by Megan Rose
Lacey stood in the middle of it all, her hands clutching her hair and her face a deep shade of red. Just as Mark was about to ask what happened, she screamed out of frustration.
“It’s like they don’t want you to partake in their culture!” She looked like she was literally ripping her hair out of her head and Mark went over to her.
“Lacey, calm down.” He tried to move her hands but they stayed there, like they were glued in place. She had little episodes like this every once in a while, and they were always about something nonsensical. It didn’t matter, though. It might as well have been a matter of life and death. And although some people might think it was funny for someone to become so dramatic over something so simple, Mark knew it was really sad. She couldn’t control it. He hated seeing her like that.
“No, Mark, no! This is not okay!” She gathered about six chopsticks and held them up. “Look at these! These are not utensils! They’re sticks! Okay? STICKS! How are you supposed to eat anything with a stick? ‘Hold it like you hold a pencil.’ Okay, well maybe some of us don’t hold pencils the right way! Maybe some of us need a gripper! Maybe some of us aren’t PERFECT!” She threw the chopsticks hard at Mark, who nearly got poked in the eye.
Lacey took a few steps toward the food and slipped on a chopstick. She fell onto her back. “Oh no. Oh no you don’t!” She lunged toward the chopstick, picked it up, and tried to break it in half. “Okay, you know what? Why don’t they pick one? Either Chinese people can use chopsticks or they can chop wood in half with their bare hands. Not both. Give someone else a chance to chop wood with their bare hands – someone who can’t use a chopstick for anything else!”
“Lacey, Chinese people don’t just know how to chop wood in half. You have to learn karate...which isn’t even Chinese.” He heard her literally growl at him and took a step back.
“Fine! Don’t break!” she yelled at the chopstick then chucked it against the wall, where it snapped in half. “Oh,” she started laughing. “That’s real funny. Real funny.” She let out another scream of frustration and tears sprang from her eyes.
“Lacey.” Mark carefully knelt down next to her and pulled her in for a hug. She didn’t hug him back; she just sat there and breathed heavily. Mark could feel her heart going a million miles a minute and then felt tears splash onto his shoulder.
“Oh my God, Mark,” she said and started to sob. “I think I really am crazy. I’m yelling at chopsticks.” She cried and chuckled at the same time.
“You’re not crazy,” he said. “You have a medical condition. There are chemicals in your brain that aren’t being regulated properly." He had done so much research on mood disorders he probably knew more than the psychiatrist. At least, he knew more Google facts. "You’re not on all of your medicine yet. It’s going to get better.”
“You know what the worst part is?” Lacey said as they finally separated. “I didn’t even want Chinese food. I just ordered it so I could try out the chopsticks on it. I figured it’d be easier than using them with American food.”
“Come on, let’s go out and get something to eat.” Lacey had already changed into her pajamas, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to go out in them. “Go to the bathroom and wash up, and I’ll put all of this in the fridge. We’ll get something you eat with your hands.”
“That sounds good.” She sniffed and stood up. Mark stopped for a minute and wondered, in horror, what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived home during her breakdown.
✽✽✽
About a week later, Mark was getting ready to leave his shop for the day around 4:30. He had plans to take Lacey out to eat (since he hadn’t seen her eat more than about three crackers and half a Snickers in two whole days), and he was going to ask if he could go to Mayra’s wedding with her. Just as friends. He figured they’d technically be hanging out together all night, and he knew she was sensitive about not having a date, so he thought it would be nice if he asked her.
He was a little bit concerned about what her reaction would be, seeing as she always seemed to surprise him with her little outbursts. He hoped she would just take this how he meant it, though. They were just two friends who didn’t have dates, so they were going with each other. Surely if he said that she couldn’t get upset, right?
Pulling the door to the salon open, Mark heard the sound of wooden chimes ring through the air. He guessed that was Lana’s newest installation. He assumed she had it there so she could attack – um, greet – whoever came into her store. The door opened a millimeter, setting off the chimes, and Lana was there within the next second, helping Mark into the salon.
“Mark! What can I do for you? Do you need a haircut? We’re pretty booked, but I’m available.” She blinked one-too-many times and took a step closer to him.
“Actually, um, no.” He took a step back and hit the glass doors that were closed behind him. “I just came to pick up Lacey. I’m going to take her to dinner.” Lana’s mouth fell flat into a straight line and she moved a few steps back. Mark pushed himself off of the glass so he was standing a foot or two in the store.
“Lacey works part-time now,” she sneered. He had a feeling if she had glasses she would be pushing them up her nose right now, illustrating her condescension. “I would have thought you’d know that, but I guess you’re not as close as you thought, hmm?” She took a step closer again, and this time Mark slid to the side, so she couldn’t back him into the glass. Of course now he had just backed himself into a corner.
“I know she works part-time now,” he said, growing impatient, “but she usually stays as late as possible to talk about Mayra’s wedding.”
“Oh, well she got some call today towards the end of her shift. Some friend from California is coming to visit and she got all excited. I’m not sure who it is, but whoever it is must be important, because she ran out of here at 3:30 like her flat little butt was on fire.” Lana smiled and scrunched her nose. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. Since Lacey’s busy, why don’t we go out and grab something to eat and we can talk?”
“Um…sorry, Lana. I think I’m going to go find Lacey.” Usually when she ran off to go do things spur-of-the-moment, it didn’t end well. “Maybe we can get together another time. Thanks,” he said and he pushed through the doors before she could whip out a table and chairs and say, “But I just happen to have a five-course meal waiting right here!”
Mark wasn’t conceited, but he could tell she liked him. He wasn’t sure if she liked him because she wanted to bother Lacey or if she just liked him for him, but either way it was annoying. She was kind of mean, and Mark didn’t like her.
✽✽✽
Mark got to Lacey’s apartment and reached for the doorknob. He guessed he would have to sit through a big explanation of who this friend was and why she was such a big deal, but really he just wanted to talk about the wedding. He’d let her go first, though, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to pay attention to what he was saying.
As he opened the door, he heard music coming from the bathroom. He took a few steps down the hallway then heard Lacey, who must have been in the shower, sing at the top of her lungs, “Man! I feel like a woman!” Mark stifled his laughter and then stopped trying to be quiet. Her music was so loud there was no way she could hear him.
She kept singing and Mark, feeling slightly creepy, stood there listening. She actually had a nice voice. If she would just turn the music down a bit he could hear her better.
Suddenly, the singing stopped and all Mark heard was the girl on the recording. That was followed by a massive coughing fit. It sounded like Lacey was choking. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just barge into the shower and give her the Heimlich maneuver, could he? What if it was the difference between life and death? The coughing got louder and Mark stormed into the bathroom calling, “Lacey!” He heard one last cough combined with a little yelp and a slipping sound. Then there was a big thump and an “Ouch!”
“Lacey?!” He ran over to the shower an
d put his hand on the curtain.
“DON’T!” Lacey shouted and he took a step back. “Don’t you DARE open that curtain! What are you doing here?”
“I…” He looked around the bathroom and saw a half-eaten croissant resting on a shelf next to the shower. “Lacey! What are you doing eating in the shower?! You nearly killed yourself!”
“I think my question begs to be answered first.” She moaned. “You nearly killed me!”
“Are you okay? Do you need help?”
“NO! Ughhh…ow!” Her voice sounded strangled over the music, like she was in a lot of pain.
“It sounds like you need help.” He took a step closer to the shower once again.
“No. I do not need your help with this. I just landed on my elbow and it kind of – OW! – it just kind of hurts a little bit. I’m sure it’s fine.” He heard her feet slipping and sliding around and could tell she was trying to stand up.
“Just wait a minute! You probably broke your arm or something. Let me turn off the water and I’ll hand you a towel.” He looked around the bathroom until he found her phone and turned the music off. “Then I can help you up and we can go to the hospital.”
“Nooooo!” she whined. “I don’t want to go to the hospital! I’m fi – ow!” Mark reached into the tub and turned off the water. He went into the hall where the linen closet was and got a big blue towel and came back in the bathroom.
“Here,” he said. “Just wrap this around you and then I’ll help you up, okay?” She sighed. He held out the towel for her to take and she snatched it from him angrily.
“How long were you there anyway? Were you, like, spying on me or something? Oh my God! Did you hear me singing?”
“Just a little. You sounded good.” She scoffed. “Seriously, you have a nice voice.”
“You can stop trying to make me feel better,” she said. “It’s not going to work, anyway. This hurts way too much for compliments to help. Okay.” Mark whipped open the shower curtain. “Help me up.” She reached her good arm up towards him. Mark tried pulling on her arm, but she couldn’t get herself off of the ground, so he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her up that way.
“Okay,” he said as he helped her step out of the tub, “let’s go.”
“Let’s go? Let’s go where? The emergency room? Mark, I can’t just show up in the emergency room naked! Give me five minutes to get dressed and put on some mascara and then we can go.”
“Are you kidding me? Mascara? How are you going to get dressed anyway? You only have one good arm.”
“I’ll pull a Tim Gunn,” she said.
“What?” Mark wondered if maybe she hit her head too.
“I’ll make it work.” With that, she walked into her bedroom, still dripping wet, and shut the door.
✽✽✽
Twenty minutes later, Lacey was dressed in a T-shirt and sweat shorts, her freckles were faint underneath her foundation, and her eyelashes were nice and voluminous.
“Okay! I’m ready!” she said as she emerged from her room. Mark rolled his eyes. Honestly, did he think she was going to go out without any makeup on?
“Come on, let’s go,” he said. Mark helped her get into his truck and they drove to the hospital. They sat in the emergency room for 15 minutes, filling out forms. (Mark filled them out, as Lacey’s right arm was the injured one.) They finally finished answering all of the (what seemed like) unnecessary questions about heart attacks and blood pressure and mental disabilities. (Okay, maybe that wasn’t unnecessary in her case, but really, why did they need to know?)
“I hate hospitals,” Mark said. “They remind me of when I cut my foot.”
“You cut your foot?” Lacey tossed some hair out of her face and looked at him.
“Yeah, when I was ten. My family was over and we were playing baseball. I went upstairs to grab my yearbook so I could show my uncle, and I didn’t realize the ball had gone through my bedroom window. I ran into my room in bare feet and stepped right on the glass. Had to get stitches. The scar’s still there.”
“Oh my God,” Lacey said.
“It wasn’t that big a deal. It just wasn’t the greatest day of my life. That’s why I was so worried about you when you cut your hands.” He looked over at her. “My friend, Charlie, thought it was really cool that I had a scar, even though it’s on the bottom of my foot and no one could see it.”
“No, I mean oh my God; that explains so much. You’re so neurotic about your feet. You won’t go anywhere barefoot, not even the beach. That makes so much sense. Okay, well you’re a little less nuts than I thought you were, so congratulations.”
“You thought I was nuts?”
“I still do. Just not as much.” Lacey tried moving her right arm and inhaled through her teeth. “Okay, it doesn’t seem to be getting better.”
“That’s why we’re here. They’ll fix it. At least you don’t have to be stitched up.”
“Blech. Hey, can I see it?” Lacey’s eyes lit up.
“See what? My foot? My scar?”
“Yeah! I wanna see it! Come on, show me! I’m in pain over here! I deserve some entertainment.”
“I’m not going to just take off my sneaker and sock in the middle of the emergency room for you. I’m sure they frown on that kind of behavior. Maybe another time, where it won’t be so public.”
“I’m holding you to that,” she said. Lacey’s phone buzzed. She checked it and giggled.
“Who’s that?”
“It’s my friend who’s coming here from California in a week.”
“Oh yeah, Lana started to tell me about that. Who is it? How do you know her?”
“It’s a ‘he,’ actually,” she said.
“He?” Mark looked, what else?, concerned.
“Yeah. His name is Bryan. I went to cosmetology school a few towns over. It was a part of a bigger college. Anyway, he was just so cute and for some reason he liked me. So we dated for the two years I went to cosmetology school, and then he decided to move to California. So, you know, we weren’t going to stay together or anything. But now he’s coming back to visit and he might even be moving here!”
She squealed. “I’m so excited! I’m going to ask him to go to the wedding with me. Don’t you think that would be great? I bet he looks even better now than he did back then.”
Mark had a faraway expression on his face. “Yeah,” he said and smiled. “That’s great. I’m sure you guys will have a great time.” The rest of the time waiting in the emergency room was strangely silent, and Mark didn’t speak again until after Lacey got her bandage and sling.
“How are you going to cut hair?” he asked.
“Oh! I didn’t even think of that! I don’t know.” She thought for a minute. “Oh my gosh! You know what’s even worse? I’m going to have to wear this stupid thing for Mayra’s wedding! Oh, I was so excited for my dress and it was going to be so perfect and Bryan was going to be so impressed and I might have even looked better than Lana and now it’s just ruined! I might as well just wear sweats.” She was on the verge of tears, and Mark took her left hand as they made their way to his car.
“You’ll look beautiful no matter what,” he said. “We’ll find a way to make the sling look good. I promise.” Lacey smiled a watery smile as he helped her into the truck. He was such a good friend.
✽✽✽
Two days later, Mark was in his store making a chain of paperclips while waiting for his computer to finish updating, when a man came into the store.
“Hi there,” the man said and flashed him a dazzling smile. “I was just wondering when that gym is opening up. I’m visiting for a little while and thought it would be cool if I could use it.”
“Um…it might not be open until next year. I want to open it at the same time as the store and right now I’m dealing with a few things and have less time to concentrate on getting everything open.”
“Oh, gotcha.” He winked. Mark wasn’t sure why. “Well,” he said as he made his way ove
r to the counter where Mark was, “I’m Bryan. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, but Mark just looked at it. Bryan. Could it be…Lacey’s Bryan? This buff, dark-haired, brown-eyed, tattooed monster of a man?
“Bryan,” he said. “So, you’re friends with…Lacey?” he asked, hoping that this Bryan would have no idea who he was talking about.
“Yeah! You know her? She works across the street. I was just on my way over. I was supposed to get here tomorrow but I came a day early to surprise her.”
“Well isn’t she lucky…” Mark mumbled.
“Listen,” he said, “do you know if she’s dating anyone? I wanted to ask her over the phone but I thought it would be weird. We used to go out, and I was kind of hoping to get back together with her. The girls in California aren’t so nice.”
“What does that mean?” Mark asked. He put down his paperclips and came out from behind the counter so he was a little closer to this Bryan guy. Well, if he was hoping he would look worse close-up, he was wrong.
“Oh, nothing. Just, you know, feminism and all that runs rampant where I live. I’m more of a believer in the submissive wife, that kind of thing. Maybe that’s an old-fashioned way of thinking, but it’s what I was raised to believe. I haven’t seen Lacey in about four years, but she couldn’t have changed that much, could she?” Bryan patted him on the shoulder. “Welp, I’m going to go head over there and surprise her. Thanks for your help,” he said.
“Wait,” Mark picked up the keys to the store, “let me come with you. I would love to see you surprise Lacey,” he said. Actually, he would hate to see him surprise Lacey, but he wanted to see Lacey send him on his way when she found out what a jerk he was.
Bryan barged into the salon making so much noise that the whole establishment looked up at him. “Hi there,” he said to Lana, who had been talking to Mayra at the front desk. “Before I say anything else, let me just say that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you that before.”