Mom lay in the hospital bed, resembling a shriveled, featherless bird. Her skin was pasty pale. No makeup hid her flaws or wrinkles. Her hair was still in a bun, but strands fell down haphazardly. The only way to describe how she looked was frail. Or, beyond frail, as in knocking on death’s door.
Her eyes flicked open feebly, and she saw Sarah standing next to me. Her expression didn’t contort with anger, but there was no warmth there either.
Feeling silly that I was gawking at her like she was a specimen under a microscope, I took the seat next to her bedside. “How you feeling?” I immediately cringed, knowing how she would respond. Why did I constantly ask her that question?
“How do you think?” came her curt reply.
I tried to console myself. At least she retained some of her usual anger; that might keep the fire going for a bit longer.
“Is there anything I…we can do to make your stay easier?” I motioned to Sarah. My mother hadn’t even acknowledged her. At least my wife wasn’t wearing a fucking pink dress and telling everyone they should pronounce her name Sa-Rah.
Mom motioned to the table at one side of her bed. One of the novels I had purchased for her recently sat there, pages down, the spine sitting up. “My eyes are too tired. Can you read to me?”
Tears began to well in my eyes, but I willed them away. “Sure.”
“You”—she shocked the hell out me by motioning to Sarah—“can I have more tea?”
It wasn’t the best progress, but at least she had admitted Sarah was in the room with us. I wouldn’t have put it past my mother to ignore her completely.
“Of course, Evelyn,” Sarah said without a glance at me, but her body language told me she thought this was a big step as well. Not that either of us pined for my mother’s acceptance, but if we could live without strife, it would be something.
I read to my mother for several minutes before Sarah returned. By the time she peeked in, holding a steaming cup of herbal tea, the patient was fast asleep. Sarah sat down on the other side of the bed, not speaking. We both kept Mom silent company for an hour.
When Dad shook my hand as I said good-bye, I swear he held onto it for an extra second.
Was I imaging all of this? My mother had spoken to Sarah—negatively, sure, but she still spoke to her. My father hadn’t exactly said, “Hey, I’m cool with the fact that you’re a lesbo.” But he had ushered Sarah into Mom’s room and he had said he was glad I had someone.
Jesus! Why did I care?
And then there was Peter. What a fucking asshole.
By the time we got outside, I was worked up.
“A pink dress? Who wears a pink dress to the hospital?” I fumed.
Sarah stood back to avoid my flailing arms.
“It’s early…on a Sunday. It wasn’t like she was out and about and then rushed on over. Nope. She got a phone call just like us, and she intentionally put on a pink dress. My brother’s bimbo actually got out of bed and slipped into a pink sundress to visit her future mother-in-law in the cancer ward. Un-Fuck-Ing-Believable!” I ranted, walking along the curb, following it as though I was in the circus and it was my tightrope. Spying a pop can in the gutter, I attempted to kick it. My foot soared over the top, causing me to lose my balance. I stumbled off the curb and landed on my ass.
Sarah tried to muffle her laughter.
That annoyed me. Instead of getting up and admitting I was acting like an ass, I lay down and stared at the gray sky above. Clouds threatened rain. Passersby threw me odd looks, and I did my best to return a snarky stare.
“Are you done?” Sarah finally asked.
“With what?” I barked.
“Throwing a fit?” Sarah loomed over me.
“No,” I pouted.
“Lizzie, your mother is in the hospital. This isn’t the time to act like a child. You’re mad at Peter. I understand. But get a grip, will ya!”
“Mad at Peter? What’re you talking about? Tie-Fannie is the one who wore pink.” I let out a derisive snort.
“Oh, come on, you couldn’t give two shits about what she wore. You’re mad that Peter swooped in and did his usual Peter thing: acting like he was in charge and super important. He has a wonderful way of making you look like an ass.”
“Does not.” I tried to stop my face from scrunching up in anger.
“Really? Then tell me the real reason you’re lying in the gutter.”
“Gutter!” I bolted up.
Sarah tugged my arms and helped me to my feet. “Come on. Let’s go get some food in you so we can come back this afternoon for visiting hours.”
* * *
That night we had dinner plans with Maddie, Doug, and Rose. I wasn’t in the mood for company.
“Maybe you should go without me.” I tucked my hands into my jeans and stared intently at the floor, searching for an escape route. “I won’t be good company tonight.”
“Oh, honey. You’re never good company.” Sarah lifted my chin with her hand. “I don’t think you should be alone tonight. You brood all day long when I’m at work.” She winked at me.
“Brood—is that what you call research?” I attempted a weak smile, but I couldn’t muster the energy.
“Come on. I need your help breaking the news to Maddie.”
Her face said that was her final word. I had to go, or we’d be heading for a conversation later. And not a friendly chat—one of those talks Sarah said was supposed to be helpful but was actually anything but. I already knew I had shortcomings. Did we need to have a conversation to point them out? I preferred leaving things unsaid; Sarah didn’t. Ever since I almost lost her, I realized that maybe her method was better. Didn’t mean I liked it, though. Not. One. Bit.
My therapist agreed with Sarah. She encouraged open dialogue with my wife. Dialogue. It made it sound like we were diplomats trying to solve the Middle East Crisis. Not that our problems were that severe, thank God.
“Shall we order some bottles of wine?” Rose asked, after perusing the menu of the new Italian place the girls had read about in the local paper.
Their mission to try every restaurant in northern Colorado was starting to wear on me. Personally, I could eat at the same place every night of the week and be perfectly content. Once I found something I liked, I stuck with it. But those two loved change. Mixing things up scared me.
When Sarah’s best friend, Haley, moved to California two years ago, Sarah and Maddie became almost inseparable. Maddie was still reeling from Peter, and Sarah had lost her best friend. Usually, their need to hang out all the time didn’t bother me. But it did tonight. Why couldn’t we stay at home so I could mope and eat a gallon of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream?
“Yes,” responded Sarah. “I’m thinking red. Mom, you choose. You’re so good at pairing wine with food.”
While Rose ordered the wine, Maddie eyed me. “How’s your mom, Lizzie?”
I shrugged. “She seems okay, given the circumstances. At least they don’t have her hooked up to a bunch of machines—not sure I can take that. They’ve increased her Coumadin dosage, and they’re monitoring the blood clot.”
Rose and Maddie gave me sympathetic smiles, and Sarah rubbed my back. Then she turned to Maddie. The look in her eye said, It’s time to tell her.
“We saw Peter,” she said.
Maddie did her best not to react, but she did. I was pretty sure Doug noticed, although he tried to remain unperturbed. What an awkward situation. Really.
“How is the busy worker bee?” Maddie asked in a breezy tone.
“He had to rush off for a round of golf,” I sneered.
Doug raised his eyebrows. I wondered how much he knew about my family. Probably enough. Maddie was chatty, just like Sarah. No wonder the two of them hit it off so well.
“You’re kidding.” Maddie chewed her lower lip, not in surprise but in contempt. “That’s so Peter.”
The waiter arrived and did the ridiculous routi
ne of opening the bottle and letting Sarah’s mom sample the wine. I hoped the process might distract Sarah, but knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t.
Sarah patted my thigh. Then she dove headfirst into the danger zone. “He wasn’t alone.”
Rose’s face scrunched up. Sarah’s mom hadn’t met any of my family, and I was fairly confident she never wanted to. The Petries were not high on many invite lists. They attended business functions, but friends? No. We didn’t have any family in the state. It was just the four of us.
“Really?” Maddie’s face looked curious. “Let me guess…much younger than me.”
I laughed, but quickly tried to pretend I was coughing.
“Don’t worry, Lizzie. I know your brother. Shall we play a game?” Maddie tapped her fingernails on her water glass. “She’s blonde?”
Sarah nodded. Doug withered in his seat. Was he upset for Maddie, or for himself?
“Under twenty-five?”
Again, Sarah nodded.
“Ditzy?”
“She wore a pink sundress to the hospital,” I stated.
“Dear me.” Rose shook her head in disgust.
Maddie wrinkled her brow, thinking of the next question, but Sarah stopped her. “There’s something you should know.”
Doug opened his mouth, and I could see bits of half-chewed bread and wondered if he was trying to keep his mouth busy so he wouldn’t speak out of turn.
Sarah turned to me, as if I should make the big announcement because Peter was my brother. Gee, thanks. I sat up in my chair and placed both hands on the table, bracing myself for the bomb I was about to drop.
Maddie’s face paled.
Rose held a wineglass to her mouth, not sipping it. All eyes were on me.
I cleared my throat. “It seems that Peter is…engaged…again.”
No one spoke. No one moved. Doug’s mouth stayed open. Rose still held her wineglass to her lips. Sarah watched Maddie.
Maddie stared out the window. I wasn’t sure she was breathing, and I tried to see if I could see her taking a breath (without being obvious that I was staring at her chest). Everyone was so still I felt as if we were trapped in a photograph.
“I…” The rest of my words stayed buried inside.
Maddie wadded up her napkin, threw it on the table, and then jumped out of her seat, knocking over her chair. With one hand over her mouth, she dashed out of the restaurant. Sarah leaped to her feet and chased after her. Rose glared at me as if I were the guilty party.
I wanted to joke, “Don’t shoot the messenger,” but Rose’s former threat to run me over with her car popped in my head, silencing me.
Doug stared at the fork in his hand and traced some of the lines of the tablecloth with the tines.
“I think some families are more trouble than they’re worth,” stated Rose, grasping her wineglass, white knuckled, and bringing it jerkily to her lips. Her emphasis was directed at me, of course. I clenched my jaw and remained mute. I had no leg to stand on. I would be the last person to come to my family’s defense.
“I’m not sure all families are that bad,” responded Doug, weakly.
Rose nodded. “Sarah and I get along well.”
“I’m best friends with my sister, and I’m close with my parents.” Doug perked up some, straightening in his chair.
So, that left me. Only my family was fucked up. My brother was the reason Maddie had run from the restaurant like it was on fire.
Rose studied me closely, waiting for an opportunity to dig in her claws. I felt like a fox in a trap. Would she skin me alive?
“Uh, I think I’ll go check on Maddie.” I lurched out of my seat and rushed off before Rose or Doug could react.
I found them in Maddie’s BMW. It wasn’t cold out, but I’m assuming they wanted some privacy.
Sarah rolled down the passenger side window when I approached. I leaned down and patted Sarah’s hand, where it rested on the car. “Everything okay?”
Maddie sniffled. “I don’t know why I’m so upset.”
Her reaction shocked me, but I sensed I should keep that thought to myself. My therapist kept telling me that my childhood prevented me from reacting to things like a normal person. She didn’t say it like that, of course. She used much fancier lingo, to spare my fragile feelings. But that was the gist. My family fucked me up, and I cut myself off from others so I wouldn’t get hurt.
“Don’t be hard on yourself. Your reaction is normal.” Sarah rubbed Maddie’s back. Maddie leaned on the steering wheel. It made me think of drawings I’d seen of torture devices in the Middle Ages: a person prostrated on a rack and then gutted or quartered.
“Peter’s an ass. When I walked out, I had no intention of ever seeing him again.” Maddie’s voice informed me she was barely in control. “So why do I care?”
I was wondering the exact same thing. Why was she facedown on the steering wheel, moaning about Peter marrying some young gold digger? Good riddance, if you asked me.
“Because you’re human, Maddie.” Sarah didn’t look at me, but I wondered if she guessed my thoughts.
What a shitty day. First the hospital, and then Rose hinting that out of everyone at the table only I had the effed-up family, and now Sarah was hinting that I wasn’t human.
Maddie slumped back against her seat, her face streaked with tears and snot. I cringed at the sight. Sarah searched the glove box, locating some tissues and passing them to Maddie, who started to clean herself up.
After a few moments, Maddie opened the driver side door. “Might as well go back in. Poor Doug.”
I followed the two women in, feeling pretty shitty. Fuck Peter! He had messed up this whole day for me. The only person who had been civil to me the entire day was my father, and that was because the man never talked much. He had the right idea. I could relate to that; could respect it, in fact.
Doug stood and helped Maddie to her seat. Why was Maddie so upset about Peter when she had a nice guy like Doug? Sure, he had a big nose, but he wasn’t wearing purple and yellow together.
“Thank you.” Maddie placed a reassuring hand on Doug’s shoulder.
“Can I get you anything, dear?” asked Rose. “Would you like a stiff drink?”
“Thank you, Rose. I’m fine. A bit embarrassed, really. Not sure why I reacted that way.” Maddie smoothed the napkin on her lap.
“Well, the news could have been delivered better.” Rose gave me the stink eye.
Wait a minute. Sarah had started it. She was the one who made me deliver the coup de grace. Why place the onus on me? If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have said anything at all. Sarah’s human need to share had got me into this mess. Maybe it was best to be a robot, like my father.
And how else was I supposed to deliver the news? Would sugarcoating it have worked better? Should I have said, “Well, there may be a chance that the two of them may be more serious than boyfriend/girlfriend…I don’t mean wedding bells, but, oh, okay, I do.”
The news had to be delivered, so I delivered it—at Sarah’s prodding.
“Let’s talk about something else.” Maddie flashed a sad smile. “Something happy.”
“I made an appointment with the fertility clinic to get the process started,” Sarah said, as if that was normal dinner conversation. Did she really want to talk about sucking my eggs out of me and then putting one in her after mixing in some semen to make a baby cake?
“That’s great news,” Doug said. He looked like he meant it, as if he wasn’t even grossed out by the process.
What was wrong with these people?
“When’s the big day?” asked Maddie, obviously relieved that I was now in the hot seat.
“Not until September.”
“Wait. What?” I said, without thinking. The months were flying by and September was just around the corner.
Sarah leaned closer to my ear. “I told you I was going to make the appointment.” Her tone
suggested I shouldn’t start a scene.
“I know, I just didn’t think…”
“Here we go,” said Rose. She motioned to the waiter for another bottle of wine.
Sarah crossed her arms and Maddie eyed me with a look that warned tread carefully. Only Doug had kind eyes. Sympathetic eyes. I was starting to really warm to Doug the weatherman.
“Now, don’t all gang up on me. It’s not what you think.”
“Please, Lizzie, tell me what I’m thinking.” Sarah’s sarcasm shot through me. I knew I was in serious shit now, for the second time that night. And I was innocent. I pictured myself being hauled off by bailiffs. After being sentenced to death, I shouted, “I’m innocent, I tell you. Innocent!”
“Sarah, I’m on board with the whole egg thing—”
“Egg thing? That’s how you refer to our child?”
Oh boy. I wanted to say, “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride,” to help ease the tension, but one look at her face told me that would be a mistake.
I tugged on my collar and took a sip of water, unsure how to get out of this mess.
“I made sure the appointment didn’t coincide with one of your mom’s.”
I nodded, remembering her asking for my mom’s hospital appointment schedule. We kept a calendar on the fridge, so we could keep track of each other’s schedules and avoid situations like this. Sarah started writing everything down on the calendar and there was some type of code that I couldn’t decipher but never asked about.
“What day of the week is the appointment?” I held my breath.
“Monday.”
Whew!
“That’s great!” I thought my enthusiasm would make her feel better. I was wrong.
“What plans do you have that you don’t want to tell me about?”
“It’s not that.”
I heard Doug shift in his seat, and Maddie cleared her throat menacingly. I have been known, in the past, to keep secrets from Sarah. “I just spaced it, with everything going on.”
A Woman Ignored (A Woman Lost Book 2) Page 11