by Jill Patten
“In your apartment. Where else should you be?”
Last I remember, I was on the sidewalk shitfaced, while Phoebe made it loud and clear she wants nothing to do with me ever again.
Sitting up faster than I should, vertigo hits me strong, causing the room to spin. “Oh, hell,” I groan as I hold my head in between my hands as if it will keep me from feeling like I’m on a merry-go-round. I quickly close my eyes, but I still feel like I’m twirling around. “What time is it?”
“It’s only a little after midnight. When the hell did you start drinking?” The bed dips as she sits beside me.
I ignore her question. I’m not in the mood for a lecture.
“Here,” she says, nudging my shoulder.
Peeking through one eye, I see two pills resting in the palm of her hand and a bottle of water in the other.
Feeling as if I’m moving in slow motion, I release my head and take the pills and water. After I finish, I hand the empty bottle back to Molly and ease my way back under the covers.
“Better?” she asks.
“No, but it’ll do for now.”
“Okay, now tell me what happened to you tonight. I got this random text from you begging me not to do this. What am I doing you don’t want me to?” she asks as she tosses the bottle in the recycle bin. “I tried texting you back, but you never answered. Then I tried calling, but you ignored those too. Trina and I were out having a late dinner or I would’ve gotten here sooner.”
“That text wasn’t meant for you,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “The whole thing was a big fat fucking miscommunication.”
“Lance, stop talking in riddles and tell me who the hell you’re talking about.” She plops herself down on my bed and gives me a hard stare.
“Phoebe, dammit! Who the hell else would I be talking about?” Pain shoots from my eye to the center of my head, causing me to wince. Molly should’ve left me alone so I could sleep off the alcohol and pathetic sorrows. Talking about it only brings back memories I don’t want to think about any time soon.
Molly’s eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
“Go ahead and say it. I know you want to.”
“I’m so sorry, Lance. How mad was she?”
“She hates me. Called me every name possible and told me to stay away from her.”
Molly’s eyebrows furrow as she looks at me. Her concern for me shows on her face. “I don’t know what to say,” she says softly.
“What can you say? There’s nothing to say other than you were right all along.” I pause. “Why the hell did I tell her, Molly? I had no intentions of telling her shit until I could pay her back, but it shot out of my mouth anyway. Fuck!” I yell, taking my aggression out on the headboard by shoving my elbow back into the wooden frame. Not feeling satisfied, I do it a few more times until I feel the wood splinter beneath my skin.
“Destroying your bed isn’t going to solve anything. Stay true to your word and pay her back,” she says as if it’s that easy.
“And where the fuck am I supposed to get the money from, Molly?”
“You have the money. You’re just too stubborn to—”
“No!” I blurt, interrupting her from saying more than I want to hear. “Don’t even say it. You know that’s not an option.”
“It’s the only option you have.”
Roughly rubbing my fingers across my forehead, I try to ease the tension building up. I’m on the verge of losing my shit again.
“I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
“Yeah, let’s just make sure you don’t solve it by stealing from someone else. This should be a lesson learned. Get your shit together, Lance.”
“Molly, don’t judge. You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough to know stealing is illegal. I know enough to know that with all the money you’ve taken, you should be living a hell of a lot better off than what you do,” she says, looking around at the shithole I live in. It’s a shithole to her, but to me it’s home, and I’m one hundred percent content with it. “What more is there to know?” She stands up and walks over to stop at the foot of my bed.
Knowing she’ll never understand my reasons unless I tell her, I finally fill her in. “I don’t keep the money. I give it away.” I pause, giving her time to let things sink in. “And I don’t mean give it away to whoever, wherever. I give it to people in need—a children’s home to be exact.”
Her mouth slightly drops open and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh my God, Lance, I had no idea.” Her voice comes out in a whisper. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why would you keep something like that a secret?”
“It’s nothing I ever meant to keep as a secret. It’s just something I do. I’m not exactly proud of it.”
“But why steal? You have your own money to give, so why take something that’s not yours?”
“You know why,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her. “And I don’t have shit. I don’t want a fucking thing either of them has.”
“God, you’re so damn stubborn. You’ve got to get over your hatred for the family you were born into. Not everybody is like Mom and Dad.”
Not wanting to revisit the same sore subject we’ve fought about over and over, I pull my covers up to my neck and settle onto my pillow. “My head feels like it’s about to explode. I’d like to be left alone if you don’t mind. I need to sleep off the alcohol before going into work tomorrow morning.” That’s her cue to leave me alone. I’m over this conversation.
Her footsteps fall lightly across the linoleum floor. “I wish I had some helpful advice to offer you, but anything I say is going to come out the wrong way. Just know I’m here for you if you need me.” The door opens, and then the latch clicks in place after she closes it.
After tossing and turning for what seems like most of the night, I finally open my eyes and let my mind get lost in all the thoughts running through it. Phoebe leaves in the next several hours and there’s not a damn thing I can do to fix my fuck up before she goes home.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and go straight to her name in my messages. Sure enough, I see where she never received my last text. God, why did I immediately think the worst and go on a drinking binge? If only I’d stayed clear-headed, none of this would have ever happened. My sober tongue would never betray me.
My temper ignites, and I restrain the urge to destroy my apartment.
With nothing left to lose, I type up one more text for her.
Me: For what it’s worth, I had one hell of a time with you in the little bit of time we had. Everything I said, I meant it. You might not know it, but you honestly changed my life—for the better, of course. In a different time under different circumstances, we could be something special. I’m sure you disagree with everything I’ve said, and you have that right to, but I know in my heart it’s the truth. Thank you for sharing yourself with me. There will never be another like you. xoxo
I take a deep breath then hit send on the exhale. What more do I have to lose?
If I remember correctly, their flight takes off somewhere around nine in the morning, so I’m guessing she’ll be up in a couple of hours to head out to the airport. I don’t expect any response, but one can always hope.
Feeling as if a huge load has just been lifted off my chest, I give sleep one more chance. Even if it is for only about four hours.
PHOEBE
Six days ago, I stepped off the plane and entered a temporary world. It started off on shaky ground but in less than twenty-four hours, it took a turn for the better. I made a new friend, who turned into a compassionate and caring lover. For a very short period of time we made one of the best memories of my life. And if anyone had asked me, at that time, how my vacation was, I would’ve told them it sat at the top of my list of best vacations ever.
Six days later after stepping off the plane, I’m now ready to board another. I’m going home. My temporary life has come to an end, and I’m happy it’s here. The events from the last full day of fantasyland will
now go down in history as the worst vacation of my life. The unexpected bond I formed had the potential to turn into a lifetime friendship.
But he ruined it.
He lied.
There’s no room for liars in my life.
My life is already eaten up with negativity. I don’t have time for more. Fighting for that tiny window of opportunity is a constant struggle. There’s not enough strength in me to fight for someone who isn’t willing to battle for us.
As I stare out the tiny oval window at the clear blue skies, I’m reminded once again of the beautiful, blue-eyed, blond-haired surfer boy who came close to cracking the shell around my heart. In another world, under different circumstances, he could’ve stolen my heart. Instead, he chose to steal my money.
I slide the cream shade down, blocking everything Blue from my life.
Tiffanny taps me on the shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired.” And I am. I faded in and out of sleep last night. The events from this past week played through my head all night long. I played the ‘what if’ game while Kristy and Tiffanny slept peacefully.
Resting my head between the cushioned seat and hard interior of the plane, I close my eyes and pray for sleep.
“Phoebe,” I faintly hear my name.
“Phoebe, wake up.” My eyes pop open, and I’m in that short phase of not being able to comprehend where I’m at or what’s going on. As soon as Tiffanny comes into sight, I remember we’re on a plane on our way home.
Everyone around us is shuffling from their seats and opening up the overhead compartments to dig out their most prized possessions.
“Have we landed already?” I ask, still in a haze.
“Yes. I’ve been trying to wake you up ever since we started to descend. You were sleeping like the dead over there,” Tiffanny says.
Kristy already has herself wedged in line, leaving room for Tiffanny and myself to walk into the aisle.
Looking under the seat in front of me and my vacant chair, I check to make sure I haven’t left anything behind. My money and happiness have already been lost. In time, I’ll get them back, but until then I’m going to hold onto everything else I value as tight as possible.
Tiffanny and Kristy keep conversations to a minimum amongst themselves. They give me space, and I silently thank them. When we get to the baggage claim, I pull my phone out and see I have several texts messages from my mom, Molly, and Blue. I completely forgot Molly and I had exchanged numbers that first day. After losing my top, she told me to keep her number on hand in case I ran into any other douchebags while there. Turns out the number one douchebag on the beach is her brother.
Not having the courage to read Blue’s text, I skip it and read my mom’s first. After replying to tell her we’ve landed and are on our way home, I open up the text from Molly.
Molly: Hey, chick, I’m bummed we didn’t get to say a proper goodbye. It was great meeting you. Too bad we didn’t get to hang out more. Maybe another time in the future. Stay in touch.
A rush of relief flows from my airways. I knew for sure she would mention her jackass brother. Much to my satisfaction, she keeps it neutral. She’s way cooler than I thought. It is a damn shame we didn’t pal around more. Just because her blood is a fucktard doesn’t mean that piece of DNA runs through her veins, too. I wonder if she knows about the stupid stunt her brother pulled with me. If she does, she’ll probably kick his ass for me.
Me: Hey, girl, sorry I left without saying bye. I want to thank you again for coming to my rescue. You’re a lifesaver. Haha! No pun intended. And, yes, let’s definitely keep in touch.
“What’s got you smiling?” Tiffanny asks, knocking me out of my personal little world.
Not realizing it, I stop what I’m doing for a second to notice my lips are turned up at the corners. I shrug. “Nothing, just a cute video of puppies playing.” I don’t want to tell her I’m texting with Molly. It’s not that I think she and Kristy will be jealous. Well, maybe they will, but I don’t want to hear any snide comments they might have. Take that back, I know they’ll have some smartass remarks to make.
She gives me a sideways glance. “Well, whatever it is, it’s nice to see your spirits perking up.”
Tiffanny’s not stupid. She knows I’m bullshitting her, but she knows me well enough to play along.
We grab our luggage and drudge along to Kristy’s car. The air is crisp and cold, and we’re quickly reminded we’re no longer miles away basking in the hot sun. Oh how I miss the feel of warm sand sliding between my toes and bright rays prickling over my skin.
Kristy breaks out in song. “Back to life, back to reality.” It doesn’t take long for all three of us to go at it hard old school style. We dance around, singing at the top of our lungs in the parking garage. Curious eyes watch us as if we’ve lost our minds, but we don’t care. Soul II Soul would be so proud of our rendition.
My sullen mood shifts by the time I get home. I haven’t thought about a certain someone for the last hour and it feels good.
I nearly fall through the door when I tug my over packed suitcase inside with me. “Mom, Dad, I’m home,” I yell.
Mom waltzes around the corner from the kitchen. “Welcome back.” She greets me with a hug and kiss on the cheek. “So, how was it? How was the weather? Did you have a good time?” she asks, walking back into the kitchen.
I follow behind her and fill her in on my week while she preps dinner in the Crock-Pot. For the most part, I leave Blue out of the story. He’s no longer a person of interest in my life, and there’s no point in getting my mother angry or excited over it. I do tell her about Molly, though.
Reluctantly, I tell her about my unexpected visit to the ER. I play it down so she doesn’t freak out and call my doctor. “Well, it’s good you have an appointment Monday morning. Make sure you let them know so they can check everything out thoroughly. You know how the ER is, they halfway check you over,” she rambles on, “and heaven forbid you need them to take an X-ray or scan of anything life-threatening. Those machines are so outdated.”
Shit, I forgot about my appointment. By this point I block her out.
After she finishes, I cut her off so she doesn’t jump back on her soapbox. “I know, Mom, I will.” It annoys me how she continues to treat me like I’m an incompetent child. I’ve dealt with my condition long enough to know the ins and outs of it.
Damn, when will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut? I tell her when I have an episode because I feel like she’s entitled to know what’s going on with my health. I don’t want to blindside her if things were to ever take a drastic plunge.
Over the weekend, I don’t see Tiff or Kristy since they’re back on campus and I’m back home, but they do text me a few times to check up on me. I know everyone means well, but sometimes I get sick and tired of my loved ones treating me like I’m some kind of porcelain doll. I’m not going to break, dammit. On the flip side, Molly texted me not long after I answered hers, and she kept our convos neutral. Although, I did make her promise to not talk about Blue. I’m no idiot; I saw how close they are. She knows shit went down between us. I also thanked her for not bringing any of it up. She knows he’s in the wrong. Otherwise she would have defended him.
Monday morning rolls around and I’m already starting back my classes by skipping the first one. Dr. Zilberschlag, or as most call him, Dr. Z, has his office less than a mile from campus, so luckily I’ll be able to make the rest of my classes. Last year I failed an entire semester due to my health, so this year I’m more willing than ever to make up for lost time.
My mother worries that I’m putting too much stress on my fragile body, as she calls it, but besides the minor hiccup in Florida, I feel the best I’ve felt in over a year.
Dr. Z’s nurse calls my name with the amount of enthusiasm you’d find from a bunch of dead lice. I know Mondays are equivalent to pulling teeth without any Novocain, but geez, she needs a dose of cheer-the-fuck-up. Sick people com
e in here every day with life-threatening ailments. The last thing they need is a Debbie Downer to push them over the ledge.
Miss Pessimist asks me the same mundane questions, and I give her the same answers as I always do. This time, though, I tell her about when I passed out. She taps on her little laptop without ever replying to anything I say. I watch her as she looks over what is probably my life history and I notice the wrinkles around her mouth and the corner of her eyes. They’re laugh lines. At some point in her life she was happy, and I can’t help to feel sorry for her. Somewhere along the way, she’s faced something tragic. Why else would she walk around here day in and day out like she hates life?
“The doctor will be in shortly,” she says with the same dull voice she always uses.
While I sit there waiting for Dr. Z, I can’t stop thinking about the nurse. When I first thought about how she’s most likely faced sadness at some point in her life, I felt sorry for her. Now as I break it down and analyze it to pieces, I become infuriated at her selfishness. How dare she cut patients off at the knees when she doesn’t live with the fact of wondering if she’ll be around a year from now?
Most people in here are the elderly, and even though they might be content with the life they’ve lived, I’m sure they’d still like to be around to enjoy milestones with their children or grandchildren. Her mood has turned my happy-go-lucky frame of mind sour. Bitch.
“What’s the frown for, Phoebe?” Dr. Z asks, catching me off guard.
Deciding to be bold, I tell him, “Your nurse, to be honest.”
He eyes me and nods, so I take it as my green light to continue.
“From the day she became your nurse, she walks around here like she either hates her job or she just hates life in general.”
He smiles as if what I’m saying is comical.
“What are you smiling about?”
He pulls away from his laptop and stands in front of me. “I get that a lot.”
Okay, now he has me confused. “Get what?”
“Nancy is the most tender-hearted woman you’ll ever meet.”
Okay, now I’m really confused. “Who’s Nancy?”