by Sadie Black
13
MONEKA
Walking into Kaila’s hospital room felt like entering a set for a movie about the future. I had no idea that so many wires and nodes and needles could be attached to a single human body. When I was sitting in the waiting room and imagining this moment, I imagined a frail, broken woman on a hospital bed. I had not imagined her being so tricked out. A small part of me wanted to give a primal scream and rip all of those wires away. That part of me didn’t think it looked very much like they were making her better. No, they looked like a prison. I wanted to free her.
“I know.” Kaila’s voice was labored. “Pretty cool huh? I look like Inspector Gadget.”
“That’s not funny Kaila.” I could barely choke the words out. All of the armor that I had piled on to hold my tears in was useless in her presence. Collapsing into the chair between her bed and the window, I allowed myself to sob unabashedly. For the first time since I got the news, I stopped pretending.
Kaila was silent for a while; she allowed me to crumble and rebuild. I started to realize that in her time of need, she was doing things for my benefit. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I was supposed to be caring for her. I reached for her hand and touched it lightly, hesitant.
“Does this hurt?”
“Luckily, that hand remains unbroken. Just be careful with the stitches.”
“Stitches?”
“Yep, broken glass everywhere. I’m a regular Frankenstein over here.”
I let lose a quick sob almost as if it were a hiccup.
“That’s not funny Kaila. This is serious. You shouldn’t joke.”
“Why because I’m all stitched up with all these electrical wires running into me? Seems like the perfect time to joke.”
“You almost…”
“Died? Yeah. I was there. I caught the whole show.”
“Will you stop it?” I started sobbing again. “Just stop it. This is serious. You almost died. You almost left mom and I alone. How can you be acting this way? You should be more upset.”
“Why, so I can spend the next moments I have until my next accident as miserable as you look?”
“Stop it!” I pounded my fists on my knees and buried my face in my hands. Why was she behaving like this?
I must have sobbed for a good minute. When I’d eventually calmed down, I gazed up at Kaila’s battered face. The skin was swollen around one eye, but there was no mistaking the pitiful look she was giving me.
“Look sweetie.”
Her expression told me that she was rearing up to impart some serious knowledge. Usually, Kaila donned that look when she wanted to lecture me about the less than stellar state of my love life. I couldn’t imagine what she thought she needed to lecture me on today. Safe driving maybe?
“I’m not being any way, and I’m not trying to upset you either.”
“Well…what are you trying to do them?” I kept my eyes trained our hands, still interlocked on the side of his hospital bed.
“I’m trying to explain that I went through something.”
“No shit.”
“I mean it. I had an experience. A revelation. And now I think I understand a little something more about life.”
“Oh God, Kaila. You’re not about to give me a ‘white light’ speech are you?”
“A what?”
“You know, where you start getting all gushy and religious and thinking that you need to change your ways before it’s too late?”
Kaila gave an audible laugh. At least, I think it was a laugh. It came out all raspy and wheezy. I cringed at the sound of it.
“No. I’m not about to start preaching psalms or whatever. Quite the opposite actually.” She paused for a moment. Kaila Hart, the terror of Provincetown, was at a loss for words. “Look. I realized today that accidents happen. They can happen at any time and to anyone no matter how much you practice being safe. I mean, I did nothing wrong today. Nothing. And I still found myself being rushed to an emergency room on a Friday morning. Now how is that fair?”
“The universe isn’t fair.”
“Exactly. The universe isn’t fair.” She tried my words on, saying them slowly, tasting them inside her mouth. “That’s what I’m saying. It could happen again. It could happen today, tomorrow, next week, right here in this hospital room…”
“Stop.”
“I’m sorry. But you get my point?”
“Not really.”
“Look, the point is, it could happen. And you know what I was thinking when I saw that car coming toward mine?”
“You should have TiVo’d the I Love Lucy marathon tonight?”
“Now who’s the one with the sense of humor?” Kaila paused. “Actually, now I am thinking that. There’s an I Love Lucy marathon tonight? Do you think this room gets cable?”
“Focus Kaila.”
“I’m kidding. Anyway, what I was thinking was that I shouldn’t have gone in to work last Monday afternoon.”
“You didn’t go into work. You had a date.”
“No. I lied. I took the day off, a whole vacation day, to help Mom and I went into work anyway. Not only that, but I stayed until almost eleven o’clock at night working on briefs and correspondences.”
“Why?”
“Don’t get all judgmental Ms. Restaurant Owner who can’t go more than twenty-four hours without working on something. Hell, last Thanksgiving you spent half the time you were at Mom's place talking to investors on the phone.”
“It was important.”
“It always is. But think about it this way.” Kaila twitched her good hand slightly upward, indicating that she wanted me to look her in the face. “What if that had been your last Thanksgiving? Hmmm? What if that was it because three months later you were t-boned by some crazy driver running a red? How would you feel knowing that that was the last Thanksgiving memory we would ever have of you?”
I started to cry again. “Stop it Kaila, I don’t want to think like that.”
“No one does sweetie. That’s the point. I realized that I wished I’d actually gone on a date. Or even stayed with you guys and moved boxes. I’ve been putting my work first for too long. Who knows how much time I’ll have left. It’s time to start living a little, don’t you think?”
I felt myself hardening a little to Kaila’s suggestion. Her near-death revelation was great and all, but what did it have to with me? I wasn’t the one lying to people about hot dates so I could immerse myself in a bunch of manuscripts. I was trying to do something incredibly challenging; I was trying to open my own restaurant. If that’s not a perfect excuse to get some extra work down, than what is? After all, how would I feel if that car was coming my way and I’d never lived out my greatest dream?
“What are you thinking?” Kaila could tell I’d thrown my guard up. She squeezed my hand a little. “Tell me.”
“I’m glad that you’ve had this realization about yourself Kaila. But I think I’m living my life just fine. I finally realized my dream today.”
“Oh damn. You’re right. How did it go this morning? Who is handling things now?”
“Relax. Everything is under control. Sonia has my back so I can be here with you.”
“Good. See, that’s what I’m talking about. A week ago, you would never have trusted Sonia to handle this alone. I’m not saying you can’t live out your dreams Moneka. I am proud of you. I’m just saying that you need to let other people help you. Let them take the wheel for a bit or make some decisions. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
I relaxed my shoulders a bit, remembering countless times that I had told sous-chefs, maintenance people, or even friends to just let me handle something. Once, I even took a paintbrush right out of the hands of one of Cole’s crew members and insisted that I do it myself. Of course, Cole then got on my case and made me give it back, but that was neither here nor there. Maybe Kaila had a point after all. This was not living a balanced life.
“It’s not just work either,” Kaila was
always able to read my mind. “You deny yourself other things too.”
Suddenly my guard was back up. I thought I knew what she was going to say and I definitely knew that I wasn’t going to like it.
“Let’s talk about Cole Saunders,” she smirked.
“Let’s not.”
“No, let’s. I’m injured and in a hospital bed. I’m pathetic and hurting. That means you have to do what I ask.”
“I hate you sometimes. You know that?”
“Seriously now. He’s a catch. He’s gorgeous. He has a good job. He’s a nice guy with a sense of humor. Only a crazy woman would turn him down.”
“Call me crazy I guess.”
“Why. Tell me why. What possible reason…”
“Because he’s my contractor. It’s not professional for me to get romantically involved with my contractor and you know it.”
“Good. Great. Now tell me the real reason.”
“How about the fact that Mom is living with his father now?”
“Oh come on, that doesn’t count.”
I just rolled my eyes. I was so very done with this conversation.
“Fine,” Kaila continued. “Then I’ll tell you. You’re afraid of getting close to someone. You don’t like the mess and drama and uncertainty of relationships. So you avoid them and immerse yourself in your work. By being such a successful chef, you are suddenly allowed to excuse yourself from forming real connections with people.”
“Nonsense.” I couldn’t believe she thought I didn’t form connections with people. What was I, some kind of automaton? “I am close with Mom. And Sonia. And you.”
“Girls and family. What you need is to be close with a guy. More specifically, you need to be close with Cole.”
“I can be close with guys.”
“When was the last time you went on a date?”
“Fine. I’ll give you the guy thing. I’ll work on that. But not with Cole Saunders. It's weird now. What if Mom marries his father? It's too messy. It's just too much.”
“Yes, with Cole Saunders. You like him and he likes you. There’s no better recipe for love.”
Cole was selfish, arrogant, and obnoxious. There were a million better recipes for love. I couldn’t believe that even in her hospital bed after a near death experience, Kaila thought it was a good time to drill me about my contractor. Had she no shame?
“I don’t like Cole that way. I’m not sure I like him at all.” As I said this, I tucked my hair behind my ears and lowered my eyes back to Kaila’s hand. Immediately, I heard a clucking noise.
“Liar,” she said. “I can always tell when you’re lying. You do that same stupid thing with your hair.”
“Fine.” I gave up. She won. She was the champion or whatever. I was too tired and upset to be fighting about Cole. Couldn’t she not be a part of my life for just ten minutes while I tried to spend time with my sister? “You caught me. I’m attracted to him. It doesn’t matter though.”
“Why n…”
“Because it won’t work,” I interrupted. “Sure, there’s a physical attraction. But our personalities are not compatible. It’ll never last.” Even as I was talking to Kaila, I felt like I was talking to myself. I could feel myself closing the doors on Cole for good.
“I have two lessons for you right now, my dear Moneka.” Kaila lay back and gazed up at the ceiling, losing herself in her new-found wisdom. “First, why does it have to ‘work’. If all you feel is a physical attraction, fine. Have sex. Enjoy yourself. If you feel something more, and I think you do, then explore that.”
“And the second lesson?”
“Stop trying to hide your feelings all the time. Maybe the reason Cole and you don’t work is because you won’t let him see the real you? Maybe, if you let yourself be genuine instead of wearing this armor all the time, you’d find that people you thought were mean and selfish are actually caring.” Kaila paused and looked over at me. “You need to stay true to yourself and you open up to the people in your life that you care about. Plain and simple. It’ll set you free Moneka.”
“He’s still my contractor. It doesn’t look…”
“Looks shmooks. Stop worrying about what other people will think. How can someone fearless enough to open their own restaurant be so fearful about what other people think. Fuck other people! You need to live your life for your own happiness, and you aren't fooling me. I know that, even though you fight it, Cole makes you happy. Happier than I've seen you in a long damned time.”
She was right. And now I found myself at a loss for excuses. I hated how she could strip me down like this, peeling away at my every defense. As if on cue, I felt my bottom lip start to quiver in a suspicious sort of way. The tears were on their way again. Sometimes I really disliked my sister. She smiled and squeezed my hand. Had we made a connection? Or had she just made me miserable?
I thought about my mother. How she's always lived her truth, usually to my horror. When we were children, she worked long hours and made little money during that time. She moved us constantly, trying to give us a stable home but also trying to keep us from falling into debt. She could have been a mean woman. She could have been lonely and bitter and mean.
But Louise Hart was the opposite. Despite my father’s unceremonious and unannounced exit in the early years of my existence, she had kept it together. Strong and brave and alone. I remembered fearing that she might blame me for the fact that there was no man in our lives. I remembered wishing I could be a better daughter, so that she could find her own brand of happiness. It took me a long time to realize that she didn’t want another man in her life. She kept them at a distance. She held up her armor in the same way that I did.
“I don’t want to be like Mom,” I suddenly said. My brief exclamation punctuated by several healthy sobs. “I don’t want to be lonely.”
Kaila rubbed the side of my hand with her thumb, a reassuring gesture. “Well, I have good news for you. Mom’s not lonely anymore. She has Francis now. You don’t have to be lonely either. I’ve seen the way Cole looks at you. Maybe you think he’s selfish or a player or whatever. But I’ve seen players. Maybe he doesn’t know it, but he has feelings for you.”
“Ha. Kaila Hart: relationship psychologist.”
“You know it.”
For the first time since I’d heard the unsavory news about Las Vegas, I found myself grateful for Francis. He made my mother happy. What more could you ask for? It was a strange stance for me to take though. A small, nagging bit of me refused to let myself be fully off my guard.
I gave Kaila’s hand a quick squeeze. As I stood, I bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Get some more sleep,” I said as I shouldered my purse and headed toward the door. “I’ll take your new world view under advisement. That’s the best I can offer under the circumstances.”
“That’s all I ask.” She smiled and gave me a painful purple wink.
14
COLE
I was still sitting like a supreme dumb-ass in the waiting area when Moneka emerged from her sister’s hospital bedroom. It felt like I’d finished the M&Ms an hour ago. I’d spent the rest of the time thumbing through magazines, trying to get interested in the articles. I still felt like people were staring at me. Somehow, I thought that looking interested in magazine articles would make me look like I was doing something important. Maybe people would just say “oh, he’s busy with important things” and leave me alone. Of course, nobody actually gave a shit. They were obviously too busy with whatever mess brought them here today.
Moneka was beautiful. Moneka was always beautiful. However, seeing her under stark hospital lighting, sweaty and tired, her hair doing nothing that made any kind of sense, I was struck with the reality of her beauty. It’s one thing to admire a chick whose spent the last two hours carefully painting her face and being swallowed by pantyhose the way a snake swallows it’s dinner. It’s entirely another thing to see someone here, at their worst, and wonder at how much like a painting they look. I wanted to rea
ch my hands out and trace the edges of her face, feel every crevice to make sure it was real.
As she came closer, it was clear that she’d been crying. If you’d asked me yesterday, I would have sworn that Moneka Hart didn’t know how to cry. I would have sworn she didn’t even have the tear ducts required to complete the job. I supposed it was cruel of me to make such an unfair observation. Her sister almost died today. I shouldn’t be such a jerk. The image was nonetheless jarring. Today, I stumbled in on a very private world.
“Ginger ale?” I asked, offering the can up as she returned to her seat across form me.
“No.” Moneka said, rubbing her temples with one hand before remembering her courtesies. “Thank you.”
“I’m not a huge fan myself.” I lied. I loved ginger ale. “It’s here if you change your mind. Bit warm now, I guess.” What a stupid thing to say. A bit warm now? What did she care how warm the ginger ale was?
Moneka was silent, her face slackened and worn. A tear betrayed her on its way down the edge of her nose. When it touched her lip, she started a bit and wiped it away. The damage was done however. Other tears soon followed. It was all she could do not to sob.
I scooted to the edge of my seat and reached across the divide between us to take her hands in mine. It seemed like such a long distance between her row and mine. I might as well have been trying to comfort her across the Grand Canyon. Didn’t hospitals think of these things? This was an ER waiting room after all. I made a mental note to add it to their suggestion box. Did hospitals have suggestion boxes? I would suggest that too.
When I took her hands, she didn’t really respond. She didn’t resist either. She just let them lay there in my hands. She let me squeeze them lightly. I guessed this was progress.
“It’s going to be alright,” I said in a hushed tone. What a stupid thing to say. Who says that? Everyone. That’s why it’s so stupid.