Unprotected

by Kristin Lee Johnson

  “Amanda, can I tell you something?” Bonnie leaned forward and put her hand on Amanda’s knee. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’ve actually seen you here a lot, especially a few years ago when your mom was first diagnosed. I’ve been through this myself with my husband who passed away last March. I have lots of family—four brothers and a sister, many nieces and nephews, cousins, and my grandma who is still alive. It’s really true that in a crisis you learn who your friends are. My brothers didn’t have a clue about what to do for me, my sister lives in Florida, and my friends brought food and ran out the door as quick as they could. My sister-in-law, the one who is married to my youngest brother, was the one who came to the funeral home with me to pick out a casket. She stood with me at the funeral, wrote thank you notes with me afterwards, and took me out for coffee every Saturday morning without fail.”

  “That’s nice,” Amanda said, beginning to feel awkward. Bonnie was right. They didn’t know each other very well, and she didn’t know why she was telling her all this now.

  “My point is that it isn’t easy to support someone through a loss like this, and my family couldn’t really handle it. My sister-in-law was the only one who understood what I needed and was truly there for me, and she only married my brother three years ago. I don’t think these people would do all this because you’re a charity case,” Bonnie said.

  “I don’t know why anyone would do all the things they’ve done for me,” Amanda said suddenly. “You wouldn’t believe what these people have done. They just give and give, and I keep waiting to hear what the catch is.”

  “Maybe they are doing this because they like you, my dear. Maybe they get as much out of being with you as you get out of being with them.”

  “I can’t imagine that,” Amanda said.

  “Amanda!” Bonnie said, grabbing her shoulders and looking her in the face. “Are you really this cynical, or do you think you’re just not worth the effort?”

  Amanda sighed and looked at the floor in reply.

  “Oh dear,” Bonnie said. “I thought so.”

  * * *

  When Bonnie went back to her shift, Amanda saw that the sun was coming up and thought she should return to her mother’s room. She found Jake dozing and Trix sitting by the window watching the sunrise.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” Trix said quietly. “I was going to chase you down, but I realized you might need some space so I didn’t.”

  “It’s okay,” Amanda said. “Let’s just forget it.”

  Trix opened her mouth to reply, but realized that she wouldn’t be “forgetting it” if she did, so she stopped herself. “Pretty sunrise.”

  Amanda smiled absently and sat back on her chair, back in her “position.”

  “Would you like me to run out and get some bagels?” Trix asked.

  Amanda groaned. “I’m really not ready to eat yet. I’ll wait until after the rounds and see how I feel then.”

  She figured that Trix somehow knew that she was waiting to see what the doctor thought her mother’s condition was before she allowed herself to plan the day. “Pull your chair over by the window so you can see this, Amanda.”

  Obediently, Amanda sat by Trix to watch the sunrise. She felt like she could almost see the colors becoming more vivid and intense in the sky. But before long, the colors faded into light. The sky became light blue.

  A nurse came in and began checking her mother’s vitals. Amanda allowed herself to look at her mom’s face, something she realized she had done very little. Her eyes were slightly open, though it would be more accurate to say they were not quite closed. Amanda was reminded she didn’t know the last conversation she had with her mother—the last time she had seen those eyes open. She would never see them open again. It seemed like she should have said something significant, or that her mother should have said something significant to her. Instead, their parting words had been incidentals.

  “Are you the daughter?” the nurse asked coldly. There was a time when everyone in this hospital made a point of knowing who she was. Only three months before, they had hosted her graduation party. Not that much time had passed, but it seemed that they were all strangers.

  Amanda got up and stood next to the nurse, reading the chart over her shoulder. Only notes were scribbled, and Amanda couldn’t see anything of significance. The nurse pulled the chart away so Amanda couldn’t see it.

  “Dr. Hamabi will be through in a few minutes,” the nurse said curtly over her shoulder as she left the room.

  Knowing that she was among strangers caused Amanda’s loneliness to swell again, and she had a horrid thought. She just wanted it to be over. She wanted to go eat ice cream and play hearts at the Mann’s kitchen table and pretend none of this was her reality. She wanted two parents who had a solid, stable marriage and a middle-class existence to drop her off at college in their minivan and cry when she finally kicked them out of her dorm room. Amanda was having so much trouble staying numb to the pain of too many losses and changes happening all at once. Her chest felt like a boulder was crushing it. She could hear herself almost gasping for air. Her fingernails dug into her palms until she could finally feel blood, her knuckles aching.

  A small, balding Middle Eastern man wearing scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck walked in. He smiled kindly at her. “You are family, correct?”

  “I’m her daughter,” Amanda said, almost whispering.

  “Yes. Well,” he said, looking at her chart. “You understand she will most likely pass away in few days?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “There no more patients on this unit,” Dr. Hamabi said. “I work on general medicine floor, and I check with you every few hours. The nurse will stay here most of time.”

  “She’s the only person on this whole floor?” Trix asked incredulously.

  He shook his head, closed her chart and looked at Amanda. “If her breathing becomes labored, heavy, or if there any big changes on monitors, push your call button.”

  Amanda could only nod. When she dies, let us know.

  * * *

  After Dr. Hamabi left, Trix went to change clothes and pick up some breakfast.

  “Let me see your hands,” Jake said suddenly. Amanda jumped, not knowing he was awake.

  “What? Why?” Amanda said. “When did you wake up anyway?” She sat on her chair next to his.

  He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees.

  “I saw you clenching your fists before,” Jake said. “Except it looked like you were trying to dig your nails into your hands. I want to see if you cut yourself.” He was irritable again.

  “Jake, why are you here if you’re just going to get pissy and start arguments? Why don’t you just go home?” Amanda put her hands under her legs so he couldn’t get a look at them.

  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It would add to the melodrama of the lone daughter watching her mother die.” He put his head down in his hands and rubbed his hair hard.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Amanda yelled at him, her voice shaking with rage and exhaustion. “What are you mad at me for? Go home if you don’t want to be here. I never asked you to stay.”

  “You bet I’m mad at you. I’m sick of you moping around like some victim, just letting shitty things happen to you so people like my mother can rescue you.”

  Amanda almost fell off her chair in shock. She was furious, but she also needed to cower from his sudden angry attack. She wanted to curl in a corner and disappear like a wounded, orphaned puppy. She couldn’t find a word to say. So Jake continued.

  “There you go again, sitting there with your chin quivering because I’m yelling at you. Why don’t you go scratch yourself up again, or dig some new welts in your hands? Yell at me. Yell at her, your bitch of a mother who did a shitty job being your mom and then goes off and dies on you, leaving you a freaking orphan. Yell at that doctor that cares so much he’ll be two floors down, but you can call him when she croaks. Yell at me for be
ing such a bastard. Do something, Amanda! Stand up for yourself or this world is going to swallow you up whole!”

  Amanda jumped up and wanted to walk out, but she let herself explode on him instead. “Go to hell, Jacob. I’ll be just fine after you and the rest of your family go back to your lives and drop my charity case from your roster. I have a life, and I can take care of myself.” She went to Trix’s chair by the window and sat down again in a huff. Jake rolled his eyes and shook his head, but Amanda swore he looked like he felt better.

  * * *

  They spoke very little the rest of that day. Trix returned with bags of food, which Jake devoured and Amanda barely touched. Amanda and Trix alternately played rummy and did crosswords together. Jake slept or watched MTV, still with the volume down to nothing. He didn’t go home to change, but went into the hallway bathroom at one point to brush his teeth and add some gel to his hair. Amanda called into work and said she wouldn’t be coming in until further notice. Michael brought them dinner and stayed into the evening.

  April died later that evening uneventfully. Her breathing got faster, then labored, then slower, and finally her chest didn’t rise again. Amanda stared blankly at the flat line, and then at her mother. She waited for her mother’s chest to rise, as though needing to confirm what the machine was obviously telling her. She was gone. There were five bodies, but four lives in the room. Amanda wondered if her soul was floating out of her, or if a ghostly apparition sat up and walked out, invisible to the mortals in the room. She looked up, as if to look at heaven and try to see if her mother was there yet, but of course all she saw were the water stained tiles of the ceiling.

  Michael slipped out of the room, presumably to find a nurse. Jake and Trix were watching her. She was truly alone now that her mother was gone, but she felt no different than she did the moment before she died. She felt no more alone. Trix came over, knelt in front of Amanda and grabbed her hands. Amanda met her tearful eyes and shrugged, almost in apology. No emotion came.

  The next hours drifted by in surreal images. The doctor checked her mom’s vital signs and confirmed that she had died. There was some discussion about the time it had occurred. A nurse came in and began turning off and unplugging machines. Someone asked Amanda if she would like some time alone with her mother. She shook her head. Amanda could think of nothing to say to her.

  “She left instructions about which funeral home to use,” the nurse was saying to Trix. A small corner of Amanda’s brain registered how strange it was that April left instructions about the funeral home she wanted.

  “What other instructions did she leave?” Amanda heard herself ask.

  Everyone turned to Amanda, apparently surprised to hear her speak. The nurse looked down at the sheet of spiral notebook paper clipped to her chart. “She wants to wear a Harley Davidson t-shirt when she’s cremated. She wants you to keep her ashes and spread them in the ocean or river, or someplace that’s close to you wherever you make your home someday. She wants a little ceremony in the chapel outside the hospital. She wants it to be short.” The nurse, another stranger, looked up at Amanda. “Do you want a copy of her instructions?” she asked blandly.

  Amanda nodded. The nurse went behind the nurses’ station and made a copy, considered both pages for a moment, and then gave Amanda the original. Last Will it said on the top in all capital letters in her mother’s printing. Amanda folded it again and put it in her jeans pocket.

  Trix came out of the room carrying a medium-sized box, with her book bag over her shoulder. Michael took the box and carried it, and Amanda realized Jake’s arm was around her. They walked silently out of the hospital. She got in the backseat of Michael’s car, and Jake took her keys and drove Amanda’s car back. They drove home without a word. Michael pulled into the driveway and let everyone out before he pulled the car into the garage.

  It was after midnight. Trix tried to offer everyone a snack, but no one was hungry. Everyone just went his or her direction to get ready for bed. Amanda was in her bathroom brushing her teeth with the door open a crack. Trix knocked softly.

  “I know you’re not ready to talk, sweetheart, but is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?” Amanda shook her head, but allowed Trix to hug her tightly for several minutes. Even Michael stopped in the hallway, put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  Amanda crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling. She looked at the bozo next to her bed that still held the sign welcoming her to the Mann’s home. She had a few more personal things in the room, but otherwise it was bare. She waited for sleep to come, exhausted.

  She hadn’t lain in bed long when she heard another knock. Jake came in and knelt on the floor by her bed. She turned on her side to look at him.

  “I’m sorry, Amanda,” he whispered. His eyes were wet. Hearing his apology and seeing his sadness broke something inside of her, and she was unable to keep her grief away any longer. Nearly a decade of tears forced their way out, and she curled into a ball and sobbed. Jake crawled into bed with her and held her while her body quaked. His chest became warm and wet with her tears. He rubbed his cheek against her face, and gradually the sobs dwindled to quiet, endless streams of tears. He held her face with his hands and kissed her eyelids gently, trying to make the tears stop.

  Without thinking it through and before he could stop himself, he kissed her again. Her face still wet with tears, he kissed her mouth and cheeks and nose and forehead. She drew her breath in sharply, shocked by his kiss and the intense flood of emotion that came with it. She felt a stabbing in her chest that pulsed down to her toes. She wrapped her arms around him and dug her fingernails into his back. He arched and groaned. He reached down and pulled her t-shirt off with one motion before she could react. Their skin was pressed together, their hearts thudding, their breathing shallow and fast.

  Neither knew it for sure about the other, but it was the first time for both of them. He held her hand, his thumb brushing over where she had cut into her skin with her nails.

  “Are you okay?” Jake whispered, his breath hot in her ear.

  She nodded, willing him not to stop.

  They moved together, the intensity so overwhelming for Amanda that she could barely breathe. They were together like this for several minutes, while he kept wiping and kissing her tears away. Finally, his whole body shuddered, and then he was still. Amanda’s heart was still racing, but she laid still. He pulled away and rolled onto his back, still breathing hard and fast.

  Jake looked over and saw a tear slide down her cheek by her temple. She couldn’t look at him. Neither knew what to say. She wondered if he was going to get up and go back to his room.

  He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, staring at the ceiling.

  “God, Amanda,” Jake whispered. “Was that okay? Are you okay?” He sounded worried, and possibly regretful.

  She nodded.

  “I love you, Amanda.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. He reached down and held her hand until he fell asleep.

  * * *

  Amanda lay still, unaware of the time passing. Jake had rolled over and was facing away from her, his breathing slow and regular. She could hardly absorb what had just happened, what he had just said, what they had just done.

  She edged her way out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt and shorts. Some part of her mind wondered if Trix or Michael had heard them. She felt uncomfortable and sore. Her hands were shaking, and her breathing was still ragged. The dull roar in the back of her head had returned, stronger than it had ever been. The urge to hurt herself was almost uncontrollable. Nothing had ever been as terrifying as the feeling she had at this moment. She backed away from the bed and found her two laundry baskets. One was full of folded clothes waiting to be put away. She opened her drawers as quietly as she could and piled the rest of her clothes in the baskets.

  The room had never been very dark because of the bright streetlight that shined through the bedroom window. Amanda scanned the floor and
decided to grab the most important things to pack in her bags, her eyes barely focusing as the tears fell.

  Amanda had sloppily packed two laundry baskets and stuffed some things into her pillow case. She dragged them carefully into the hallway and down the stairs to the entryway. She found her purse with her keys hanging by the door. Carefully she opened the door and set her belongings on the front step.

  The house creaked, and Amanda paused. A tiny voice in her head tried to tell her to run back upstairs and crawl into bed with Jake. She imagined the warmth lying next to him under the sheets. Then her stomach lurched, and Amanda choked. It was just too much, and she just couldn’t stand to feel everything she was feeling. Tears sprang up again, and she knew she was being a fraud. This was not her life. This was not her world. She would never be allowed to stay.

  Amanda pulled the door open quietly, set the lock so the door would still be locked when she left, and pulled the door closed behind her. She dragged her baskets to her car parked in the driveway, loaded them quickly in the hatchback, and closed it carefully. She got in the car and backed out of the driveway before she turned the ignition. She drove away.

  When she reached the park a few blocks away where she used to play soccer, Amanda pulled her car over. She held her head in her hands and sobbed.

  Part Two

  Chapter Five

  October 2010

  In those ridiculous heels, every footstep made an echoing clop that announced her departure to the lower floors of the courthouse. She hoped she had escaped before Jake realized she had run away once again.

  Finally she found a back door and went outside, blasted by the brisk October air. She decided to walk and attempt to clear her head. She had only been there a month, but she loved her job. Social work was a career she backed into because the sociology classes in college interested her the most. During a seminar, there was a speaker on child protection, about which she was amazingly ignorant. The idea of helping families heal and get back together spoke to her. Families were fascinating to Amanda because she had never really had one of her own. Perhaps seeing other people’s families up close would help her figure out how they work, and maybe someday would lead her on a path to having a family of her own.