My tense smile relaxed into a more natural one. "Deal. But you do need to tell me what is going on here."
"We're hanging out. And we were having a good time, until I brought up a subject you told me not to, but I was a stubborn, nosy ass and pushed the issue anyway. You had a tiny hissy fit, and now we're all better. We should probably kiss and make up."
"NO!"
O.K. looked hurt. "Well, that was a clear refusal. I guess I'd better get going then." He stood up and went to the wrought iron coat rack by the door. He was trying to get his barn jacket down without knocking off my four hundred jackets.
"No, O.K., that was not what I meant. I meant that I need to know what's going on before any more kissing can happen."
He turned and looked at me, in the process knocking over the whole coat rack. Luckily there were enough coats to cushion the landing. O.K. squatted down to try to pick up the coats that were all over the floor. I went over to help.
"Seriously, why does one person need so many coats?"
We righted the coat rack and I finished replacing all the coats. "I've moved around a lot and lived in a lot of different climates. Plus, in regard to the subject of family that we are not discussing, I have a lot of rebellious behaviors. I never had a lot growing up, so I overcompensate by hoarding now. But stop changing the subject, for the love of God!"
"I don't know what you want me to say Esther."
"Why don't you start with telling me what's going on with you and Melissa? Are you together or what? How does Rob factor in? Isn't he your friend? How could you do that to him? And then how do I factor in?"
"Melissa? Why would you think anything is going on with me and Melissa?"
"Because you obviously had a date with her the night you left me in the coffee shop."
O.K. laughed, closing the gap between us once again. "No, we had a presentation for Grand Rounds that we were finishing up for the next morning. I had to get it done. It was a work thing only. After everything that happened with Rob, I would not touch her with a ten foot pole."
"What did happen with Rob?"
"That's not for me to tell, but I could ask you that same question."
"We went out once. I thought we had a good time, but I haven't heard from him since. Not sure what happened."
"Are you interested in him?"
"Maybe. I don't know. Probably not."
"Are you interested in me?"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"So what did you do when he asked you that?"
My head was down on my desk, buried in my folded arms. I was recounting for Jillian the disastrous details of my date with O.K. "I cannot believe I screwed things up so completely and so quickly."
"Awww, honey, you don't know that you messed things up that badly."
"Oh yes I did. I doubt if I'll ever hear from O.K. again."
"Well, what did you do?"
"I tackled him, pinned him against the wall and kissed him good and hard for a good long while. It was fantastic. Rubbed him up and down pretty good too. Then I felt guilty for accosting him and told him he needed to leave. I pretty much shoved him out the door."
"Oh, that's not good."
"No, it's not. Jillian, I had two dates with two handsome, funny, cool doctors in two weeks and neither one has called since. I totally freaked out in some manner, not on one, but on both dates."
"At least you're consistent."
"Consistently nuts that is."
"Have you considered calling ... who? Who do you want to keep dating?"
"I don't know. I think O.K. is a bit more in my league. Except for when I freak out, we always have a really good time together. Rob is like movie-star, Norse-god handsome. Seriously, I think he was a model while in college."
"Esther, I'm disappointed in you."
I lifted my head and looked at Jillian quizzically. "Why?"
"Judging that poor man based solely on his looks. I would have expected better of you than that."
"Oh, the whole, 'judging a book by its cover' thing? I guess I was doing that. I still don't know. I was kind of instantly attracted to O.K. Probably because he was acting like the knight shining armor to my damsel in distress. Over and over. And his sense of humor. We seem to really get each other. On the other hand, with Rob, it seemed to be more, um, just physical chemistry?"
"Sex?"
"Yeah, that's probably all it would be. But I bet it would be fantastic and hot."
"Really?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "I could tell when he kissed me. It would be like, throw everything on the floor and do it on the desk hot."
"I've never had one of those." It was Jillian's turn to sigh.
"Me neither, but I think Rob held that potential."
"And what about O.K.? What was kissing him like?"
"It was definitely passionate, but in a different way. I don't know how to explain it. Still good. Just different. Comfortable. Like coming home. Like a shoe that fits perfectly." The warning alarm on my phone sounded. "I guess we'd better head into our meeting."
Jillian and I headed into our department meeting. It would be a long, boring hour. I had clients to see and phone calls to make. I didn't need to sit here, wasting my time, listening to Tom, my out-of-touch boss drone on and on about the stuff I was doing already. Nonetheless, I tried to be diligent and listen. But, in spite of my best efforts, my mind wandered. I wrote up a list of songs that I would propose to The Rusty Buckets as additions or substitutions to the song list. And try as I might not to, I thought about O.K. and Rob. I was making a mental pro and con list of the two of them when the meeting finally wound up.
Not like it really mattered anyway, since neither one was calling. I told Jillian as much, after the meeting.
"That's bullshit."
"Jillian! Did you actually swear?" I pretended to be mortified, but secretly it amused me. It was so out of character with her personality. I was a good bad influence on her.
"Yes I did. Why are you waiting for either one to call you? Don't your fingers work? You can call them, you know."
Holy shit, why hadn't I thought of that? My head was so far up my own ass right now because of all the Aster stuff that I hadn't even considered the thought of calling Rob. Or O.K. Or both.
"Which one do I call?"
She looked at me and laughed. "Oh, to be young again and have such quandaries!"
I laughed right back. "Jillian, you're forty-two. You're not exactly over the hill, you know."
"Yeah, but Bruce and I have been married for nineteen years. I missed out on all this wild dating stuff. We've been together for over twenty years. Do you know I've never kissed two different guys in the same week?"
"Well, in my defense, it was the same month, not the same week. And I have to say, also in my defense, Rob kissed me, but I kissed O.K."
"Then I think there is your answer."
"What answer?"
She shook her head, with an amused look. "About which one you call. Rob had to kiss you, but you kissed O.K. You should call O.K. You went after him. You pursued him. I think it must be him that you are more interested in."
Her logic made sense. Why couldn't I see that? We were packing up our things, ready to get on the road for the day. We'd be off in different directions, and I wasn't sure when I'd catch up with her again. That was a difficult part of my job. There was a lot of solo time in the car, going from client to client. We were all overworked and excessively underpaid. I was in my car as much as I was in my office. It made for some lonely days sometimes. The clients and their situations were so dire and needy, that it really sapped your energy. Just having another person like Jillian to commiserate with made a huge difference. I was so lucky to have her to talk to and get her sage advice. I was still playing catch up from my three-week sabbatical, so I probably wouldn't get back into the office during normal business hours until the end of the week.
"I'll fill you in when I have news!" I shouted to her as we were both getting in our cars. She waved, an
d we were off.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I dragged my tired little rear end up the stairs to my apartment. Some days, my job was draining and this was definitely one of them. I was still tired and sore from my neck injury, although it was certainly getting better. At the end of a long day, my fatigue reduced my tolerance for pain, so my neck bothered me more. Today had been one of those days that I hate. I had to remove a child from his home for neglect. The fact that the child had a terminal illness only made matters more dramatic. I hated that I had to remove the child, but I hated that his parents weren't taking care of him even more.
It was easy to see that I had a lot of baggage that I carried from my childhood into my job. Although I couldn't have verbalized it when I was younger, as an adult it was easy to see that we were, to some extent, neglected by Cheryl and Dean. They were all consumed with their relationship with each other and whatever set of beliefs they were touting at the moment. There were too many of us running around all the time for any real structure. We moved a lot, as well. It was probably why I was so transient now. I'd never had real roots. My family was more like a tumbleweed, drifting where the wind dictated.
I only wanted to draw myself a hot bath, pour a glass of wine, and think about anything but work or my family. The tub was running, and I was struggling to uncork a new bottle of Shiraz when my cell started ringing. I dashed across my apartment to find my large shoulder bag, where my phone was nestled deep inside. By the time I finally pulled the phone out, it had stopped ringing. I looked at the display. It was Charlie. I was touched that she was checking in on me. Even though my relationship with my parents was non-existent, and strained with my siblings, I wanted to believe that someone still cared about me, even just a little. I would call Charlie back after my tub, when I was relaxed and ensconced in my fuzzy fleece pajamas.
I put the phone down on the counter and then realized the tub was still running. I went and turned it off. The water was on the hot side, so I could afford to let it cool for a few minutes. I looked around the bathroom for my wine, but it was nowhere to be found. I walked back out to the kitchen and finished pouring my glass. My phone lit up again as Charlie's name marched across the screen. Huh. I had a few minutes before the bathwater would be cool enough, so I answered the phone.
"Hey, Charlie! What's up?" I picked up my wine glass and took a tiny sip. Because of my neck injury, I still couldn't hold the phone between my shoulder and ear, and I found it awkward to hold the phone with one hand and drink with the other.
"Oh, Esther, I ..." she broke off. Charlie was crying. She never cried. This was not good.
"Charlie, what's wrong?"
"Esther, it's Dean."
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks right in the gut.
She continued. "He's in the hospital. They think he had a heart attack."
"Oh my God. What ... how ... when ... what's the prognosis?"
"We don't know yet. He wasn't feeling right and Cheryl took him in about four o'clock this afternoon. Preliminary tests indicate a heart attack."
"What are they going to do?"
"There's talk about transferring him to Rochester—to Mayo—to do a catheterization and then possibly surgery, depending on what the outcome of the cath is."
"How's he feeling?"
"Pretty awful. They gave him something when he got to the ER to open up his blood vessels, and it has given him a really bad headache. He says that's worse than the chest pain. I'm on the next flight there."
A pang of hurt and sorrow gripped my heart. My last words to my father, to either of my parents for that matter, had been in anger. What if those were our last words to each other?
"Should I come?"
There was a deafening silence on the other end of the line. After what seemed like an eternity, she said quietly, "I don't know. You know how he feels."
I was glad that this was a phone conversation, so that no one could see the hurt on my face. Charlie hadn't said that to be hurtful; she was simply being honest. I knew the score, and had for a long time. She was just repeating it.
"Well, thank you for letting me know at least."
"Esther, you know that's not how I feel. I'm thinking that it'd upset Dean if you came."
"Of course it would. Because he wants to see Aster, not me, and I can't do that for him."
"It's not right."
"No, it's not. I know you only have Tristan, but can you imagine ..." I broke off, unable to continue that thought. I didn't need to continue though. Charlie knew where I was going with it.
"Esther, I know it doesn't mean that much because I'm your sister, not your mom or dad, but I love you. I always have and I always will. I wish there wasn't all this drama so that we could all be together. It's bad enough that we lost one sibling. We don't need to lose another."
"I'm not lost. I know right where I am. I can't accept their denial and the hypocrisy."
"And Cheryl and Dean can't accept your honesty and candor. They'd rather keep their heads in the sand."
"But you let them. You allow their foolishness to continue. You feed into it by supporting them."
Charlie was quiet. Shit, I hadn't meant to hurt her when she was taking the effort to reach out to me. "Yes, Esther, I enable their ridiculousness, but not for the reasons you may think."
"Why do you do it then?"
"I'm not strong like you are."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I need their approval. I know that it is silly, but I need them to love and approve of me. I'm not strong enough for it not to matter, even though I know how wrong they are most of the time. I know I should walk away, just like you did, but I'm not strong enough to."
"I always thought I was weak because I ran away with my tail between my legs."
"Oh no, Es, you are the strongest of the lot. You always have been."
I mulled this over for a moment. Quietly I said, "I always had to be. Being with Aster took a lot of strength."
"Yes, I guess it must have. I don't know how you handled her all the time, but you did. From the time you were toddlers, you could get her to cooperate when no one else could. You were like the Aster whisperer."
"But that never mattered to Dean. He only ever saw Aster. He only used me to get to Aster. I know everyone used to joke that as twins we were a two-for-the-price-of-one deal, but I think Cheryl and Dean would have been more content if they'd only had one. I know they only ever wanted Aster, and when she was gone, they couldn't deal. And they certainly could not shoulder any of the burden of having a mentally ill child, so I became the scapegoat. I have been disconnected from the family since Aster started getting sick, which has been half my life. I had to learn to be strong, not because I wanted to, but because there was never anyone there to support me."
"I know. We failed you terribly. I don't know that I will ever forgive myself for that."
"Charlie, you're my sister, not my mother. You've been more of a mother to me than Cheryl ever was or will be, but you still shouldn't have had to provide for me what Cheryl should have. I know you love me, and you know I love you. That's enough."
"Aww, Es, there you go again. You're my baby sister. I'm supposed to be guiding you, not the other way around."
"I look at it that you and I are the bookends and it is our collective job to keep everyone in between upright. I just couldn't keep Aster on the shelf any longer."
"You did the best you could. You did better than the rest of us. And yes, we're the bookends, but shouldn't that have been our parents' role?"
CHAPTER TWENTY
After the phone call with my sister, even a long, hot bath and a glass (or three) of wine did nothing to relax me. I hated the way things were with my family. I hated that I had no communication with my parents. I hated that my father could be dying. I hated the fact that, even on his possible deathbed, he wouldn't want to see me. Seriously, how messed up is that? I knew Charlie was right, that my presence would probably only upset him more. It was good o
f her to call and let me know. I took a miniscule amount of comfort in the fact that Charlie still considered me part of the family, even if no one else did.
I picked up my phone and called O.K. If for nothing else, I needed to apologize again for acting like such a freak. I was usually very even keeled but this whole Aster thing had set me on edge.
"Hello?"
"Hey, O.K. It's Esther."
"Hey Esther! What's going on?"
"Not much. Just thought I'd check in and see how you're doing." Wow, with stellar, engaging conversational skills like that, it was a wonder I didn't have guys crawling all over me.
"Are you okay? You sound a bit down."
"I know you must hate this, but can I ask some medical advice?"
He chucked a bit. "Don't worry, I get it all the time. My favorite is when someone wants to show me a lump while I'm in the middle of grocery shopping. I've actually had to stop people from dropping trow in the middle of Kroger."
"You say people, as in more than one?"
"You have no idea. So whatever you have to ask me, it cannot be that bad. But if you need something that requires you to pull your pants down, I'd be happy to come right over and look."
In spite of myself, I smiled. "No, it's nothing like that."
"Dammit. Maybe next time."
I paused, trying to pull myself together before I asked. "What do you know about heart attacks?"
His voice immediately shifted to professional mode. "That's a pretty big topic. Are you having chest pain?"
"No, no, not me. I guess my dad had a heart attack."
"Oh, Esther, I'm so sorry."
"I guess they took him in and gave him some medicine to open up his blood vessels, but it gave him a wicked headache, and he said he'd rather have the chest pain than that headache."
"Nitro. That was the nitroglycerine. It is a vasodilator and opens up all the blood vessels, including the ones in the brain. It causes a massive head rush, so to speak. But it sounds like he's somewhat stable, if he's able to complain about his head?"
"I guess they're transferring him to a larger hospital so they can do a catheterization and then they'll decide on what happens next from there."
I'm Still Here Page 9