Daria raised her hand. “I am.”
“Your mother is going to be fine. She had a clogged artery that caused a mild to moderate heart attack. We performed an angioplasty immediately and put in a stent to keep the artery open. You are very lucky that she was found when she was, because the risk of damage to the heart rises significantly if left untreated for more than ninety minutes. In your mother’s case, I think we got her in time for everything to be okay.”
“When can I see her?” she asked.
“Someone will be out in about twenty minutes to let you know when you can go in. She is stable right now in the recovery area.”
“Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much.”
A look of immense relief appeared on Daria’s face, and we hugged each other.
“Nina, you did save my mother’s life.”
“I am just glad I was there.”
We sat back down and she glanced to the side at me. “Had you known my mother before this?”
“You could say I had met her, but didn’t really know her.”
“Did she ever say anything inappropriate to you by any chance?”
I didn’t know if I should tell her the truth under the circumstances, but there was only one answer. “She told me…to go fuck myself…multiple times.”
Daria looked down at the ground and shook her head. “I am so, so sorry. I need to explain her behavior.”
“It’s okay. I knew it was nothing personal. She does it to all of my roommates and some of the neighbors. Why, though?”
“My mother has had these episodes for the past ten years. One minute, she’s fine and the next, she’s swearing at everyone. It’s some sort of post-traumatic reaction. It started after my father was killed. He was walking home from work late at night, and he was robbed and shot to death. They caught the guys. That’s a long story in itself…but that day, my parents had gotten into a terrible fight. The last thing she said to him from the window as he left was ‘Go fuck yourself.’ Nine hours later, the cops had woken us up to say my father had been murdered.”
Holy crap.
“I’m so sorry, Daria.”
“These episodes didn’t appear right away, but over the years, she started developing flashbacks, and it’s made her act out sometimes. She never forgave herself for the way things were left between them. These swearing episodes seem to be some sort of strange coping mechanism. She is truly a good woman and doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just a very strange reaction to a devastating event. So, on behalf of my mother, I apologize.”
I placed my hand on her back. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for explaining it to me.”
Lesson learned. People are not always what they seem on the surface.
***
I stayed with Daria until she was able to see her mother. We made plans to go to lunch soon, since she insisted on it as a thank you.
As I was walking down the hospital corridor to leave, I got stuck in a maze of hallways. Each time I would turn a corner, I’d find myself lost again.
After about five minutes of hitting dead ends, I happened to stop to catch my bearings in front of one of the patient rooms. A young teenage girl who had lost all of her hair was sitting alone staring blankly up at a television.
Just as I was about to move on, the girl noticed me staring and said, “Are you a candy striper?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You know…a candy striper. They’re those lame hospital volunteers. They’ve been coming around a lot lately.”
“No, no, I’m not.”
“Good…because they suck. They come in here with their fake smiles, like I’m supposed to believe this is Disney World or some shit.” She paused. “I have cancer, by the way.”
“I know…I…I figured—”
“Because I look like Caillou?”
“Caillou?”
“Awkward cartoon character on PBS, bald for no good reason.”
“Ah.”
“Seriously, what are you here for? Are you here for me?”
I looked into her hopeful eyes. “Maybe I am.”
“Good. Because today, I want to talk about sex.”
“Excuse me?”
“What’s your name?”
“Nina.”
“Don’t be a pussy, Nina.”
“What?”
“Pardon my language, but I don’t really hold back anymore. Life is too short not to get the point. Anyway…I said I wanted to talk about sex, and from the way you’re dressed, you seem like you’d be open to that. I have been waiting for someone just like you to show up, actually.” She waved her hand. “Get in here, and close the door.”
I looked behind my shoulders, then down at myself self-consciously and entered the room. Was I on Candid Camera? I swear, between Mrs. Ballsworthy and now this, today definitely felt like the Twilight Zone.
Landing on a chair next to her bed, I asked, “How old are you anyway?”
“I’m fifteen.”
“What’s your name?”
“Skylar,” she said, shutting off the television.
“What do you want to know, Skylar?
“I can’t talk about these things with my mother. She’d die.”
I sighed, gearing up for her questions. “Okay…”
“My first question is…how early is too early to have sex?”
Oh goodness. Why me?
I laughed to myself at the absurdity of the situation I had just gotten myself into then thought about how to respond. “There is not really one answer to that question…but fifteen is definitely too early.”
“What if someone might not live to be old enough?
You could have heard a pin drop. I was at a complete loss for words.
Thankfully, she continued before I had to come up with an answer. “See…there’s this boy. His name is Mitch. He’s my best friend and has been since we were young, but he doesn’t know I am actually in love with him. We live in New Jersey, but I’ve been here in Brooklyn for my treatments for the past few months because my father lives here, and my doctors are based here. So, I moved temporarily and haven’t seen him in a while. I’m really afraid he is going to forget about me.”
“Why would you ever lose him if he’s truly your best friend?”
“I don’t think he’d intentionally stop being my friend, but a lot of girls are into him because he’s hot. They don’t even know him like I do. They just want to get a piece and well, he’s a guy, so…”
“Have you told him how you feel?”
“Things started to get a little weird between us right before my diagnosis. He was looking at me differently, and I was starting to think something might happen. I have always held onto this fantasy that I would be his—you know—first. And he would be mine. If I’m not around, though, whether it’s because of my treatments or…otherwise and he meets someone, I may never get the chance. Every second that I’m away, I feel like I’m losing him.”
A stiff drink would have really come in handy right about now.
“Does he come visit?” I asked.
“That’s the thing. He’s been begging me to let him. He doesn’t know which hospital I am at because I won’t tell him. I don’t want him to see me like this, but I miss him so much…it’s killing me.” She reached over to her phone and pulled up a photo. “That’s him. That’s Mitch.”
“He’s really cute,” I said as she handed it to me. He was. With dark, longish hair under a Yankees cap and big blue eyes, I could see why she was feeling like that about him.”
She looked hopeless. “What am I gonna do?”
“Well, Skylar, I would say a wise old man, but in reality…a wise, pierced, tattooed man once told me, you can choose to stay in the present and let go of the fear or you can choose to engage it.”
“He sounds hot.”
“He is. The point is…you are worrying about what might happen instead of using this time to be with the person you care about. He wants to see you. What are yo
u afraid he’ll think? You’re beautiful.” She was. Not many people can pull off bald, but she looked angelic.
“You want to see beautiful?” She scrolled through her phone and handed me another photo of Mitch and her. She had long flowing auburn hair, a little more meat on her bones and color in her cheeks, and the two of them looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch ad.
“You were gorgeous then with your hair, and you are gorgeous now without it. What can I do to make you see that? You need to let him see you.”
She seemed to be struggling with my suggestion but eventually shook her head in agreement. “Okay, then. I’ll need your help. I’ll need props.”
“What?”
“Props! For the Skylar Seymour Pretend I Don’t Have Cancer Extreme Makeover Edition. I have a wig, but it’s lame. I’ll need a really good one, like with real human hair and highlights like yours. It needs to be unbeweaveable. And I’ll need some makeup and chicken cutlets.”
“Chicken cutlets?”
“Those boob enhancers. I wouldn’t expect you to know what those are, Dolly Parton.”
I looked down at my breasts. She had a point.
“I need to look even better than before.”
“Even though I think you look perfect right now, I will do whatever it takes to make sure you feel confident enough to see him.”
Because I know what it feels like to be crazy for a guy who’s also your best friend.
I put my hand on her knee. “Give me a few days, okay? My roommate works in a salon downtown. I think she can hook me up with some human hair.”
“Good.”
What have I gotten myself into? Whatever it was, it invigorated me and gave me a sense of purpose. If it was possible to fall in love at first sight with this person, I think I might have.
“Skylar, how often to do those candy strippers…stripers…come to visit you?”
“They’d be more exciting if they were strippers. They come by a couple of times a week.”
“Well, I’m gonna talk to someone and figure out how to be your candy striper from now on.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Nina?”
“No, but there is someone special who I really care about. He’s kind of like my Mitch. His name is Jake.”
“Have you screwed his brains out yet?”
“Skylar—”
“Well, have you?”
“No.”
“What are you waiting for? You’re old enough.”
“I know that. But things are complicated. We’re supposed to talk soon, so…”
Why was I getting into this?
She sat up eagerly. “Will you text me if something happens?”
“I…I guess.”
“Good.” She grabbed my phone and programmed her number into it.
I stared at her smooth head and her beaming eyes that I had just put a glimmer of hope back into and realized I hadn’t been lost at all earlier. Something had led me to exactly where I was supposed to end up. I just couldn’t figure out who was meant for whom.
CHAPTER 17
The next day, Sunday January 8th was my twenty-third birthday, but I hadn’t told anyone, not even Jake. Ryan knew when my birthday was somewhere in the back of his head. He certainly hadn’t given me any indication that he remembered this year. So, there would be no fanfare. I was planning on a quiet day (after yesterday’s events), trying to get all of my ducks in a row prior to Jake’s return from Boston. He said he would be coming in really late tonight and that we would be going out tomorrow and having that “talk.” My stomach was in knots. It had been two weeks since we had seen each other. I missed him something fierce.
I had arrived home after an early afternoon run to find a large gift-wrapped box sitting on my bed. I opened the small note card. If you thought we were going to forget your birthday, think again. Dinner. Tonight. 7pm. Eleni’s. Drinks are on Telly. Drunk Greek Circle Dancing. Wear Your Party Dress. Love, Tarah and Ryan
I clutched the card to my chest and giggled, secretly happy they figured it out. I immediately unwrapped the purple paisley wrapping paper. Inside the box, was a beautiful strapless, red mini dress. Tarah and I had gone shopping a few weeks ago, and I had tried this exact dress on but decided I couldn’t afford it.
“You’re gonna look so sexy in that, birthday girl.”
I turned around, and she was standing in the doorway.
“Thank you so much, but I can’t believe you spent that kind of money on me.”
Tarah walked into the room and hugged me. “It was nothing. I made some good tips yesterday. You can make it up to me by letting me make you over again tonight.”
“Why would you go through the trouble? It’s just Eleni’s.”
“It’s not just Eleni’s. It’s your birthday and open bar for us. You never know, you might meet some hot Greek down there, named Taso or Christos.”
“And we’ll fly away and live happily ever after in Mykonos.”
“See, now you’re talking!”
“Wearing my bikini, sippin’ a martini in Santorini.” I wiggled my hips as I said it and cracked myself up.
“That’s my girl! But seriously, trust me, you’re going to want to look good tonight. I’ve got this idea for your hair.”
“Speaking of hair, how’s that human hair wig search going?”
“Oh! I meant to tell you, I found the perfect one. It matches that picture you sent me of her with the hottie guy.”
Skylar had texted me the picture of her and her friend Mitch, so that I could use it to find a wig that matched her original hair.
“You do realize he’s fifteen…” I said.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, it’s beautiful, long, auburn, just like in the photo. It should be delivered to the salon sometime in the next week.”
I couldn’t wait to tell Skylar when I went to visit her this Wednesday.
***
Tarah had really outdone herself. I wore my hair down and she created two thin braids, which she tied back over the top. It was very Roman. For makeup, she insisted I wear red lipstick to match my dress.
As I slipped into the strapless frock, I received a text from Skylar.
Have you tapped that yet?
I shook my head. That girl was sex crazy. I’d text her back later.
Ryan peeked his head into my room. “Almost ready?”
“Yeah…just give me a second.”
He stood in the doorway. “Tarah had to run to the drug store. She is gonna meet us downstairs. By the way, a friend of mine from work is going to join us for dinner. His name is Michael Hunt. I think you’ll like him.”
“What do you mean…you think I’ll like him?”
“I mean, he’s good looking, single and I told him about you.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
This is why Tarah wanted to dress me up. This was a set up!
“Please tell me you didn’t plan this birthday dinner as a setup.”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s more like I planned this setup as a birthday dinner.”
“Ryan!”
“Come on, Troll. You haven’t been on one decent date since that preppy guy, and I really think you’ll get along with Michael.”
It was evident that Ryan had no clue about my feelings for Jake and Tarah had kept her word about not spilling to him. I couldn’t blame him for trying. Anyway, it was too late now. I’d have to make the best of it.
I shrugged. “Okay, but please don’t expect anything to come out of this. It’s just a friendly dinner.”
“Of course. Relax.”
When we made our way into Eleni’s, Telly greeted us at the door. “There’s the birthday girl!” he shouted.
“Hi, Telly. Thanks for the open bar tonight,” I said.
“Anything for my best customers.”
Ryan and I had just sat down when he waved over to a tall lean guy with short reddish hair who walked in the front door and made his way over to our table.
; Ryan stood up, and they clasped hands. “Hey, Michael. Glad you could make it.” He turned to me. “Nina, this is Michael Hunt. Michael, this is Nina Kennedy.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Nina.” He smiled and reached his hand out.
“Same here.”
There was nothing wrong with him. He was cute enough, nice enough, but I knew immediately this wouldn’t go anywhere.
“So, Ryan’s told me a lot about you. He said you guys are like brother and sister.”
“We are.”
Maybe if I bored him to death, he would just leave.
Ryan waved at the door again, and I turned around to see Tarah clicking her heels toward our table.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to get money.” She bent down to kiss me on the cheek then looked at Michael and Ryan. “And who’s this?”
Was she really playing dumb?
“This is my co-worker Michael. Michael, this is my girlfriend, Tarah.”
“Nice to meet you, Michael.”
“Likewise,” Michael said getting up and extending his hand.
Tarah squinted her eyes at Ryan. I wondered why. Had she not known about this?
The four of us sat there like the perfect double date when Desiree approached our table looking smug. “Hi guys. What’ll it be?”
We placed our drink orders, and as she took the drink menus away, she looked at Ryan. “No Jake tonight?”
I wanted to throw up.
Ryan shook his head. “He’s in Boston.”
“Too bad,” Desiree said.
Go away. Shoo!
She walked away, and I could breathe again. Michael started making small talk with me, and I went along with it. Like I said, there was nothing wrong with him. I was going to have to get through this casual date whether I liked it or not.
When Ryan started a conversation with Michael about work, I whispered to Tarah. “So, now I know why you tried to get me all dolled up. Nice try but no cigar.”
She sighed. “Nina…I knew nothing about this.”
“Liar,” I whispered.
She looked over at the guys as if to make sure they weren’t listening. “I did want you to get dressed up for a guy tonight…but it wasn’t for this one. It was for—”
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