When I Was Jane

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When I Was Jane Page 9

by Theresa Mieczkowski


  Thomas holds it back up to my mouth. “Give it another go, Audrey.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I say.

  “I already told you I’m not giving in to this bullshit of calling you Jane. It isn’t healthy. I don’t like it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t, that’s why. You need to at least try to return to who you were.”

  I don’t answer him. There’s no point, and I have more important things I want to discuss. “Did you know that on the night of my accident Jason was at another hospital treating a cardiac patient of his?”

  “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”

  “I thought you told me you couldn’t find him. That he was checking on his parents’ old house upstate.”

  Thomas takes a sip of his beer. “I think he checked in on the house because he was up that way anyway. Honestly, that night was a blur and I don’t remember every detail. Does it really matter where he was?”

  “To me it does. If I’m expected to live with him, I should be able to trust the things he tells me.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “No. On several fronts.”

  “All I know is that he checked in on the house and was visiting a patient,” he says.

  “He checked in on a house while one of his patients was having a mild stroke because he happened to be in the area? Or did he check in on the house after he got the call that his wife was in a life threatening car accident and was on his way home?”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Neither scenario looks good for him,” I say. “Either he’s a bad doctor or a bad husband. Which is it?”

  Thomas sneers. “I don’t know what’s going on inside your brain, but you’re way off.”

  “Let me tell you what I think. I think he was upstate, possibly at his parents’ house, and probably with one of the nurses from the hospital. You told me that when you found him, he had to drive all the way home to get to me in time. Only neither of you realized what the other had said, and now both stories can’t be true. Jason couldn’t have been tending to a patient and checking on a house upstate. Unless he was doing it while either his patient's life was in danger or mine was."

  Thomas sits back on the couch and stares at me. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you. You have a head injury. Something in there is scrambled, and now you’re suspicious of someone who doesn’t deserve it. How about instead of inventing scenarios to entertain yourself, you focus your energy on getting better and reclaiming your old life?”

  “Well can you blame me for being suspicious? Ever since I tumbled down this rabbit hole otherwise known as the life of Audrey Gilbert, I don’t know which way is up, and I certainly don’t know who to trust.”

  Thomas is silent for a moment. I can see in his face how my words have wounded him. “You know what?” he says. “Part of being a friend is helping someone even when they don’t want it. It’s loving and supporting them no matter how many mistakes they make because you know that they can and will do better. I’ll do that for you because I’m your friend.” He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “But you need to know you’re making a huge mistake right now.”

  “Or you are,” I say quietly. “I’m not rejecting your friendship, Thomas. I know you believe everything you’re saying. But you’re forgetting about women’s intuition, and mine is telling me something isn’t right with that husband of mine up there. So before you start thinking I’m the problem, just make sure you can fully trust everything Jason has been telling you.”

  Thomas sits back and scratches the side of his face. “He has been under a lot of stress lately. But you have to consider everything he’s been through and that he’s afraid he could still lose his wife after all. It’s not easy for him.”

  “I know. But how were things between them before the crash?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “You mean how were things between the two of you? That’s not for me to say.”

  “Then you just told me what I needed to know. If things were fine, you would’ve said so.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth, Audrey. Before the accident you knew us, so your intuition was usually dead on. Now you don’t have the facts or the faith in us to back up your hunches, so you shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

  “Something’s not right, and I can’t trust that man until I know what it is. But I’d like to trust you.”

  Thomas tilts his head and smiles. “You can trust me,” he says, linking my hand with his.

  I’m completely disarmed but manage to hide it. “That was a pretty nice speech you gave before about what it means to be a friend.”

  “Well I can’t take credit; I was quoting someone.”

  “Who?”

  He arches an eyebrow. “You, of course.”

  After Daisy’s performance, Thomas and Jason bring her up to bed. After having her father to herself for so long, it’s going to be hard for her when he returns to his long shifts at the hospital.

  Dottie helps me to the bathroom and waits outside the door while I get ready for bed. I look at my reflection in the mirror. My eye is healing, and most of the redness has faded. The swelling on my face has gone down considerably, and some hair has even started to grow back where it was shaved over my ear. I may eventually think of us as pretty if I can ever forgive her for sticking me in this situation.

  “What was going on with you, Audrey?” I ask into the mirror.

  She looks back at me silently.

  I narrow my eyes, and she does the same.

  “You do realize we’re completely insane,” I say to my poor reflection since she can’t think for herself.

  Dottie calls through the door. “What was that, Mrs. Gilbert?”

  “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  I brush my teeth and dab some of the cream Jason’s aunt sent me under my eyes. “La Mer…Well let’s see if it works on these bags of mine.”

  “Who?” Dottie asks.

  I turn off the bathroom fan so she might recognize when I’m talking to myself and stop yelling at me through the door. As soon as I do, I hear Thomas and Jason talking through the ceiling vent. I imagine they must be in the food pantry directly above me.

  “I didn’t ask you to lie for me,” I hear Jason say angrily.

  “What did you want me to say? I didn’t know you were gonna tell her you were at another hospital.”

  “Why did you tell her anything at all?”

  “Are you kidding me? It was right after she woke up. We were talking about how I watched her come in on a goddamn stretcher and how you drove all that way in agony, knowing she may not make it.”

  “Christ, Thomas. Why would you tell her that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  So Thomas is just as much in the dark as I am. Their voices lower to a whisper, and I strain to listen for more. If it weren’t for my cast, I’d climb up on the vanity to put my ear to the vent.

  “She made a good point, though, Jay. Did you stop at the house on the way to see a critical patient or on the way home when you thought she was dying?”

  “Neither.”

  I hear a huge thump.

  “Jesus, you’re gonna put a hole in the wall,” Thomas says. “What the hell is going on? I’m telling you, Audrey knows something isn’t right. She doesn’t trust you.”

  “No kidding.”

  “You know what? I don’t even want to know what it is. That way I don’t have to lie to her, too. Just tell me if you’re in trouble.”

  “Not yet,” Jason says.

  “How bad are we talking?”

  “Pretty bad.”

  Dottie knocks loudly on the bathroom door. “Mrs. Gilbert, you OK in there?”

  “Yes. I’ll be right out,” I say quietly, listening for more. Their conversation abruptly stops and is replaced by the sound of Jason’s footsteps thumping down the stairs. I quickly flip on the bathroom fan.

  Dottie knocks again. “Dr. Gilbert is here to say goodnight.”


  I open the door slowly and smile. “What? I was just washing my face. Sorry, I can’t hear anything with this fan on in here.”

  Jason stands behind Dottie and peers in at the vent. “I just wanted to check in on you and say goodnight. If you’re not awake tomorrow when I leave for the hospital, I won’t see you till next Tuesday.”

  “OK, goodnight, Jason. See you next week,” I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dottie slink away to give us privacy.

  He surveys the cotton night slip his mother bought for me to wear while I have the cast on my leg. “You look really beautiful. It’s going to be hard to be away all week. You sure you’re OK with me going back to work? I could stay…”

  “No, you should go.” I try not to sound too eager. “We need to get back on schedule so I can see what normal life is like, right?”

  “Right.” His eyes settle on the scar that stretches across my chest under my collar bone. “One day soon everything’s going to clear up, and this will all be nothing but a bad memory.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Can I hug you?”

  “Of course,” I say, only because I can’t think of a reason to say no.

  He steps closer and hesitantly puts his arms around me. I manage to hug him back, even though I really don’t want to. He pulls me in so forcefully my breath catches. I try to squirm from his grasp, but he holds me tighter.

  “I know you think I’m not to be trusted, Jane,” he whispers, “but you’re very, very wrong. I’m only trying to protect the best interests of my family. Remember that.” He kisses me on the cheek and steps away. “I’ll see you in a week. I hope you’re a little more…healed by then.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” I whisper.

  “I’ll grow to love you, Jane. In so many ways I already do. And you’ll grow to love me, too.” He turns and walks out, leaving me alone and trembling.

  When Dottie returns, she takes one look at me and sucks in her breath. “We gotta get you into that bed, Mrs. Gilbert. You’re shakin’ like a leaf.” She supports my weight across the room and tucks me in, piling the blankets on top of me.

  I don’t know how to tell her that I’m not the least bit cold, and no amount of blankets will be enough to melt the ice between Jason and me.

  ~12~

  I’m in a bathroom. I have no idea whose it is or how I got here. Large, white ceramic tiles stretch out endlessly beneath a vintage clawfoot tub. As the water runs, thick clouds of steam rise slowly towards a giant stained glass skylight in the shape of a daisy. A boiling tea kettle screams in the distance, echoing off the walls. But it isn’t a kettle, it’s a woman. Her screams get louder and louder. I feel something flowing under my feet and strain to see if the tub is running over, but the drain stopper hangs on its chain by the faucet. I glance down and see that it isn’t water, but blood. It spreads in a thick pool across the floor, slowly covering every tile until there’s no white left. Only then do I realize that I’m the one screaming.

  “Wake up, Mrs. Gilbert.” Dottie shakes me by the shoulders. “It’s just a dream. You’re OK. Take a deep breath.” She places a mask over my nose and mouth and flips on the oxygen machine, then picks up her phone and begins to text someone.

  I grasp frantically, trying to wrestle the phone away from her.

  She yanks it back. “It was just a dream. You gotta breathe for me, honey.”

  Behind her, Thomas appears rubbing his eyes.

  “Third time this week, Dr. Charles. Sorry to wake you, but you said to let you know if it happened again,” Dottie says.

  Thomas looks down at me. “Audrey, listen, you have to calm down. You were having a nightmare again.”

  Desperate to get away, I push his arm off mine and struggle to get out of the bed. Dottie restrains me while Thomas holds the mask over my face. I flail my legs and claw at their hands, trying to free myself.

  He touches my cheek. “It’s me. Thomas. I’m not going to hurt you. Stop holding your breath.”

  I hadn’t realized I was doing that. I take a deep breath and feel my chest open up immediately.

  “Atta girl,” Dottie says.

  Thomas wipes the tears from my face and lays a damp washcloth over my forehead. “It’s OK, we’ve got you. You’re home, Audrey. It wasn’t real.”

  I try to keep myself from shaking, but that only makes it worse.

  He turns to Dottie. “I’ve got this under control. You can head to bed.”

  He stands above me listening to my lungs with his stethoscope while I take in air from the mask. “If we can’t get this lung under control, we’ll have to admit you again. I’m calling Jason and Patel in the morning.”

  I cover his hand with mine and shake my head, feeling the tears sting my eyes.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” he says. “Jason’s been gone for four days, and you’ve had nightmares for three of them. He needs to be back here with you.”

  I turn away from him. I haven’t spoken to Thomas about anything significant since the night I heard him talking with Jason through the vent. We’ve eaten together a few times, and he’s started reading me Sense and Sensibility from Audrey’s book collection, but I haven’t confided in him about anything important—not that I have anything important to say.

  “Try to get some sleep now,” he says.

  I put my arm out to stop him. “Don’t go.”

  “OK…” He rubs the side of his face as though he’s considering it. “I’ll take the couch.”

  “No, please stay with me,” I say, reaching out for him. “I’m so scared.”

  “C’mon, Audrey. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It was just a dream.” Thomas lies down on the bed next to me, and I lean my head on his chest and cry into his t-shirt.

  “Aw, man…not my lucky Bulls shirt. Female tears will jinx us for the entire season.”

  I want to laugh but I can’t. Instead I just breathe in the scent of him and concentrate on that to stop the shaking. He smells really good, like soap and saddle leather.

  “Jesus. You have to calm down.” He tightens his grip around me. “Was the dream about the accident?”

  I wish I knew.

  “Don’t go, Thomas. Don’t leave me here, OK?” I say, catching quick breaths as the last of my tears dry.

  “I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.”

  “I mean you need to stay in the house with us. Don’t go back to your house—even after he comes home, OK?”

  “You can’t honestly tell me you’re afraid of Jason,” he says.

  I can’t answer him. I don’t know what to say. Soon I hear his rhythmic breathing and feel myself drift into sleep again, comforted only by the awareness that he isn’t going anywhere.

  Vivienne has taken Daisy for a few days in case my breathing condition puts me back in the hospital. She’s going to teach her to make crepes, which Daisy’s thrilled about. I’m selfishly relieved that she’ll be gone for a while. I need a break from pretending to be Audrey.

  Thomas shows up with fish tacos from his favorite local food truck and entertains Dottie and me with stories of his surfing adventures in Baja. He mentions that Dr. Patel is aware of the stress being put on my lung from the nighttime screaming, but aside from that, he barely looks at me.

  Later that night, Thomas returns to check on me after Dottie has gone to her room. “Are you OK?” he whispers, sitting on the side of my bed. “There’s a storm rolling in.”

  I keep my back to him. “I will be if you stay with me.”

  He climbs into the bed. “I don’t like knowing that you’re down here terrified, but I can’t make a habit of this.”

  “Because you’re worried about Jason?”

  He lies behind me and drapes his arm over my stomach. “I’m not half as worried about Jason as I am about myself. What you don’t understand is that Jason would want me to be here taking care of you in his place. I’m like a brother to him. He trusts me with his life, and rightfully so.”

  I don’t know why, but hearing him say
that disappoints me. We lie in the darkness, listening to the rain coming down outside. I’ve so needed to feel someone’s arms around me. I gather my hair up on top of my head so his face is right up against my neck, and I find his hand to intertwine my fingers with his.

  “Thank you, Thomas.”

  “I must be out of my goddamn mind,” he whispers into the darkness.

  Dottie and I eat breakfast on our stone patio surrounded by limelight hydrangeas and bright patches of salvia. “You must have some green thumb, Mrs. Gilbert,” she says through a mouthful of blueberry crepes, a special delivery from my in-laws to show how well Daisy is doing with Vivienne’s cooking lessons.

  “I guess so. I don’t remember doing any of it, but the flowers are beautiful. I wish I could plant something.”

  “Don’t you go gettin’ any ideas. It’s gonna be a long time before Dr. Gilbert lets you carry a purse, let alone a wheelbarrow.” She nods towards one leaning upside down against a small garden shed, still untouched from the day before the accident.

  Audrey had apparently been adding to the large garden that wraps around the foundation patio. Several holes sit unfilled, waiting for the flowers she was going to plant. I wonder what Audrey was feeling that day. I wonder where she was going when she had the accident or where she was coming from. I wonder so many things about her these days.

  “Dr. Gilbert is comin’ home today,” Dottie says, flashing me a wide smile. She couldn’t be more relieved. The woman nearly had a heart attack after she saw Thomas in bed with me one morning, the two of us lying like spoons in the silver drawer, as she put it. Oh, Lordy was all she said before Thomas jumped up, babbling about me having another bad dream, and smacked his head on the door frame on the way out. If he hadn’t acted so guilty she may not have considered it again, but he could barely look at either one of us after that and went back to work at the hospital without as much as a goodbye.

  Dottie pours herself more coffee. “You need to start workin’ on this marriage of yours. No more of this snuggly time with Dr. Charles and bein’ all suspicious of Dr. Gilbert. You gotta try to get back to the way things were.”

 

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