Starting Fires

by Makenzie Smith

  “Hello,” I said, sounding slightly out of breath.

  “This is Stacy at Flournoy General. Am I speaking to Juanita Flann?”

  “No,” I said, feeling on edge. “This is Marlowe Duncan. Is this about my father Harold?”

  “Let me check something.” She was looking for my name on his chart, trying to see if she was authorized to speak to me, but I really needed her to tell me what was going on. I was freaking out. “Here you are. Miss Duncan, I’m sorry to tell you this but your father was moved back to the CCU. About an hour ago he suffered some complications.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked. She started speaking very medically, and it all went straight over my head. “Can I speak to Dr. Jacob?”

  “Dr. Jacob?” she asked. “He isn’t your father’s physician.”

  “I understand, but he’s a friend of the family. Please page him and have him call me at this number.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, sighing and sounding incredibly unsympathetic.

  I hung up and stared at the phone, biting my nails and willing it to ring. Ten tortuous minutes later, it went off. In a scramble, I grabbed it. “This is Marlowe.”

  “Marlowe, I got your message,” Dr. Jacob said. “I’m not at the hospital right now, but I spoke with the nurse.”

  “Can you tell me what’s going on? Should I be concerned?”

  He hesitated. “It’s not good. He seemed to be recovering well, but crashed. I’m not sure what I can say besides, prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. I’m sorry I can’t give you better news. He waited too long, but he still might pull through.”

  “Thank you for being honest with me,” I said.

  Juanita found me leaning against the kitchen counter, still staring at the phone. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Dad…”

  “What about him?” She stood in front of me, panic in her eyes.

  “They moved him back to the unit. He had some complications. Dr. Jacob says it doesn’t look good.”

  Frenzied, she moved around the house, grabbing her things. Within seconds, she was out the door and I was still in the kitchen. I couldn’t move. The numbness had taken over. Would he be gone soon too?

  I needed to talk to someone. My phone was dead, and my charger was missing. Maybe I hadn’t even packed it. The only person’s number I knew by heart was Charles.

  With calmness I couldn’t believe I felt, I dialed his number. “It’s not good, Bear,” I told him. “They want us to prepare for the worst. Charles… he might not make it…”

  “God, I’m so sorry,” he said. “We’ve been trying to call you. I’d hoped it would be better. I know how difficult this must be given… given everything.”

  “My phone died,” was all I could say.

  He was silent, not knowing what else to tell me. “Lucas is downstairs. Do you want me to get him?” he asked, probably hoping his friend would be better at comforting me.

  He would be. But I didn’t want to cry. Hearing his voice would make me break down, and so far, I’d done a good job of holding it together. “It’s okay,” I said. “Let him know my phone died, though. I’m tired and going to bed.”

  “Alright. Take care Bird. Call if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  I didn’t sleep. For the entire night, I kept waiting for the phone to ring, for someone to deliver the news that I was the last Duncan.

  Chapter 33

  The call never came, but neither did sleep. Juanita returned around 4 a.m. without much news. They’d stabilized him. For now. She was crying, a snotty Kleenex in her hand. “They’re doing all they can, but he’s staying in the CCU. You don’t want to go there, Marlowe. It feels like death.”

  I had no intention of going there. Seeing him in the hospital, clinging to life wasn’t the last image I wanted to have of my father. I wanted it to be the one with his arms wrapped around me, and the words I love you whispered into my ear.

  For hours, I tossed and turned in bed, but couldn’t let my mind calm. I felt on edge. My skin felt tingly and my throat felt tight. I kept thinking that I should be crying, but couldn’t. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I knew that when the tears came they would be hard, and body racking, with no one to comfort me. Not wanting to go through that, I held everything in.

  Around noon, a horde of people came through the front door. I recognized some of them as my father’s friends. Years ago, we’d met or I’d seen them from afar. The women brought food. I heard one of them clutching Juanita, “You must be worried sick, and you shouldn’t be thinking about what to eat. Let us take care of it.”

  Some of them actually remembered me, but most only pretended to. I accepted their hugs, but didn’t like them being here. They were strangers. Maybe I was being unreasonable. In recent years, they’d probably spent more time with my father than I had. Still. Their presence made me uncomfortable.

  Because I was supposed to consume food, I did, but it was tasteless and I could only eat a small plate. Afterwards, they called me into the formal sitting room and asked me questions about my life and how things were in Louisiana. I was pleasant and answered them, but mostly just wanted to be left alone. When their questions ran dry and I felt like I’d spent an ample amount of time with them, I excused myself.

  The clock on the wall said 2:30. I didn’t know how I was still standing. Maybe if I slept, some of this numbness would dissipate. I turned towards the stairs as the doorbell rang. Knowing it would be another of Juanita’s friends, I didn’t answer it.

  Slowly, I took the stairs, hearing her heels click across the marbled tile. I was on the second landing when she opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Does Marzy, I mean Marlowe live here?”

  Despite my sleep-deprived state, I raced down the stairs. At the bottom step, I saw him. “Lucas,” I said.

  His head jerked up, and immediately he was through the door. He’d hardly taken a step over the threshold, when I crumbled to the ground, sobbing so hard that barely a sound came out of me. “No, no, no,” he said, rushing to me. “Come here, baby.” He knelt down in front of me, and I crashed against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and weeping into his shoulder. “Shhh,” he said, rubbing my back. “I’m here.” He kissed the side of my head. “I’m here, Marzy.” A hush came over the house as everyone watched us on the floor. Realizing that these people were seeing my breakdown, I clumsily tried to wrap myself around him. “I’ve got you,” he said. “Where do you want me to take you?”

  I tried to answer, but it came out in choking sobs. “Her room is on the second floor,” Juanita said. “To the left. The last door down the hall.”

  Lucas grabbed me under the legs, and stood. As he walked, I squeezed all my limbs tight around him. Awkwardly, he opened my door while holding me, then moved to stand in front of my bed. He kicked off his shoes and didn’t let go of me as he scooted onto the mattress, moving us to lie down.

  My head fell back and I brought my hand to settle on his neck. “I’m going to be all alone, Lucas,” I said through thick tears. “If he dies, I’ll be all alone. I’m not ready for him to die. There’s so much that I…”

  “You won’t be alone,” he said, wiping away my tears. “You’ve got me, and Charles, and Mia, and Wally, and everyone else. I won’t leave you alone.”

  It didn’t escape me that he didn’t mention whether or not my father would die. I think I was glad. At least I knew he wasn’t saying things just to calm me. My sobs eased a little, and I nuzzled into him, resting my head under his chin. “He and I don’t have a good relationship,” I said. “I’d hoped that we could sort some things out before…” I couldn’t finish that thought.

  “Maybe you’ll still get to. What did the doctors say?” I told him everything that Dr. Jacob had relayed to me. “Do what he says and hope for the best. It’s not lost yet.”

  Maybe he was right. “I’m so tired, Lucas,” I said, hugging him. “I
haven’t slept in over a day.”

  He reached down to the bottom of the bed, pulling the extra quilt over us, and then turning off my lamp. With his arms around me, and his hands rubbing my back, I was lulled to sleep.

  Briefly, I woke to the darkness. Lucas was snoring softly next to me, his arms still holding me close to him. Without even a word from me, he’d come. He’d known that I would need him, and just came. Gently, I kissed his neck, thanking him. He didn’t wake but stirred, readjusting his arms and legs.

  My body felt stiff, and I rolled onto my back. Lucas moved with me, going to his stomach and clutching me around the waist. I wrapped my arms around his and fell back asleep.

  The next time I woke, he was gently rubbing me along my side. Coming out of sleep, I knew that he was awake by the rhythm of his breathing. “What time is it?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. Probably around 10.”

  My eyes came open and I wiped a hand over my face. “My plane leaves this afternoon, but I don’t want to go. What if something happens to him?”

  “We can stay as long as you like,” he said.

  “You don’t have to get back?”

  “I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.” My eyes went to his. His hair was messy, sticking straight up on one side. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Seeing his sleepy eyes and disheveled locks, made my heart warm.

  “But Mr. Yudeski said I had to be at work.”

  His hand at my waist squeezed. “Fuck him, baby. If you want to stay to be with your dad, then stay.”

  “What if they fire me?”

  “Do what you feel you need to do. If that’s staying then don’t worry about it. There’ll be other jobs.” I nodded and snuggled into him. After he held me for a moment he asked, “Do you want to go see your dad today?”

  “I’m afraid to,” I said into his chest. “When I saw him last, it was great, and I want to keep it that way.”

  He understood. “We don’t have to go. Let’s get a shower and I’ll take you to get something to eat. Sound good?”

  I let him have the shower first. From the bedroom, I could hear his groans of appreciation as the magnificence of it rained down on him. Chuckling, I called Mr. Yudeski. It was Saturday, but I knew that I’d want to stay at least another week. He fired me.

  Lucas came into the room, wearing one of my robes. It was too small for him, but covered him well enough. I should have gone down to his car for his suitcase. “Where are your keys?” I asked. “I’ll go get your things.” He fished them out of his jeans and handed them to me.

  As I walked through the house, I realized that Juanita wasn’t here. She was probably at the hospital. Another reason I didn’t want to be there. All the things I wanted to say to my dad would be better done in private. I grabbed his small suitcase from the trunk of his rental and carted it up the stairs. As I handed it to him, I said, “I’m fired.”

  His movements halted for a second before slowly resuming. “Are you okay with that?” he asked.

  “I think so. You were right. This is more important to me.”

  “Good,” he said and kissed me on the forehead.

  During my shower, Lucas used my bathroom to style his hair and brush his teeth. As the water cascaded down on me, it was hard not to feel some sexual stirrings. I was naked, and all that separated us was a foggy glass door. He could probably even see parts of me. I realized that we had never showered together. It felt like something we should have done, especially given how desperate and needy we’d been for each other in the beginning.

  For days it went like this. He’d ask me if I wanted to go see my father, I’d tell him no, and then he’d take me to eat. Sometimes we’d go to interesting shops in the area, once even to the movies. And while we were at my dad’s he would dote on me, making sure I had everything I needed. If I wanted a glass of water, he retrieved it for me. If my feet were cold, he brought me a blanket. If I was tired, he’d pull me into him and let me fall asleep on his chest. Every night he’d either cook, or if I was in the mood, take me to dinner. He spoke to Juanita about my father’s updates and relayed them back to me, usually while he stroked my hair or held my hand.

  He slept in my bed, holding me close to him, knowing that I needed to feel that I wasn’t alone, that someone cared about me. Every day he called the bar for updates. Things were going well while he was away, but a few times, he used my computer to make orders and respond to business emails. Day in and day out, he was there.

  One afternoon, I was reading a book on my bed, and didn’t realize he’d come in. When he sat next to me, I startled. He chuckled, and took my hand, rubbing his fingers against mine. “They moved your dad back to the regular unit,” he said. “They think he’s going to pull through.” That’s what they’d said the last time, and within a day, he was nearly dead. “Do you want to see him today?”

  I should. That’s why I was here. That’s why I’d been fired. To be with my dad. “Is Juanita going to be there?”

  “Not if you don’t want her to,” he said. “I’ll tell her to give you some time with him.”

  “Okay,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze.

  We were standing in front of his door. On it was a white piece of paper slid into a slot that read: Duncan, H.

  I’d been staring at it for at least three minutes. I couldn’t open the door. I wasn’t going to open the door. I took a step back. Lucas’ hand flattened on my back, and he reached around me to turn the knob. “I’ll go in with you,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Leaning into him, I walked through.

  My father was slightly reclined in his bed, watching the TV. A daytime judge show was on, and the two parties were arguing over whether or not a tenant should pay back rent for breaking her lease. It was getting pretty heated, and he hadn’t realized that we’d come in.

  “Dad,” I said softly.

  He turned towards us. “Hey,” he said, and then once he noticed Lucas, repeated it more forcefully. “Hey! Who’s this?”

  “Daddy, this is Lucas,” I said, walking with him to the bed. “We met in Louisiana.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking Lucas’ hand.

  “Are you feeling better?” I asked him. “You look better, but how do you feel?”

  He patted my arm. “Much better, darling. Much, much better. They stabilized me. As long as I do what the doctors say, I should live many more years.”

  “I hope so,” came out of me in a whisper. Lucas gave my back a rub, and curled his fingers into the waist of my jeans. I liked feeling him this close to me, and realized that I wouldn’t have done this without him.

  “Where did you two meet?” my dad asked, moving his finger between us.

  “We’re neighbors,” Lucas answered. “We met the day she moved in,” he said, smiling down to me.

  “Yes,” I said, returning his sweet look. “He’s also friends with Charles.”

  “How is Charles?” my father asked.

  “He’s good, dad, but what about you? Last time they brought you here they said you’d be home in a week.”

  “I promise, Marlowe, I feel great. I’m walking around, showering. I don’t just sit in this bed all day. I’ll be home soon.”

  And then we could talk. I could show him the letter, ask him about it and what Juanita had told me. Maybe then we could rebuild what we’d lost over the years. “Are you going to be on any restrictions at home? Anything that I should be getting ready for you?”

  “Let Juanita handle it,” my dad said. “You and Lucas just enjoy yourselves.” It didn’t matter that I wanted to help, that I wanted to feel like I was useful in his recovery. Not noticing my slight pout, my dad resituated himself on the bed. “Have a seat you two.” Lucas and I walked to the small loveseat and squeezed in next to one of his bags. I was nearly in his lap. “You can move that,” my dad said, motioning at his suitcase.

  “It’s fine,” Lucas said, draping an arm around me.

  M
y father’s eyes went to it and squinted. “How long have you been dating?”

  “Um,” I said. “Well, we aren’t-”

  “Nine months,” Lucas cut me off. “Give or take.”

  “That’s a long time,” my father said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone, Marlowe?”

  Because we hadn’t been dating, and I probably wouldn’t have told him anyway. This wasn’t what I was expecting to be talking with him about. “Because we aren’t… I mean we weren’t… Dad. Let’s talk about something else.”

  He chuckled at my uneasiness. “Fine,” he laughed. “You’re so much like your mother. She was the most mysterious woman I’d ever met. The most beautiful too. And you look so much like her,” he smiled.

  A knot formed in my throat. Never. He never spoke this freely about her. Not in years.

  “She’s definitely mysterious,” Lucas said, taking his arm away and leaning onto his knees. He smiled over his shoulder at me. Like he was one to talk.

  “How long are you staying Lucas?” my father asked.

  “As long as Marzy wants me to. I don’t need to get back anytime soon. My bar’s in good shape.”

  “You own a bar?” The two of them fell into a discussion about what type of bar it was, the liquor they sold, his advertisements, how my father thought they could get better representation. By the time they were through, I knew that my father was back to his old self. He seemed normal and he and Lucas talked easily. I left them to grab a beverage from the vending machine.

  As I came back in the room, Lucas was leaning towards him and they were speaking in hushed voices. “Interrupting something?” I said, handing Lucas a bottled water.

  “Maybe,” he winked.

  “Now who’s mysterious?” I smiled and gave his shoulder a shove.

  Before leaving, we watched some television with my dad, talking and laughing through the next few episodes of the Judge’s cases. It was the most unbroken time I’d spent with him since I was probably 20 years old. Even then, it had been clouded by the loss we’d endured.