“High fat, high carbs,” he said.
“Exactly. But lots of stuff from the garden, too. I’ll be healthy and fat.”
“You aren’t fat at all. I mean—you could certainly use a little toning or conditioning. Everyone could. But you aren’t overweight.”
“You’re very sweet,” she said. “Every woman believes she is overweight. It’s how we’re wired. We also don’t believe men who tell us we aren’t, because men will say anything to get laid. That’s how you’re wired.”
Patrick laughed. “You have wisdom.”
“Hey baby brother.” Paula plopped down on the stool next to Patrick, and Matt sat next to Cynthia. “He take you to his secret booty place?” she asked Cynthia.
Cynthia smiled. “Unless he has more than one, yeah.”
Paula looked her up and down. “You don’t look like you had sex.” Then to Patrick, “Off your game, bro?”
“Actually, we did have sex, but it was over so fast he didn’t have time to mess up my hair,” Cynthia said.
“Hey!” Patrick glared at her and then laughed. “That’s a total lie. In fact, she and I are having sex right now. But it’s on a difference transcendental plane that you wouldn’t understand.”
Paula rolled her eyes. “You remember that one white girl you took there in high school? Becky was it?”
Patrick shook his head. “You think all white girls are named Becky.”
“That’s true. But I’m not wrong.”
“How are you doing?” Cynthia said quietly to Matt while Patrick and Paula continued reminiscing and/or bickering about his sexual exploits over the years.
“I’m fine. I’m really sorry,” he said quietly, so only Cynthia could hear.
Cynthia looked at him and tilted her head.
“About the way she’s been acting. She’s usually not like this. Honestly, it’s part of the reason we never visit. I don’t like our daughter seeing her mother being this way. She’s normally very sweet and kind and not judgmental. Something about being around her family makes her…” He didn’t finish the sentence.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Cynthia said. “What do you do for work, Matthew?”
“Matt is fine. Middle management at an insurance company. I push paper around.”
“I worked in the insurance business for a long, long time. Customer service. It was horrible,” she said.
“If it was horrible, why’d you keep doing it?”
“I have no idea. You just fall into a pattern. You do this thing, and it’s okay, but you don’t think you’ll do it forever. But then you turn around and it’s fifteen years later and there you are, still doing it.”
Matt nodded. “I suppose my job is like that. It’s not like any kid ever says, ‘When I grow up, I want to be in middle management!’”
Cynthia laughed. “I suspect you’re right.”
“What are you two laughing about?” Paula asked.
“Our hopes and dreams,” Cynthia replied.
Paula scrunched up her eyebrows. “Huh.”
THIRTY
“Mind if I join you?”
Cynthia looked up from the floor and saw Deena standing in the doorway to the game room. “The more the merrier,” she said. “Mats are over there,” she said, pointing.
“Yeah, I remember,” Deena replied. She pulled out the spare mat and unrolled it next to Cynthia’s. Then she did a few preliminary stretches before joining Cynthia in following the on-screen yoga instructor. “Have fun last night?” she asked.
“Yeah, it was good. Finally got to talk to Matt. How about you? Get to spend some more quality time with Daddy?” Cynthia smiled.
“He got me a present,” Deena said.
“I can only imagine,” Cynthia replied. She moved to the next position, waiting for Deena to provide more details, but Deena remained silent. “Are you going to tell me what it was?”
“Oh, sure. Story and a stuffie,” she said.
Cynthia looked at her, puzzled. “I’m going to need you to parse that for me. Remember that I don’t know anything about your lifestyle.”
“Story and a stuffie. The story was about a tadpole and a fish that are friends, but then the tadpole starts changing.”
“Oh, I remember that one. ‘Fish is Fish,’ right?”
“Yes! And he got me a stuffed frog, and he tucked me in, and Froggy and I listened to Daddy reading the story. And then I went to sleep.”
Cynthia took a moment to process Deena’s explanation. “Okay. Story and a stuffed animal. I didn’t know what a stuffie was, and my mind was in a completely different place from that.”
Deena laughed. “Oh! I can imagine.”
“I have to admit,” Cynthia said, “that is nothing like I was expecting your night to be.”
“It’s not all handcuffs and floggers,” Deena said. “Although those are nice, too. But I was super tired, and Daddy didn’t need me that way, so I got to be in little space. So you skipped the good stuff in your description of last night. What did you and Patrick do?”
“He gave me the most bizarre tour ever, then we ended up at his secret make-out place.”
“Ooh! And did you make out?”
“We started to, but I stopped things before they got out of hand. I’m not big into having sex in strange places. Cars, trains—”
“Your butt,” Deena interjected.
Cynthia laughed. “Like that old Newlywed Game blooper! I got that reference. And yeah, not there either.”
“So never in any of those places?”
“Nope. I’m a bedroom kind of girl. Up against a wall a couple times, but at home. And never in the butt.”
“You should try the butt,” Deena said. “It’s a whole different thing.”
“No thanks. Not for me.”
“Well I can understand not wanting car sex. I’ve done that a few times, and I don’t think I’ve ever finished. It’s just so distracting with all the stuff poking into you.” Deena paused. “Wait. I mean other stuff poking… you know what? Never mind.”
Cynthia laughed. “I knew what you meant. The car idea was definitely a turn-off, but even if we were in a bed. I barely know him, and he’ll be gone in a day.”
“So what?” Deena asked. “Why not a hot little fling?”
Cynthia got up to rewind the tape, which had finished. Then she sat back on the mat and crossed her legs. “It’s hard to explain.” She paused and collected her thoughts. “Okay, so what you did last night. That was quiet and intimate, right? Just you and him in this peaceful, loving space.”
“Yeah. Exactly,” Deena agreed. Her face took on a dreamy expression.
“That’s the only kind of sex I really enjoy. That connected, intimate, souls-touching kind. That hot animal thing that always happens in the movies? Any time I’ve done that, I just felt like I was faking it. And of course, I can’t orgasm from a guy banging me.”
“Yeah, me neither. That’s what Daddy’s mouth is for.”
“I can’t get there that way. I think I’m too self-conscious about having someone’s face down there. I must sound like a total prude.”
“No. Well, yeah kinda. So how can you get there with a guy?”
“I can’t. I get there by myself a few different ways. But not with a guy. Not ever.”
“Huh. That sucks.”
“I’m fine with it. It means sex for me is more spiritual and less physical, though. That’s why the idea of a one-night-stand or even like two or three nights… it’s just not appealing.”
Deena stood up. “Yeah, I can see that. Have you broken the news to Patrick?”
“I think so. I mean, I said I wasn’t interested in sex last night. But, I suppose men don’t always understand things, even when you speak clearly and directly.”
“No, they do not,” Deena laughed.
“I need coffee,” Cynthia said, rolling up her mat. Deena rolled up hers, and the two stored them away and headed out to see who else was up.
¤
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“That was fast,” Emma said, as Cynthia joined her in the sitting room after finishing the dishes.
“It goes a lot quicker when it’s just you and me,” Cynthia said, reclining on the couch. She stared at the ceiling. “It was a good visit, I think, but I’m exhausted.”
“Me too,” Emma said. “Back to normal tomorrow?”
“Yeah, the kids come back to work tomorrow. We have a pretty full house tomorrow afternoon.”
Emma was silent. Cynthia turned her head to look at her. Emma had a funny expression on her face.
“What is it?” Cynthia asked.
Emma did not respond. Cynthia sat up and looked at Emma’s expression more closely. She seemed to be focusing on something in the distance that wasn’t there. “Emma? You okay?”
Emma turned her gaze to Cynthia but remained silent. Cynthia noticed that the side of Emma’s face seemed to be drooping. A coworker back in Portland had suffered a bout of Bell’s Palsy, and she sort of looked like that. Face… face… fast! Cynthia suddenly remembered something she had learned when she took a first aid course a long time ago. “Emma, I want you to raise your arms over your head. Can you do that for me?” she asked.
Emma lifted both hands over her head. FAST… face arms S—what was S? Oh! Speech! “Emma, please repeat after me, ‘The sky is blue.’”
Emma opened her mouth but she didn’t say anything. Cynthia saw a look of deep concern in Emma’s eyes. Cynthia grabbed the cordless from its charger and called 911. She waited while it rang. Come on! Come on!
“911, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“I think my friend is having a stroke. You need to send an ambulance right away!”
“How old is your friend?” the dispatcher asked.
“Um, seventy-five. No! Wait! Seventy-six!” Cynthia replied. She felt relieved that she had remembered Emma’s recent birthday, followed shortly by the realization that it made no difference whether she was off by a year in her reply.
The dispatcher said the address of the inn and asked if that was accurate.
“Yes, that’s right. Except it’s called the Phillips House now, but that’s the right address.”
“And what is your name?”
“Cynthia.”
“And your friend who is having problems?”
“Emma.”
“Okay, Cynthia. I’m going to ask Emma to do three things. Can you relay them for me?”
“Can you just send the ambulance?” Cynthia yelled.
“They are already en route. This won’t delay things at all.”
“Oh, okay. Yes, what are the three things?”
“First, ask her to smile.”
“Emma, the lady on the phone wants you to smile. Can you smile for me?” Cynthia asked, trying to suppress the panic in her voice.
Emma quirked a half-smile back to Cynthia.
“Is she smiling?” the dispatcher asked.
“Kind of?” Cynthia said.
“Are the two sides of her mouth both raised the same amount?”
“No. Her right… wait, no. My right. Her left side is just flat. She is only smiling on her right side.”
“Okay. Ask her to raise her arms over her head.”
“I did that already. She was able to.”
“Just ask her to do it again, please.”
“Okay. Emma, please raise your arms over your head.”
Emma slumped her shoulders and then raised her arms up.
“Did she do that?”
“Yeah. Her right arm is all the way up. Her left is only like three quarters of the way,” Cynthia said.
“Ask her to raise her left arm up higher.”
“Emma, she needs you to raise them both all the way up.”
Emma looked at her left arm. Then she dropped both arms and shrugged at Cynthia.
“She can’t. I think she can’t. She just dropped both her arms,” Cynthia told the dispatcher.
“Okay, the ambulance is on its way and someone should be there soon. Can you go open the front door and turn on the outside light?”
“You said there were three things. But that’s only two things,” Cynthia said.
“Just go open the front door, please,” the dispatcher said calmly.
“Is it safe to just leave her here?” she asked.
“Is she seated comfortably?” the dispatcher asked.
“Yeah. She’s in her favorite chair.”
“She should be okay. Just go open the front door and turn on the outside lights. This is a hotel?”
Cynthia got up and ran to the front door. She opened it wide, leaving only the screen closed. “The door is open, but I can’t turn on the light outside. It’s a motion sensor.”
“That’s fine then, is this a hotel?”
“Yes, an inn.” Cynthia rushed back to Emma’s sitting room.
“Is your friend a guest?”
“No, she’s the owner.”
“And who are you?”
“I work here. I’m her friend. Where’s the ambulance! I’m really scared!”
“They are on their way. It shouldn’t be long now. Are there any pets in the house?”
“No, no pets. We had bats one time.” Cynthia rolled her eyes at herself. 911 does not need to know about the fucking bats, you idiot.
“Okay. Do you know what medications your friend takes?”
“Not really. It’s a lot.”
“Okay, I need you to go to where she keeps her pills. Get a bag and put everything with a prescription label into the bag. You’ll bring that with you for the doctors to see. Okay?”
Cynthia looked at Emma, who looked back up at her. There was a tear in Emma’s eye, which took Cynthia off guard. She started crying. “Emma.” Cynthia swallowed. “Where do you keep your pills?”
Emma tried to speak but no words came. She grimaced and then turned to look toward her bathroom.
Cynthia ran to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. There were a lot of pills. A bag… where can I find a bag? Cynthia dashed back out into the sitting room. There was no bag. She ran to the kitchen. She saw a tall plastic pitcher on the counter. Emma had used it for lemonade two days ago. It was now clean and dry. Cynthia grabbed it and ran back to the bathroom. She loaded it full of medicine bottles.
“Okay, I have them,” she told the dispatcher. Suddenly Emma’s eyes turned hard to the left and her head tilted back. Cynthia dropped the phone on the floor as she rushed to ease Emma back into her chair. Emma’s body convulsed and saliva spurted from her mouth as she choked. The shaking became violent, and Cynthia felt helpless—she wanted to make it stop, but she didn’t know how. The phone was at her feet, and she thought maybe if she could reach it, the dispatcher could tell her what to do. But that would mean taking her hands off Emma—with the shaking she might fall to the floor. Cynthia dared not let go. Cynthia was wracked with indecision, looking from poor Emma’s contorted face to the phone on the floor.
She heard a banging on the door. “In here!” she yelled. The paramedics stumbled into the room with a stretcher and one of them took over Cynthia’s vigil over Emma, as she stopped convulsing but remained unconscious.
Cynthia picked up the phone. “They’re here.”
“I’m going to let you go,” the dispatcher said.
Cynthia hung up the phone and stood by as the paramedics got Emma on the stretcher. The next few minutes were a blur of activity, and Cynthia found herself in the passenger seat of the ambulance, still clutching the lemonade pitcher full of pills.
THIRTY-ONE
Cynthia finished filling out the paperwork as well as she could and returned it to the ER desk. “Can I use your phone?” she asked.
“Sure sweetie,” the nurse replied.
Cynthia called information and asked to be connected to Chez Claude. “May I speak with Claude?” she asked the hostess who answered. “Tell him it’s Cynthia and it’s urgent.”
She waited until Claude was on the phone. “Cynthi
a! It’s so nice to hear from you! Is everything okay? Michelle said it was urgent.”
“Charlie, I need you. I hate to bother you right now. I know you’re working. But… I don’t know who else to call,” she pleaded.
“It’s no problem at all. Where are you? Do you need me to come to you?” he asked.
“I’m at the hospital. The ER. Same hospital I was in with the tumor. And yes, I need you to come.”
“I’m halfway out the door. What happened?”
“Wait. First I need you to go to the inn. I didn’t bring anything. My phone is in my purse I think. Probably under my desk? I don’t know. You might have to look around. The front door isn’t locked. I need you to lock it. I need you to bring me my purse and my phone and my keys. And I need you to lock the inn.”
“Okay, okay. I got it. You’re at the ER and you need your stuff, and you need me to button up the inn. Are there any guests?” he asked.
“No. Not tonight. Emma’s kids just left today. Oh shit! I have to call them. I really need my phone. Can you hurry?”
“I’ll take care of everything. I’ll be there as soon as I can. You’re at the ER?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Oh. I didn’t tell you! Emma had a stroke, we think. They’re doing tests now. I’m stuck out here in the waiting room. It was such a mad rush when the ambulance came and everything. I can’t believe I forgot my purse. And my phone. And my keys.”
“Just breathe. It’ll be okay. I’ll take care of the inn, and then I’ll be right there with your stuff. Less than an hour. Just hang in there, okay?”
“Okay. I should give these people their phone back.”
“Just try to relax and breathe and I’ll be there before you know it.”
“Thank you Charlie. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“You called the right person. I’ll see you soon.”
Cynthia said goodbye and gave the handset back to the nurse, who was not paying any attention whatsoever to the call. She started walking laps around the waiting room. She didn’t want to sit down. She felt naked without her phone and her purse. She felt like a tiger in a cage. She couldn’t stop moving. People were watching her. She didn’t care. She needed Charlie.
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