say, voice suddenly catching in my throat. “How are ya feeling?”
She closes her eyes. “Bad. My brain hurts.”
I touch her forehead, stroke the hair back. Not as warm, but still clammy. They’ve cathed her, and the bag of urine hanging beside the bed is a dark red-brown shade. Not good.
“Want me to ask them for something?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you drink some water?”
“That would be good. I knocked it over.”
I look down and realize that there is indeed a pitcher on the floor, its former contents drying on the tile. Something about that breaks my heart. She wanted water, but she was too weak to get it. Oh, god.
I come back into her room with a fresh pitcher full of icy water. Pour her a cup, and help her sit up a little. She sniffles, then sips it. Did Al and Jenny leave?
Good god, she doesn’t know what day it is.
Yeah. You were in the ICU, they dont let visitors up there. I stroke some hair back from her warm forehead.
Except you, she whispers. Cause youre so ***** special.
I grin. No, because I was able to keep your ***** calm.
Her eyes close and her lips slowly morph into a dreamy smile.
Do you remember what happened?
Hmm. Seems like a long time ago. I remember closing the salon. And I heard this car driving up, slowing down. The way it slowed down made me notice… feel kind of paranoid. Because it wasnt parking. Because a car that pulls up like that always means business.”
Wow, I guess she would know that. I’ve never appreciated the depth of her street smarts.
She is quiet, breathing deeply. I think she may have fallen asleep. I should probably put her bed back down…
“I looked up, and saw the window come down, and a gun. And then I dont know what the ***** happened, except that my arm hurt like a ***** and there were cops everywhere.
Did you see who shot you?
No. Just the gun, and I ducked… If I hadnt, my brain would have been splattered… all over the window of Lather.
I wince, press my hand to my mouth, and thank God her eyes are closed so she doesn’t see the way those words hit me.
I take a deep breath, then clear my throat. There were cops sitting there, doing surveillance on another house. They saw the whole thing, shot out Steves tires and radioed for help. Thats how they got you here so quick.
Oh.
So theres no way Steves getting out. They have him on attempted murder.
Holy *****. Cheries going to freak.
Im sure she is. Shane doesnt know that Cherie is dead, and this is not the time to tell her. I don’t know how she feels for her ex lover, and I don’t want to know, because it could hurt me so much. And that’s horrible, because my feelings should be the last of my concerns right now.
I cant believe he thought I was such a threat. I mean, I wasnt in that bathroom for more than a second…
People in love do stupid things. Would Steve have done it if he wasnt fueled by the desperation of Cheries suicide? I doubt it. Or if he did, he would have at least done it more discreetly, hired a hit man. No. No more. I’m not going down that road.
I clean up the old cups of juice and water from her tray table, then settle back into my chair. I once thought I’d never get enough of staring at her smoky beauty, but right now I’d be happy never to see her in bed again.
*****. That was a thought I never dreamed I’d have.
I close my eyes, counting her breaths. I drift and realize that they are my breaths too, that I’m breathing in synch with her.
Time passes. I don’t know if I’m asleep, but I’m just drifting, and that’s what I need to do.
“Darah.”
I don’t know if she’s spoken, or if it was a dream or waking hallucination. But her eyes are closed, and she seems to be asleep.
She has become paler. Her BP is good because of the drugs they have in her, but her temp has spiked back up to 102.6 and she is wheezing slightly.
“I’m here, sweetie,” I say, touching her cheek. “I’m right here.”
.
That night her fever breaks, and stays broken. It stays down until ten o’ clock. She asks for food and fluids, and just before I go home the nurses bring her a light snack.
“Go home, D,” she mumbles. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.”
“Okay.” I should be relieved, but I’m so empty as I kiss her forehead and say goodbye.
“I’ll be more entertaining tomorrow, I promise.” Her eyes slowly flutter shut.
“You don’t have to entertain me, just get better.”
“Kay.”
“I’ll come see you before work. Get some rest.”
The next day, when I get up I call the hospital directory and am informed that Shane has been moved to a regular room. Good news. For the first time in what seems like months, I roll over and go back to sleep.
That evening, Al and I eat in the hospital caf during my dinner break. She has sweetly brought me some real coffee from the Planet, for which I hug her.
So, how are we gonna tell her? Al says, looking up at me through her bangs.
Oh, *****, I dunno.”
“I don’t know either. Either way she’s gonna blame herself. That’s how Shane is.”
“Yeah.” That’s what I’m most afraid of. “Will you be there with me when I tell her?
Yeah. Of course.
So, we go to Shanes room. Its full of flowers, from us, from her clients. A new one has just arrived from Mom and Navi. She is watching TV, channel-surfing with her good hand.
Hey you, Alice says. Alice comes over and hugs Shane, kisses her forehead.
Hey Al.
You gave us a scare.
Yeah, so Ive been told.
I stand there by the window, smiling. Can you pull the curtains a little? Shane asks. Im getting major glare off this TV.
Sure, I say. I draw the curtains, and when I turn around, Alice and I exchange a look.
Find anything worth watching?
Nope. The beast of the beast.
Shane?” Alice asks nervously, rearranging her bag on her lap. “Um, Darah and I have to tell you something.
She looks at me with those big brown eyes, from me to Al, then back to me again. Whats wrong? I thought I was getting better.
No! No, honey, this is nothing to do with your medical condition-
They let Steve out, didnt they?
No, hes in jail,” Alice says. “He’s not getting out.”
“You’re safe, Hottie, promise.”
She looks again from Al to me. “Will someone just tell me what the ***** is going on?”
*****. Im just gonna come out and tell you, Shane. Cherie is dead. I seek her eyes out as I give the news. It’s a worse torture than watching her bleed, in a way. Her lips part, her eyes blink, first with shock, then hurt, then some other process I can’t quite figure out. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Dead? Oh… Oh my god, he killed her too… The sound of her voice hurts me.
No, Shane, Al says.
No? What – how did she die?
I glance at Al, and know that Im going to have to be the one to say it. She killed herself, sweetie. I feel like I’m going to be ill. I hate delivering this news to her. “I’m sorry.”
Shanes mouth moves, as if to say something, but she is silent. She stares into space, as if searching for an answer in the air. Then she looks at me. How?
Pills. Al says. A detail gleaned from the rumor mill, no doubt.
How do you know? She sounds, for all the depth in her voice, like a little girl.
The cops told us.
Why didnt you tell me sooner?
Because you were medically unstable. Al and I sit there staring at her as she stares into space. Storm roiling behind her eyes.
When?
*****. I know she doesnt miss a thing. The night we went out with mom and Navi. I bite my lip.
After we saw her in the restaurant?
This isnt your fault, Shane, Al asserts.
I see that hard look come over her face and it fills me with dread. Yes it is.
No, its not. I think she had a long history of depression and this wasnt her first attempt. She was an unhappy woman, Shane, in an unhappy marriage. This wasnt about you.
Yes it was. Its my fault. If Id been nicer, or hadnt pushed her away-
Look. Maybe her being in love with you was the catalyst. Look at me, Shane. ***** look at me. Open your eyes!
She does, and the look I see there pierces like a knife.
This is not your fault.
Get out.
Shane- Al starts, but I know before Shane even replies that her protesting will be for naught.
Get the ***** out, Alice! Both of you!
I stand up, look at Al, nod toward the door. Al doesnt seem to be used to this but I give her a look telling her to stay calm.
We love you, Shane. Remember that. I kiss the top of her head before she can push me away, then walk out the door.
I find her doctor in the hall. How did it go, he said.
I dunno. Shes blaming herself. She snapped at us to get out.
You dont think that shell try to hurt herself, do you?
Al and I look at each other. The terror of the thought renders me speechless.
No way, Al says. Even if she blames herself, she wont do that. She would never do that to us.
I come back in fifteen minutes later. I linger outside the room, and hear only quiet. I peek inside. She is sitting there like a statue.
Hey, I whisper. You want company?
I dont care, she says, only moving her lips, and her chest that draws the breath to speak the words.
I walk into the room, gingerly, as if she might strike me. She hasn’t shed a tear, but I can see them in her eyes. They glitter. How fucked up that they should make her ten times more beautiful. Horrible thought. I move aside the tray table, put the rails of the bed down, and sit next to her. The hospital bed gives under me, and her body moves limply to my side.
Gingerly, carefully, I pull her close to me, avoiding her shoulder. She moves like a rag doll, and I can feel that she’s shaking.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, staring at us in the reflection of the vanity mirror across the room.
Then she turns to me, presses her face into the hollow of my shoulder, and sobs. It’s an awful sound, but I’m relieved to be here when she loses it.
“I loved her so much. I didn’t want to. Tried not to. But she got me.”
Would she ever talk about me like that? The question burns in my stomach. I close my eyes, bite my lip and look away.
I move my hand up her back, feel the silky skin revealed by the hospital gown. Move my hand into the tangled hair at her nape, and I cradle her head in my hand, careful not to touch her shoulder.
I want to speak some words in a comforting voice, but there’s nothing I can say. I feel irrelevant and impotent to ease her pain, but there’s nothing I could do. I feel jealous and this is no time for petty jealousy, when she’s falling apart on my shoulder.
I hold her.
I feel so empty, and her ache becomes mine.