I continued to stare at him blankly. He sat down next to me. "I know I'm going to muck this up saying it, but hear me out."
I nodded, still unable to form words.
"In my experience, sometimes, women—or people," he quickly corrected, "sometimes can over exaggerate situations to make things a little more dramatic than perhaps they actually are. While I certainly believed what you had told me about your family, there was part of me that wondered if you were being dramatic or had a narrow perspective about the situation."
"You thought I was making it up?" I was furious. I was going to rip his head off.
"No, no, no!" he jumped in quickly. "I did not think you were making it up at all. I thought that maybe your point of view was somewhat skewed, being colored by your own personal experiences."
"Where are you going with this?"
"I'm sorry that I thought you may have even had a tiny bit of a skewed perspective, because you don't. Not at all."
"Yeah, what's your point?"
"Your family is really fucked up."
I looked at him and then burst out laughing. I'd never heard O.K. use that kind of language before. It seemed funny that now, of all times, he drops an F-bomb, and it's about my family.
"Yes, yes they are."
"When you talk about how unreasonable they are, it doesn't seem real. It does not seem like reasonable, rational people could act in such a blind way."
"Well, that's where you've got it backwards. They are not reasonable or rational. Part of me wonders if Cheryl and Dean are delusional. Lord knows they've done enough drugs to have a little scrambled eggs up there. Knowing that Aster was bipolar, perhaps there's a touch of mental illness in them as well. There is such a strong genetic component."
"Could be."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching people race in and out of the hospital. I wondered how many other people were going in to visit family members who did not acknowledge their existence. Probably none.
"What do you want to do now?"
"I want to get into the car and drive home."
"Really?" He looked at me. I stared back.
"Really."
"You don't want to see your dad at all?"
"And say what? Hi Dean. Drove over ten hours to see you. Sorry that I'm alive but Aster isn't. Wish I could make it the other way around for you."
"Don't say that!"
"That's what he thinks. And what do I say to my mom? Hi, Cheryl. Remember me? I'm your youngest daughter. You know, the one whose birthday you forget, but you remember my dead twin's?"
"You're not even going to go in and talk to your mom?"
"Nope."
He huffed.
"What was that huff for?"
"I just don't get it."
"Get what?"
"You guys lost a family member. It should make you appreciate each other all the more. Instead, it has done nothing but drive you apart. Do you know what I would give for one more chance to see my mom?"
"I know. I know I should seize this opportunity to see her and make amends, but I'm not strong enough or big enough. I can't take one single more instance of them shitting all over me and cursing me for being the one to still be here. I can't go through it again."
He was quiet for a moment. "You're right. You shouldn't have to. I want to go up there and shake some sense into those people. I just don't understand how they cannot even acknowledge you. Can't they see what a brilliant, wonderful, beautiful person you are?"
"But I'm not Aster, and that is all they'll ever be able to see."
He reached over and took my hand. It seemed like O.K. was always holding my hand or holding me up these days. I didn't want to become reliant on anyone, but I found myself wanting to lean on him, both literally and figuratively. I couldn't let myself though. Hadn't my family shown me that love and dependence only cause hurt?
I pulled my hand out from his and sat up. I would depend on me. I didn't need anyone else. "I'm fine now. Let's go."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. They don't need me, and I don't need them. I don't need anyone." I stuck my chin out stubbornly. I tried to pretend I didn't see the hurt in O.K.'s eyes. I stuck my chin out a little bit further. My arms were crossed over my chest. I would take ownership of that look later, but now I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity. The only other thing I could do to make my point would be to flop on the ground and kick my legs.
"Esther!"
I looked up dully.
"Esther! Is that you?"
Charlie was running out of the hospital toward me. Breathless when she reached me, she panted, "Esther! You're here! You came!" She grabbed me and hugged me tightly. Limply, I hugged back.
"Esther, why didn't you come inside? Why are you out here?"
"I'm leaving."
"No, you have to come in!"
I shook my head. "I can't. I just ... I can't go through it all again. I tried, but I can't put myself through it. Not again."
"What do you mean?"
"I was in there. We—" I gestured to O.K. "—were inside, outside the waiting room. We talked to one of Dean's nurses, Carson."
"Oh, yeah. Isn't he a trip?"
"Yeah, I thought so too. He was going on and on about how Dean was praying for his daughter to come see him. How he had done her wrong. How he had messed up and needed to fix it. It made me so happy. I couldn't believe that he had finally realized that. And then he called me Aster."
"Oh, no!" Charlie clutched her heart.
"Oh, yes. Once again, Dean is holding out hope that Aster comes back, but doesn't give a shit that he has another daughter out there. I mean nothing to him. I mean less than nothing. He doesn't even tell people that I exist. I can't—"
"I'm sure he wouldn't act that way if he saw you. I'm sure he's hurt that you've left him too. You need to go in and see him. Tell him you're sorry for staying away so long."
"Tell him that ... I'm sorry?"
"Yeah. He may give you the chance to apologize."
"I'm not the one who did something wrong. He told me to get out and never come back."
"Well, you know how upset he is about Aster."
"You're defending him?"
"No, I'm not defending him. I just, well, I think he shuts you out as a defense mechanism. It was so hard on him, losing Aster, who we all know was his favorite. I don't think he can bear the thought of losing another daughter. So he shuts you out and pretends you don't exist as a defense mechanism, so that he's not hurt by you not being around."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"No, and if you apologized for always picking fights, then he would probably let you stay."
"Let me stay?"
"Esther, be reasonable. He's not so bad. He's so upset that Aster isn't here. He's been through so much, losing her. Just listen to him, to what he has to say."
I couldn't believe that Charlie, who was the most reasonable out of the whole clan, was defending him and putting the blame back on me. "I'm done listening. C'mon—" I turned to O.K., "—I'm ready to go now."
Charlie's walls were up and I could tell she was now on the defensive. She looked over my shoulder to O.K. "I assume you're one of the guys she's dating." There was spite and malice in her tone. I could tell she hoped that O.K. didn't know about Rob so that she would get me in trouble.
O.K. didn't take the bait. I wanted to kiss him. He cordially extended his hand. "I'm Esther's friend, Kingston Cole."
Charlie was annoyed that he hadn't taken the bait. "Are you gonna make her come in or what?"
"First, Esther is a grown woman, and I consider it disrespectful to talk about her when—" he leaned closer to Charlie and continued in an exaggerated whisper, "—she's right here!" He held one hand up to block that the other hand was pointing at me. "Second, Esther and I don't make each other do anything. If Esther wants to go in, which, with the way you all treat her, I can't imagine she does, she will. Third, I think you need to pull your he
ad out of your ass for a minute and consider Esther's feelings."
Charlie's mouth hung open, unable to form words.
I really needed to kiss him now.
I couldn't remember the last time anyone had defended me. Actually I could, and it had been Aster.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We ran out of steam after only three hours on the road. I, personally, was physically and mentally exhausted from the day. We decided to get a hotel room at the Cambria Suites as we passed through Madison, Wisconsin. It would be the last large city until we reached Chicago, and that seemed like too far to drive.
I thought it would be awkward getting a hotel room with O.K., but somehow it wasn't. He didn't put up a fuss when I told him that I was paying. I suspect he knew that I was not up for fighting about it. I was happy that the room was under $100 for the night and was pleasantly surprised at the cool decor and amenities for such a discounted rate.
We dropped our bags and I flopped on the bed.
"I can't remember ever being this tired."
"I can. It was called residency."
"Do you still work those kind of hours?"
"Good God, no."
I rolled over and looked at O.K., who had sat down on the bench at the end of the king-size bed. "But you are still at the hospital and have a private practice?"
"Yeah, I'm in the office two and a half days a week. I do surgery two days a week. I work one to two evening shifts at the hospital and then take call every fourth weekend."
"So you had been on call the night of my accident?"
"Yeah, I got called in to come and see you."
"But then the night that we had coffee ..."
"I had my shift then. That was a long day, since I was in the office all day first."
"So you work a lot."
O.K. was bent over, taking off his shoes. I liked the fact that he wore his scuffed brown oxfords with his jeans. As opposed to me who traveled in glorified pajamas, O.K. was wearing halfway decent clothes. Although, since it was now around five in the afternoon, he too was starting to look a little rumpled.
"I guess I do. I don't have a lot else going in my life. I took on the extra hospital shifts after my last relationship ended. I'd rather be busy working than home by myself or out bar-hopping, trying to prove how young and virile I am."
"So if you were in a relationship, you wouldn't work quite so much?" Damn, that sounded like I was fishing. Not to mention desperate and needy as well. I pushed myself off the bed. "I'm going to go take a shower." I needed some space before anything more flew out of my mouth.
The hot water felt good beating down on me after such a long and stressful day. At least I didn't have to worry about running out of hot water. As the water pelted my back, I wished that I could shut my mind down and stop thinking. About Aster. About Cheryl and Dean. About Charlie. About O.K. Mmm ... O.K. Oh God, O.K. was on the other side of the door. What was going to happen tonight? He had been nothing but a perfect gentleman. Would he make a move on me? Would I make a move on him? Was I ready to enter into a relationship at this point? Did he want a relationship? I knew I didn't want a casual fling. Those were too draining. If I was going to put effort in, it would be for a real relationship. After all, I was thirty-one. I already had a failed marriage. I had no family. I wanted to find a life partner, not just someone to roll in the hay with.
Lost in my seemingly endless train of thoughts, O.K. scared the bejeezus out of me when he started banging on the door. "You okay in there?"
I stuck my head out of the shower. "Yeah, fine. Just finishing up." I turned off the water and looked at my pruney hands. I guess I had been in there a while. The bathroom was like a steam room. With my luck, I would probably set off a smoke alarm when I opened the door. I turned the fan on, dried off, and liberally lotioned up my body, which was now dried out from the shower. I brushed my teeth, as I feel compelled to do after every shower.
I hadn't planned on spending the night with O.K. when I packed. Hell, at that point, I hadn't even realized he was planning on coming with me. As a result, I had packed the pajamas of a lonely single woman. Penguins adorned the bubble-gum pink fleece bottoms. The long-sleeve, fitted gray t-shirt likewise had a penguin on it. At least the bottoms were low rise and fitted through the hips. While I certainly wouldn't consider them sexy, at least they weren't frumpy. I decided to put my bra back on though, because the t-shirt was a bit on the flimsy side. Plus, at my age, the girls could always use a little support.
I quick finger combed through my hair, applied some anti-frizz product, and I was finally ready to face O.K. again. I had no makeup on. My hair was wet. I was wearing ridiculous pajamas. It never occurred to me that O.K. might be hungry and want to go out to dinner or get something to eat.
"I guess you're planning on staying in tonight then?"
I looked down at my outfit. He was sitting on the bed, watching the news on television. "You know, I didn't even think about it. What time is it?"
"It's almost six."
I laughed. "My clock is all off. I feel like it's midnight."
"Understandable. It's been a long day."
I sat down on the bed next to him. Well, it was a king-size bed, so we could have fit about four other people in between us. "You can say that again."
"It's been a long day."
I smiled and playfully whacked him. "I can get changed again, so we can get something to eat."
"No, you look comfortable. Why don't we order in and eat here?"
"Sounds perfect. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"No, not at all."
We poured over the menu. I ordered a steak while O.K. ordered a burger. We got a bottle of wine, since we both agreed that a bottle of beer each probably wouldn't be enough on a night like tonight. O.K. hopped in the shower while waiting for the food to arrive. He was done in about a nanosecond. He came out in gray sweats and an Ohio State t-shirt. His hair, which he'd gotten cut since our disastrous date, was still wet, and he had shaved. The aroma of nice aftershave drifted off him. I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of him.
I looked down at my pajamas again. I felt like an idiot. "If I had known you were accompanying me on this trip, I would have packed better pajamas."
"They're, um, interesting. Penguins?"
"I like penguins. Penguins are cute. They're birds that persevere even though they can't fly. I used to want one for a pet."
He laughed. "Really?"
"Yeah, I'd have dreams that I would find a stray penguin in a sketchy pet store and bring it home. There was always part of me that was disappointed to find out it was a dream."
He looked at me like I had four heads.
"Oh, come on. Tell me that you don't have weird dreams from time to time."
"Honestly, I don't really remember them most of the time. I think I sleep pretty deeply."
"I wish I didn't remember them most of the time. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up pissed off at someone because they were an asshole in my dream. It was really interesting the time I dreamt that I got into a fistfight with my sister-in-law. We had a family gathering the next day and it was all I could do not to punch her."
"Remind me never to be in your dreams."
"Well, they're not always violent you know."
"Oh really? Tell me more ..."
Shit. Why was I always such an asshole? When would I ever learn to think before I spoke? I was saved by the room service delivery. Although there was a small table and chairs in the corner, we decided to sit on the floor and eat. I leaned back and let the bed support my back.
"I hope you don't mind sitting on the floor," O.K. said, in between large bites of his burger. He devoured it in such a way that I knew I did not have to be self-conscious about eating. He managed to balance his plate on his lap successfully but also managed to drip ketchup down the front of his shirt.
"Um, you have a little something ..." I handed O.K. a napkin.
He laughed, wiping his shirt. S
omehow, using a napkin only managed to smear the ketchup more. "I Berted."
"You what?"
"I Berted. I had a roommate in college, Bert Sandstrom. I'd come home, and Bert would be lying on the couch with like a double-decker sandwich on his chest. He never used a plate. He'd have food all over himself. And every time he ate, he spilled food down the front of himself. Of course, he pretty much always wore white too. There was always mustard on his shirt. So anytime anyone spilled, it became known as Berting."
"I wish I'd known that years before. I've been Berting for a very long time. I'm very good at it." I took another sip of wine. "Especially when I've had a lot of this." I held up my glass in toast.
O.K. toasted me back. "To Bert."
"What a day," I sighed after I had drained my glass. "I just can't, I just, I, I'm speechless."
O.K. leaned over, closing the gap between our shoulders and kissed me. When he finally broke away, he said, "You don't need to say anything."
"Just tell me one thing, and then I'll shut up. Is this more than a random hook-up?"
"I don't normally take several days off work, drive all day only to turn around and drive back for my random hook-ups."
"You don't?"
"Esther, I know this might be hard for you to believe, but I like you. A lot. More than a lot. I have for a while. Every time we went out or tried to go out, things got interrupted. I knew you needed a friend for this. I wanted to be that friend. I want to be more than that."
"Why? I'm such a mess. Even my own family doesn't like me."
"That's their loss. You are remarkable. And spunky. And strong. And charismatic. And beautiful. Did I mention beautiful?"
"You know, I don't think you ever did. But I need to tell you something before you say anything else."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It's not. I can't stand that stain on your shirt. It's driving me nuts."
"Wha—my shirt?" He looked down with a confused look on his face.
"Yes, your shirt. I can't stand it. I can't handle your Bert. You need to take it off. RIGHT NOW." I grinned at him.
I'm Still Here Page 12