by S. J. Bishop
I cried so many tears over Lily last night that I didn’t think I had any fresh ones left. Then I heard that Carter was being brought in. The nurses were all talking about it like it was a piece of juicy gossip. Carter had crashed his car while drunk, almost killing himself. No one had any more information than that just yet. It made me frantic. Was he alive or dead? I’d had no idea.
I paced Lily’s room and kept pacing it until my parents had come in. Myron had left some time before, and I’d almost wished that he was here again to comfort me or bring news of how Carter was doing. Then my dad had come in, taken one look at me and insisted I go get some air. So I left Lily in their hands and went to find Carter.
His face was bruised more than when I’d last seen it, but he’d already had several scrapes on his skin from the many fights he’d been in in the last few days. He didn’t look worse off, except that his hand was bandaged and he had tubes poking out of him.
I knew that normally I probably wouldn’t have been allowed in Carter’s room. Given his status as a celebrity, his room was off limits to all but family and a few staff members. However, from all my recent trips to the hospital with Lily, Dr. Martin knew me pretty well. In fact, he was the same doctor who had saved Lily’s life the night she’d been brought in. When I told him that Carter was a close friend, he had arranged for me to come and go from his room as I pleased.
"You’ve been here all night?" Carter asked, touched. "Just for me?"
"Well—"
I turned to look as I heard the door snap open, and Hannah and Olivia burst onto the scene. Carter pulled his hand free from mine and I tried not to wince. Oliva took one look at us and freaked out.
"What the hell is going on here?" she screamed. "We get a call that you’re in the emergency room and we rush down here only to find you making out with this tramp?"
"Olivia!" Carter shouted. I could feel my face reddening.
"We didn’t really rush here," Hannah said. "I mean we tried," she added, looking at Carter, "but the nurse who called said you were stable and we were a little hung over—"
Carter ignored his sister and turned to Olivia, "Ava came here to see me, just like you. She’s an old friend. I’ve already explained that to you." He paused. "And we weren’t making out."
"And I’m not a tramp," I said, looking Olivia squarely in the eyes.
"That’s not what I hear," Olivia said, smirking at me.
My head started pounding as the blood rushed to my temples. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means that eighteen-year-old unmarried girls don’t knock themselves up," Oliva sneered.
"Olivia," Hannah said, putting a hand on her arm. "That’s way out of line." Hannah looked almost as upset as I felt. I was glad to see that at least Hannah still cared enough to stick up for me, though no one was exactly telling Olivia to get lost.
"I didn’t come here just to see Carter," I said.
Tears threatened to pool in my eyes but I fought them back. I was sure I already looked like a gigantic mess. With no makeup, no sleep, and having cried all night, I probably looked like an old, stained pillow.I could feel how puffy my eyes were and I knew that Olivia was probably critiquing everything about my appearance. Of course even hungover, she looked like she belonged on a runway
"Oh really?" Olivia said. "Are you finally looking for a husband? Good choice, searching the hospital wards. I think all the old, rich guys are on the upper floors though."
I couldn’t believe the cruelty of this woman. She glanced over at Hannah, who looked embarrassed. Carter looked upset but seemed content to let Olivia berate me. If this was the woman who he loved, then they could have each other.
"Look," I said, finding new courage. I was too tired and too worried to put up with this snob any longer. "My daughter’s also on this floor. I’ve been with her all night. I only came in to Carter’s room when I found out he was here too. I thought a friendly face might cheer him up, but I guess I should’ve just left him to himself. He obviously prefers a total bitch to a friendly face."
Olivia’s smile faltered and Hannah’s face went white. I could feel Carter looking at me.
"Lily’s here?" he asked, concern etching deep lines across his face.
"Yes," I snapped. "But none of you would ever know that, would you? You all seem to think the most important person in your life is yourself. I hope you get better fast, Carter, I really do. But I have to get back to my three-year-old daughter. She’s the most important person in my life."
Hannah smacked Olivia’s arm.
"Sorry," Olivia mumbled. But she didn’t sound particularly sorry to me.
"Wait," Hannah said. I looked at my old best friend. Her own eyes seemed bright with tears now too. "My rehearsal dinner is coming up. Why don’t you come to it?"
"I don’t think so, Hannah."
"Please," Hannah replied. "I wish you would."
"Yeah," Carter said. "Me too."
Maybe I was judging them a little unfairly. Everyone except Olivia, that was. After all, they were probably dealing with their own shock at what had happened with Carter, and here I was expecting them to make me feel wanted. "I can’t come," I said. "I have to work."
"I haven’t told you when it is yet," Hannah replied.
"It doesn’t matter. I’m always working. Or I’m with Lily." I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They spilled over as I opened the door. A flash went off in my face. "Wrong girl!" the photographer shouted. I closed the door behind me. The photographers made a path for me, not caring who I was or why I was there. I wasn’t significant enough for them to care about.
13
Carter
Olivia pushed me out of my room and over to the nurse’s station, while I waited for someone to come and officially release me. The doctor had finally given his consent for my departure, and they had managed to get the reporters out of the hospital long enough for me to make my way out of the room without being accosted.
I supposed in a way it was good, that so many people wanted my story. It meant that despite everything, my popularity had not waned. I knew it was egotistical, but I liked being the center of attention. Though I had to admit that now was not exactly the greatest timing. Olivia still seemed pretty pissed. She pushed me along the hall and "accidentally" bumped into things every few feet.
I had never realized how jealous she could be. We’d each had our own affairs over the years. I knew all about hers, and she knew just as well about mine. She’d never expressed much concern for them before. Perhaps that was because she’d never sensed real competition before.
Wait, was I admitting that Ava was competition? I cared for her, sure. But how much exactly?Enough to dump Olivia for good? She was a supermodel. I realized suddenly, how shallow that sounded. Was I only with Olivia because some part of me believed that there was no feat than dating a model? Had I always been so shallow, or had it grown like a fungus? If so, when did it start?
I already knew the answer to that though. It had started the second I left Dover Chase. I hated to admit it, but the things you read about yourself in the press and online... they could go to your head if you weren’t careful. And I hadn’t been.
A skinny nurse with graying hair finally came up to me, a stack of papers under her arm.
"Hello, Mr. Stone. I’m Nurse Lauren. I hear you’re checking out. Glad you’re feeling better, though you’ll certainly be missed." She smiled at me. Olivia’s jaw tightened as she looked at the woman. The nurse’s smile faded fast and she handed me a bunch of papers to sign.
A second nurse, almost as skinny but much younger and with a sallow face, came up to the station while I was checking out. "That poor girl," she said to Nurse Lauren, who looked up from checking my papers.
"The three-year-old?" Nurse Lauren asked.
The second nurse nodded. "She’s the sweetest little girl ever. Her mom’s worried sick, and I don’t blame her. I don’t know how that child is still alive right now as it is, what with all
the medical problems she’s got."
I felt Olivia stiffen beside me. I knew that I shouldn’t ask, especially with her standing right there, but I just had to know. "Excuse me, but are you talking about Lily Hart?"
The younger nurse’s face flushed. "I’m sorry," she said. "I shouldn’t have been discussing it in front of you. It’s just hard sometimes... the things we see."
"I’m not mad. I just wondered if you could give me some information. Her condition... is it really that serious?"
The nurses exchanged a look. "Are you family?" Nurse Lauren asked.
"A friend of the family."
"Well, we really shouldn’t say..."
I flashed her one of my million dollar smiles. "I understand. I’m an old friend of her mom’s. I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help."
Nurse Lauren’s face softened. I saw Olivia’s hands grip tighter around the bars of my wheelchair.
"I don’t think so," the nurse said. "The child’s very ill. Not to sound cruel, but I honestly don’t think she’ll be able to last much longer."
My heart thumped in my chest, "There’s nothing they can do?" I asked.
"There’s surgery," the nurse said. "It’s risky, but it would probably help."
"Then why don’t they do it?" I asked, horrified that Ava wouldn’t agree to whatever the doctors advised.
"The mom’s trying," the younger nurse said, leaning in. "But it’s expensive. I know she’s talked to everyone in our billing department, but there’s nothing they can do."
"Insurance won’t cover it?"
"No insurance," Nurse Lauren said, shaking her head.
"Figures," Olivia mumbled. I shot her a look. Was she really so cruel that she could continue to criticize Ava despite how much pain she was obviously in over all of this.
"Just how expensive is the surgery?" I asked. I glanced sideways at Olivia just then and it looked like she was about to have an aneurysm her face was so red.
"At least a hundred grand," the nurse said. I let out a long, low whistle. That was a lot of money, but I had a hundred times that in my bank account this very second. I would help Ava, of course. That is if she wasn’t too proud to let me.
"Are we done here?" Olivia demanded.
"Yes," Nurse Lauren said, seeming to remember that Olivia was still there. She smiled at me one last time before Olivia hurled my chair towards the elevator.
"You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking," she said, as she pushed me through the hall.
"Why not?" I asked, realizing it was no use to pretend.
"Because," she stammered. "You work hard for that money. Why would you just give it away? Is there something going on between you and that Ava person?" She stopped my wheelchair in front of the elevators. The doors opened and she pushed me inside, bumping my knees against the wall. No accident.
"Of course not." But a pang of guilt hit me. "Besides, I’m not even sure why you care so much. The last I’d heard you were dating your director."
Olivia smiled softly. "Over and done," she said. "Just like I expect you to be with your dear old friend."
14
Ava
I walked into Piccadilly’s, my eyes still red. Lily had been released. The worst was over for now. My parents were keeping a close watch on her. It was breaking me apart knowing that I had to act fast. I couldn’t come up with a plan beyond working more hours and selling everything I owned, which was very little. I doubted my 1994 Dodge Spirit would bring in more than two hundred dollars in its current condition or I’d have already sold it.
"Hi Ava," Myron greeted me as I walked into the kitchen. I flashed him a smile. Things had been slightly awkward after our kiss at the hospital, but he’d assured me that he wasn’t expecting anything more than friendship. I’d admitted to him that the kiss had been an act of loneliness and sorrow and he understood. At least, that was what he’d said. Seeing his puppy dog eyes, I wasn’t completely convinced that it had sunk in that I wasn’t into him like that, but it was nice to have someone to talk to.
"Hi Myron."
"Just a head’s up," he whispered, looking around. "Mr. Brewster is on the war path today. Three people called out sick tonight, and he’s mad."
"Oh. Thanks for the warning." I’d called out sick the last couple of nights myself. I hated to lose the money, of course, but I couldn’t just leave Lily alone in the hospital.
"Ava," Mr. Brewster called suddenly, popping out of the kitchen. "Can I see you a moment please?" Mr. Brewster was a short man with a lot of stomach pudge, which amounted to his sometimes being called "Doughboy" by the staff when he wasn’t around. He had strange bushy eyebrows, and waitresses often caught him flirting with young girls who came in with fake IDs.
I hadn’t even changed into my work shirt yet. But I quickly clocked in and went to Mr. Brewster’s office, which was little more than a closet without the brooms.
"Ava," he said. "First off, how’s Lily?"
"Not very good."
My answer seemed to startle him. I supposed he’d only been asking to be cordial, not because he really cared. Now he was stuck for what to say.
"Oh, well that’s unfortunate. I’m sorry to hear that. Listen, Ava, the reason I asked you in here is that you’ve been missing a lot of work lately."
"I know." Oh my god, was he going to fire me? "Lily’s just been so ill.” I stammered. "She only got out of the hospital this morning."
Mr. Brewster shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable. "I’m not a heartless man," he said. "But you know that I have a business to run here. I can’t let everyone call out sick every time something goes wrong in their life."
"This isn’t just ‘something’ that’s gone wrong. My daughter is dying, Mr. Brewster," I said, tears spilling over. "Dying." I collapsed in a nearby chair, my body shaking.
Mr. Brewster hesitated, then I felt him step closer to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"Please don’t fire me," I said through my tears. "I don’t know what I’ll do."
He patted my shoulder, trying to comfort me. His hand stopped then began to move around in a slow circle, drifting over to my back. I took in a sharp breath and the tears ceased. My body tensed up, waiting to see how far he was going to take this. I didn’t want to overreact. Maybe he was just trying to be a nice guy, to comfort me. But something about the way he was rubbing my back did not feel like he was a nice guy at all.
"Don’t worry, Ava," he said. "I promise not to fire you. Maybe I could even help a little. I didn’t realize how dire things were for you. Maybe some earlier shifts? Hmm? Would that help?"
"It might," I conceded, but now I was all too aware of Mr. Brewster’s hand as it drifted down my back now, pausing just below the line of my bra.
"I’d only have a favor or two to ask of you. A little side project you could help me with, and I’d pay you for your time, of course." His hand slid lower still on my back. It was just above my hips and his fingers began massaging my spine. I fought back the urge to scream or to shove his hand away. He was really creeping me out, but I was still afraid of getting him mad because I couldn’t even bear to think of what would happen to Lily if I were to lose this job.
"Mr. Brewster," I jumped up from my seat now. "I-I..." But I was at a loss for words. Part of me couldn’t believe what was happening. I’d worked for Mr. Brewster for two years and he’d never once made a pass at me like he was now. Though I couldn’t help remembering a few waitresses, here and there, who had left their jobs suddenly.Some even in the middle of their shifts.
"Whoa, Ava, relax," Mr. Brewster said. "It’s alright. I don’t bite. He smiled at me, but his teeth were too white. Too sharp.
"Thanks. I’ll think about it." Then I quickly ran from his office. I almost knocked Myron over in the hall. He was standing just outside Mr. Brewster’s office. I felt my face go pale. "Did you hear...?" Myron nodded and my eyes spilled over. As the tears came, Myron drew me into a hug.
"Don’t
worry," he told me. "He won’t touch you."
"I just can’t believe he’d do something like that."
"All men are scum," Myron said. "You can’t trust any of them."
I laughed, pulling away from him. "Myron, you’re a man."
"I know," he said smiling at me. Something about the way the light caught his eyes as his lips curled up made me shiver. It was gone just as fast.
15
Carter
I spent a restless night in my bed thinking about Ava and Lily. Three years old. Lily was three years old. The last time I’d been with Ava—with the exception of the night we’d shared before Olivia had shown up and ruined it all—was three years ago.
It can’t be; she would have told me for sure. But when dawn broke I was still awake, unable to quiet my mind from the gnawing thoughts that wouldn’t leave me in peace. I decided it was time to do some investigating.
Thankfully Hannah had talked Olivia into spending the night in her room at our parents’ house. Hannah had called it a pre-wedding girls’ night. Erik,her fiancé, hadn’t arrived from Los Angeles yet, so Hannah was still trying to keep herself entertained, and Olivia was definitely good in that department. She could turn brushing her teeth into a melodrama.
"Hey," I said, finding Hannah alone in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and her wedding planner in the other. "Where’s Olivia?"
"Still asleep. We had a late night. Were Mom and Dad super pissed at you?"
"Oh yeah," I laughed. "Let’s see... I’m irresponsible. I would deserve jail time if I got it. Drinking and driving is a serious crime. You know, all that good parental lecture stuff."
Hannah smiled at me. "You know, they do have a point about some of it. I mean, you could’ve been killed."