by Lisa Shelby
“Oh my God, he has to be so upset right now. I need to get back to him. He needs me, Mick.”
“Em, he doesn’t want any visitors.”
“I heard you, but that doesn’t mean me.” I say incredulously.
Mick just stands there staring at me and I finally figure it out.
“Mick, does it mean me?”
Hesitantly, he nods his head to confirm that I too am not wanted in Jonathan’s room.
“I don’t understand, Mick. Just two hours ago we finally said ‘I love you’ to each other and now he doesn’t want to see me?”
“It’s not you, he doesn’t want to see anybody. Devon is the only person he’ll let in, and he’s in there with him now. He gave strict instructions to the hospital staff and to the officer standing watch outside his room. He’s been through a lot. He’s coming to terms with the fact that Bob died when he was supposed to be his back-up. That would be hard for any of us to deal with. It’s not you, sweetie.”
I can’t believe he doesn’t want to see me. I hear what Mick is saying, and I appreciate that he’s upset and suffering, but I want to help him through this. I want to comfort him and make sure he knows it’s not his fault. I want to be there for him when he needs me most.
The high I was feeling when I walked through the front doors of the hospital has vanished, and I feel like my heart is being torn in two.
I need to pull myself together. Time. I just need to give him some time. I can do that. I’ll wait as long as he needs me to. With this mantra running through my head, I thank Mick, give him a hug and return to the group that is still gathered to support Jonathan. I give my hellos and thank yous for their support and find an open chair where I sit and wait with everybody else.
About an hour later Devon comes out of the room and addresses the group.
“Hey everybody. Um…so, J says he still doesn’t really want visitors right now. He knows you’re all out here, and he really appreciates it, but he wants everybody to go home, get some rest and get back to your lives. Again, he really appreciates you all being here, but he just isn’t up for visitors right now.”
Most leave but Devon, Mick, Chaplin Tom and I stick around.
“Devon, thank you so much for being there for him. He’s so lucky to have a friend like you,” I say as I give Devon a hug and then turn to head towards Jonathan’s room. Devon grabs me by the wrist to stop me and says, “I’m sorry, PDX, but J really doesn’t want any visitors. I am so sorry. It kills me to say it, but he doesn’t want to see you right now.”
He can see the tears in my eyes before they start to fall and pulls me into a strong hug. “He feels like this is Shell all over again, and isn’t doing so well. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. It’s a lot for him to handle, and he has a lot of guilt right now. He’s been through so much already, and I think this might be a bit of a setback for him.”
I wait all day.
I’ve been told more than once by the nursing staff that he still doesn’t want to see me, but I stay strong and stay there because when he’s ready to see me I want to be here.
I have somehow fallen asleep on the miserable bench in the waiting room when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Nurse Jackson is back and she gives me a sweet smile before she says, “Darlin’, it’s after visiting hours and he still doesn’t want to see anybody. I am so sorry, but you really need to go home and get some rest.”
I can’t believe the entire day has gone by and he still doesn’t want to see me. I really do need to get home to Ireland and give my mom a break for a bit, but leaving feels so wrong. I won’t quit on him though. I’ve waited five years to tell him that I love him. I am not going to give up now that we’re back together where we both know we belong.
“How’s he doin’, Nurse Jackson?” I ask as I stretch my aching neck.
“He’ll be okay, Miss Emily but he needs to get some rest and so do you.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll go. Will you please tell him I was here and that I’ll be back in the morning?”
“I sure will. You get some sleep and I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks.”
Against everything in me that’s telling me to stay I get up, grab my purse and reluctantly head to the elevators. I sit in my car for several minutes just staring up at the building that the love of my life is in, wondering how the hell I can help him if he won’t let me in. I hope he knows that I’m not quitting on him, and I won’t let him quit on me either. I will come back every day until he lets me into that damn room.
It’s now noon on day four after Jonathan’s shooting and I’m still sitting in the waiting room. I’m still texting him every day and he’s still not returning my texts. He still won’t let anybody but Devon in to see him. This morning when I arrived and the nurses wouldn’t let me in, I took up my spot in the waiting room and began my wait. Alex came and sat with me for a while but then had to leave for work. Not too long after, Devon came out of Jonathan’s room looking horrible.
He plops down in the seat next to me and weakly offers up. “Hey PDX.”
“Hey Devon. You okay?”
“I don’t know, Em. I’m worried about our boy, and I don’t know what to do to get him through this. I am at a complete loss.” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and hangs his head looking completely overwhelmed. “I know that you are the thing that will snap him out of it. You’re his missing piece, Emily. You make him whole. I know that sounds crazy because it hasn’t been that long that you guys have been back in each other’s lives, but I saw it. I saw the old J returning. You were bringing him back to life. He’s been in love with you for years. He finally has you and he’s pushing you away. If I could just get you in that room. Emily, I know you’re what he needs.”
“I just don’t understand, Devon. He told me he loved me and he wanted to shout it out to the world that I was his. I leave for two hours and now he won’t let me be there for him. I know he’s going through a lot, but I just don’t get why I can’t be there for him.” I say, hoping I don’t sound as desperate as I feel.
Devon sits back up in his seat and rubs his face with his hands. After a beat, he puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in to his side. “I know it’s confusing. He’s just going through a lot. Losing Bob is bringing back all of the guilt, loss, and lack of feeling in control that he felt when we lost Matt, and his mom for that matter. He’s blaming himself for all of it. I don’t want to speak too much for him, so I will leave it at that, but just know it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it all. Survivor’s guilt is a real thing and I have seen him go through it before. He’ll get through it. He just needs us to be patient and not to give up on him.”
“Devon, thanks again for everything. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here to update me. You have to be exhausted and overwhelmed. I wish I could take some of that off of you. If there’s anything I can do just let me know.” I look him in the eye and speak with conviction. “Devon, I promise you that I won’t give up on him.”
“I know you won’t, girl, and yes I am tired but I’m doin’ fine. Better than our boy in there.” He says as he stands and lifts his arms over his head and stretches.
“Listen, I have to go to work for a while. I’ll call the Fanuas on my way and update them. I’ll come back tonight. You should probably head home, Emily. He knows you’re out here and he feels really bad about that. He knows that you aren’t with Ireland if you’re here.”
Standing, I give him a hug. “Thanks, but I’ll stay…in case he changes his mind. Between school, mom, Cami, Alex and Mick, Ireland is covered. I’ll just stay a little while longer.”
After Devon takes his leave, I head to the vending machine down the hall and grab some reinforcements to get me through the day. I return to what I now think of as my chair in the waiting room. I pull my Kindle out of my purse—to start up a new trashy romance novel to take my mind off of Jonathan just down the hall. He’s so close
, but feels a million miles away right now.
As I pull out my Kindle, out falls the picture that Ireland made for him. I had forgotten all about it. Looking at the picture of Frank, Frances, Jonathan, Ireland and myself at the park, I can’t help but tear up over the hopes and dreams that I feel wrapped up in this picture. Hopefully, Ireland will remind him that he has more to fight for this time around. It will also remind him that I’m out here waiting for him, and that I’m ready to fight alongside him whenever he’s ready.
I walk over to Tommy a.k.a. Officer Buford who I’ve known most of my life, and he takes the picture. His expression is one of pity. I’m too tired and too stubborn to care that I’m probably making a fool of myself by staying around, but it’s the only way I can stay sane right now. I’m right where I need to be. Tommy promises to make sure that Jonathan gets his picture, and I head back to my chair. I really hate this chair, but if this is as close as I can get to him then this chair will just have to do.
I sit with my Kindle in my hand, but all I can think about is how close I was to him when I gave Tommy the picture. He was just on the other side of the door. I wonder if he heard me talking to Tommy? I’m starting to feel lost without him, but I don’t know how that can be when he has only been back in my life for such a short time. I think Devon may be right. We are each other’s missing pieces. We do need each other to feel complete. I guess when you find the one that’s the way it is, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. Two weeks or twenty years, love is love and the one is the one. What are you gonna do?
It’s about eight o’clock, and Ireland has just gone down for the night when my phone alerts me that I have a text.
Georgia: Tell Ireland that I said thanks for the picture.
Gracie: I will.
Gracie: Can I see you tomorrow?
Georgia: No. Going home tomorrow.
Gracie: That’s great news! Can I bring you anything?
Georgia: No, thanks. Go back to work Emily. I’ll be fine.
Gracie: Well, if you aren’t going to be at the hospital I’ll go back to work, but I can stop by after and bring you lunch.
Georgia: No thanks.
He doesn’t realize he is breaking my heart with every denial he gives me. Or maybe he does. Maybe he doesn’t care. I’m trying to remember everything that Devon told me this morning. Mick and Cami have tried to remind me over and over as well that I haven’t done anything wrong. I just have to give him time. I feel like I need to bust down his door and tell him to go screw himself and his request not to see me! I don’t bust down his door though. Instead…I text him back.
Gracie: Let me know if you change your mind or you need anything at all. I’m not going anywhere, Georgia. I’ll be here when you’re ready. You and me, remember?
No reply.
Not that night.
Not the next day.
Not the next week.
Just no reply.
Chapter 38
Jonathan
It’s Sunday. I’ve been home since Friday, but I still cannot bear to see anybody. I don’t really want to see Devon, but I know I have to. I know he won’t leave me alone and will just break the damn door down if I don’t let him in. I just sit in the same spot on my couch, day in and day out. I only get up to piss and get more alcohol. Thank God I had a case of beer in the garage to get me through after I ran out of the hard stuff.
The thought of seeing anybody—knowing that Truman died on my watch—is not something that I could stomach right now. I don’t want to see the look of disappointment or pity that will surely cloud their faces. I don’t want to hear them tell me it’s not my fault when we all know it is. I was his back up, and yet again I let one of my own down. I am a sorry excuse for a man. I know that, and I’m sure everybody else does too.
My recurring nightmare is to see any of those expressions cross Emily’s face. I fought so hard to get her back only to realize that I don’t deserve her. She deserves somebody who doesn’t let everybody around him down, time and time again. Those girls, Emily and Ireland, they have become my everything, but I just can’t be around them. I am no good for them, and there is no way I can let them see me in my current state. I feel empty without them in my life every day. But if I am any kind of man at all, I will let them go.
The problem is that Emily won’t let go. She is a woman on a mission and won’t give up. She has this determined resolve and is texting me every day like everything is normal. Sharing her day with me, giving me cute messages from Ireland, and checking to see if I need anything. I can’t bring myself to reply, but I sit and read her messages over and over. It’s like my own form of torture.
If I reply it will only give her hope. I can’t do that. Clearly, it’s not good to be close to me because I tend to lose those that I care about. If anything ever happened to either of my girls, I don’t know what I would do or how I could live without them in the world. The best thing for me to do is just stay away, and as hard as it is, not answer her texts.
I smell like shit! I mean I am fucking disgusting. No, a fucking nightmare is what I am. I’ve been home for a week and can’t remember the last time I took a shower. I fucking stink! Even Frances won’t come near me. If it wasn’t for her, and the fact that she needs to be fed, watered and let out I may not have made it through this week. Devon, really should just come take her. I’m not fit to take care of her and even she is disgusted with me. I can see it in her eyes. She thinks I’m pathetic and she’s right. I am.
I have consumed every bottle of alcohol in the house and am officially out of my pain pills. I’m even out of the few sleeping pills I had on hand to get me through my crazy hours as a cop. A fucking cop. Who the hell am I kidding? I have no damn business protecting and serving anybody.
I’m sure I could be back to work by now if only I could stop wallowing in my own misery long enough to give a shit. Nope, I’m in the same spot I’ve been in for days, thinking I may actually have to leave the house soon to re-stock on some cheap booze.
I haven’t charged my phone in days, and Devon has pretty much given up on me. He hasn’t come by in a couple days, but that’s fine by me. I don’t need him riding my ass. I’m not ready. Not sure I ever will be. I don’t want to talk it out. I really don’t want to do anything but drown out my self-induced sorrows. It seems he’s finally leaving me the fuck alone though. Thank Christ!
I haven’t had a drink since sometime last night and I think it’s late afternoon by now. I hate feeling sober because it means I can feel again. I don’t want to feel.
There’s a sudden pounding on the door and Frances starts barking like crazy. She’s probably hoping whoever is on the other side of the door is here to rescue her from the monstrosity that I’ve become. I hear Devon yelling on the other side of the door, but I still don’t make a move to get up and let him in.
Finally, Devon uses the key I gave him when I moved in and bursts through the door.
“Dude, why aren’t you answering your phone?”
I have no answer for him. I just lift my head and watch him as he paces the floor. He looks desperate.
“Wake the fuck up, Irish!”
He’s shouting and Devon doesn’t shout.
“What the fuck do you want, D?”
Still yelling, he stops his pacing and stands in front of me fuming. “What do I want? I want you to snap out of your goddamned pity party and wake the fuck up! Emily and Ireland need you, asshole!”
I start to tell him that they don’t need me when he interrupts me.
“Just shut the fuck up, Irish. The bullshit has started again and it’s serious this time. Emily is terrified, dude. She needs you. YOU. NEED. TO. WAKE. THE. FUCK. UP!”
His words are starting to sink in, and I’m starting to feel anxious. I have never seen him like this. He is pissed, scared and frustrated. It must be serious. What the fuck is wrong? My girls…no! This cannot be happening. Not my girls!
“What do you mean it’s started again? Why is
she terrified, D?”
Devon calms down and sounds very somber when he replies.
“J, whoever this is, that is messing with your girl? They’ve been in Mick’s house. They were in Ireland’s room, man. They fucked up her things.”
That is all it takes. It’s like somebody has flipped a switch and the surge of adrenaline and anger that I feel shooting through my body brings me back to life.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought by being away from them I was protecting them, but I was wrong. They need me with them to keep them safe. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and not doing what I was put on this earth to do. Take care of those two girls. Nothing else matters.
Devon can see me waking up out of my masochistic funk and says, “Go get in the shower, Irish. You fucking stink.”
“Thank you, D, for everything.”
“I got you. Now go get yourself together. Your girl needs you.”
I run down the hall to take my first shower in days and wake myself up so I can get myself back to where I belong.
Chapter 39
Emily
“Chica? Why don’t you let me take her and lay her down in the other room?” Cami asks from beside me on my mom’s couch. I know she’s trying to help, but I just can’t seem to let her go. Ireland is fast asleep in my arms after falling asleep in the car on the way here. We were on our way home after a big day of running errands when Mick called and told me to come to mom’s instead. I can’t stop replaying the phone call in my head on a constant loop.
“Hey Mick, what’s up? Did you think of something you needed me to pick up while I’m out?”