Nick finally looks up but stays silent. Looking at me, I raise my hand up and down as I continue as he bows his head again.
“Anyway, I actually see Dr. Picany by my side. He is checking my bandages. I tried joking because I was scared. I knew it should be earlier in day. I had at least three blankets on me. I couldn't see a damn thing yet. I asked him, “So did I give you a run for your money like I thought I would?” He rubbed my hand and replies, “You have no idea how much. I need you to rest now.” As my brain is trying to wrap itself around that statement with all these drugs in me. I actually have no reply. I said nothing. Me? I said nothing else. I watched him say something to the nurse. Then he was gone. I tried to get it out of nurse in post op. Why was surgery so long? She only tells me all information was given to my mother. They prefer not to discuss anything until I am fully alert. Well I was alert then and anxious as hell to get to recovery then.
Finally, it was about an hour later they bring me down. My mother comes in trying to kiss me and has a gift. God I was so rude! She couldn’t wait hold me, but she knew the details I needed to know immediately. You would never know this but I am determined. When I need to know something, I am relentless. Good thing you don't know that about me.”
Nick only raises his eyes this time, though I can see a crooked smile cross his face. “Thank you for sharing. I was completely unaware of that character trait. Thank God for your humor. Please go on.”
“My mother was like a deer in headlights at foot of bed. I lifted all those blankets. I saw I was bandaged from neck to pelvis. I had two ridiculous larger than what anyone should ever have or see, tubes coming from each side under my arms. In addition, attached to them are what look like grenades filled with blood pinned to my bandages. I was ready to scream.
The surgery that was supposed to be no more than four and half-hours became seven and half-hours. Bottom line, both implants were ruptured. This was not expected. Left breast did not have capsular contracture. Funny, we thought that was the healthy breast. That breast was supposed to be easy. Remove implant, reduction, lift to try to match the horrible right one. Well…silicone in left couldn’t be completely certain all was out. All in breast cavity was scraped out. Having had no hard significant scar capsule, it can never be one hundred percent certain. Doctor did all he could, but had to make more incisions because of rupture on the left side. I did get completely new nipples on both sides in the end. That is a plus.
Now, well the right beauty. As I said, of course it was ruptured. Why wouldn't it be? Lord only knows how long. This was encased in the capsular contracture. The silicone was all removed with the entire almost three-quarter inch scar tissue that developed around it. Super. Right? I was so enjoying all the news so far. As we anticipated there was absolutely no breast tissue once, the implant and scar tissue were removed. Oh and that breast hardened so high, the pain was due to way capsule pressed against my nerves. In turn causing pain up my neck and down my arm. Positive note, I am pain free. My back is also drastically better, now that I am not carrying those D’s around. You sure you don’t want some wine?”
Nick nods. “Quite sure. Thank you. Go on. Please.”
“You are not tired of this all yet?” I try to be funny.
Nick remains serious. “No. I am not. I would not have asked to begin with if I did not want to know it all.”
“Fine. Your choice.” I tilt my water glass as I take a large chug before continuing. “They had to create an entire new breast, as I knew would they would have. Dr. Picany did so through fat grafting by attacking my belly and hips. I mean I knew fat grafting was going to happen, did not anticipate as much. Took quite a bit to fill an empty cavity to the present B cup you see now. I know you have sized me up since LA.”
Nick stays straight faced and serious. Thought beaten in a way. “I think you look beautiful Moe.”
I try to smile and make this slightly easier. “You’re biased. You are my friend. You can’t say different.”
“Sure I can. I could say nothing.” He has no joking tone.
I still try again. “That I would like to see!’
Nick looks back at me still with no reply. He just looks into me.
“Lastly, as you seem to have been able to see through my tops, I do have two breasts. They are not perfect, but they are as symmetrical in size as they can be. My healthy B cups. I am not the same but healthy. All the bad stuff is out. Back when we were kids, I was a perfect C cup. All my psychiatric drugs over the years, the weight went straight to my breasts. Well okay and my hips and my ass for sure also. I grew to accept those D cups. Anyway, I try very hard not to think silicone has traveled anywhere else. Doctor did say there was a very significant amount removed. He is hopeful it did not migrate. Ruptured silicone can't be weighed to check the cc's they knew from prior records.
Oh well! All I can say about that. I hated those breasts but I used them for so many years. I will need to find a new way, when and if day ever comes I return to actually living, so to speak. Hey, I'm healthy physically. Still crazy. But, we know that is a whole other topic.”
Finally, he half smiles at me. “Define crazy and I will not find one person I know who isn’t.”
“Let me clarify, clinically crazy.”
He sits back now pushing his chair back and stretches his legs. “You are not crazy. You have bipolar disorder. You are far from crazy Moe. Stop doing that.”
“Hey, I found my gratitude still. I got through it all. I reminded myself the moments like all my past surgeries when you simply want to crawl out of the body you are in, there is a child out there fighting a harder fight. They, younger than I, are persevering with tremendous grace and strength. I am certain better than me. The extreme foul mouth I had while I recovered made my grace questionable. Having my mom here to care for me after all these years was another head-trip. Here we were. She and I right back where I was at fifteen. I felt like an unnecessary burden. There was not one single second though she ever said or did anything to warrant such a feeling. She was actually grateful to be here. Sometimes I cannot overcome feeling undeserving and without hope. There are moments those thoughts before me make me wonder who will ever love a person like me? Who else will sit with me on my roller coaster? Twisted, truly.”
Nick is sits up and crosses his legs. He returns with a serious air about him now.
“Do you ever think, because of this illness, you are the strong, compassionate, forgiving, exceptionally gifted woman that you are?”
“Sometimes. Very few. On my sane days, I see some truth in it. I do not believe I would be the writer I am, if this did flow through my veins. However, the writing, the writing stops with certain drugs. Balance. There is no balance ever.”
Dam that same sad look returns to Nick’s face. “Moe?”
I lean forward lifting my hand and place it on his. “This isn’t what you asked me. It is what it is Nick. It is another cross. Probably why God wanted so much titanium in me. My back needed reinforcement! More strength to carry the number of crosses I bare. I am here Nick. I am not going anywhere.”
Nick gently lets me hand go and stands from the seat with his glass in his hand. He stops behind the chair. He grabs the top of the chair and I see the knuckles of his left hand go white. The expression on his face completely changes. “How fast do you drive that car?”
I do not even flinch hearing this inquiry. “Not as fast as I once did. Do not ask questions you do not really want the answers to.”
“Have you ever come close to losing all hope?”
“You mean my demise? You want to know if I ever really wanted to kill myself."
“Yes that is exactly what I am asking.”
I get up from my chair. Nick grabs my arm and points for me to sit down.
I sit back down. "Nick, I know you know the statistics of mental illness. Yes, I have. I’ve fantasized about it many times. Except it is only a fantasy. I love too deep. Death is not about one's own self. Death to me is about those who are
left behind. When it feels like it is overcoming all of me, I call the doctor and we discuss different meds. I talk to my therapist more. I take a few Xanax and bring myself out of that moment. Because they are only moments. Who else is going to be me in this world? I have a responsibility to play my very tiny, tiny part in the balance of this world. Even if I am never meant to have balance I so wish myself.”
Nick comes back around the chair. Whatever reason he got up, no longer matters. He takes my hand in his. Again, there is sadness in his eyes. It is similar to the look I actually see in my parent’s eyes. The expression without words, they wish they could somehow take some of this from me. Carry it on their shoulders. Seeing this in Nick saddens me, but also means a great deal.
He squeezes my hand tight. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by your part?”
“I may not have balance in my own life. The way I survive my reflection is a rather simple principle. I’m sure you have heard the tale of when one life passes, an angel sings and a baby’s first cry of life is heard.”
“Yes, I have heard something like that.”
“That is balance. I convinced myself a long time ago, a theory I am certain quite mad, but works for me. I was given this life, so someone else’s life is pure joy. Mind and body. That stranger receives every hope and every dream, every second of health. They are worthy. I am not saying I am the martyr. I think you see I have not lived that way. It is however, how I cope. How I know it is all right for me to be as I am. Who I am.”
Nick holds me tight as he looks down. In doing so, he shakes his head repeatedly. He is possibly finding me crazier for this logic. It is actually alright with me. It is my coping mechanism.
Finally, he lifts his head and meets my eyes. “That is how you honestly feel? Oh God Moe, that is not true.”
“It is what I believe to be true. It is a positive way to cope with the unfairness and wickedness of life. Life is all about perception. One’s perception does not always equate to truth, but it most certainly is one’s individual truth.”
Nick shakes his head again. I confuse men. The sadness in his deep brown eyes always strikes me. I know Nick in all his controlling ways, wishes he could make this all go away. Even with all his resources, this he cannot. If only life were that simple.
I want us to move on from this. “That my dear friend is your Bertha’s whole boob story. Well, and my life’s principle you didn’t even ask for. In the event you pursue a sequel to the presently successful novel.”
“You are such a dick.” Nick is smiling again. I am relieved.
I smile too. “I am not a dick. I am little tits. Different part of my anatomy. It is rather funny how I was a 34 full C at sixteen. You had a thing for those breasts. God, I wore bra’s showing them off in clear view back then. My tops were almost opened to my belly button. My personal favorites were two size two small men's suit vests. It was fashion, Lord only knows why. If I recall, you did catch quite a few feels.”
“I did. I also recall being hit every time after. Honestly, I was more fascinated by them, than had a thing for them. They weren’t a real part of you. I looked and wanted to touch them because I wondered more who you would be without them.”
I get up for more water we have finished the pitcher. You would have thought it was vodka based on our conversation. I open my arms, and pull my shoulders back as I do, pushing my breasts forward. “Now you know! If only science had been different all those years ago and fat grafting was used rather than implants. Anyway, still not clear if these nipples work. Don’t let constant erect state fool you. No idea of any sexual feeling? Have not really wanted or had a chance to test them out. No desire. Seems my manic behavior after Ben has changed. Hey it is a plus side I am no longer a whore!” I sit back down with my full glass in hand.
Nick is quick to respond. “I could help you with that you know.”
“I am fine. Thanks.” I say with a wink.
“They do look purty.”
“You are the asshole.”
“Moe, you realize I really don’t know how else to be. I hate all of this. I hate all you have gone through. No, it is not cancer, but this is your life Max. Your stress, problems, illness, adversities for that matter. They are as relevant as anyone else’s is. No one life or problem is more or less important. We each simply have different ones. Yours, I wish you had none of them. I am glad this is behind you. All of this."
“I am working on it. I still have my issues. I’m sure I see someone different than you see. Trouble is, one day I am going to seek to try to use this body with confidence again. I am not sure I am going to find the woman who was there before.”
“Maybe you aren’t supposed to find that same woman again?”
“Maybe.” I now wish my water were vodka.
Nick then slaps his hands down on the table. "How about, I clean up? You let me know where some blankets are for outside. I will make some espressos. Start the fire and give you a little space?"
I am again puzzled. "Who are you?"
"I don't know but run with it. Please."
I'm on my feet pointing at him. "I actually will. Blankets are outside. Pantry closet out to your left. Everything for the espresso’s is in the drawer beneath the machine. The pantry outside I also have wood sticks to roast the marshmallows. Be sure to wet them."
"Really?"
I tilt my head as I respond with a childlike grin. "S‘mores I have not. Marshmallows on the other hand, we have a secret love affair at times. Thank you for offering to clean up. The dishwasher is empty. Just throw everything in." I begin to head for my bedroom.
Nick yells as I do. "Do I comment on how little you ate?"
I turn back around, only at the foot of the hallway. We are looking dead at one another.
"Would you prefer sleeping in my car, rather than the couch?"
"Actually..."
Nick's smile. The same one that always found me the second ‘Just Like Heaven’ began. He would drag me to the center of the dance floor pushing everyone out of the way. It is too hard not to smile back. Whoever he is trying to be or has become is really pleasant and safe to be around.
"You're impossible Nick."
"Would you have me any other way?"
"No. No I would not." I turn back away.
Chapter Seventy
Reaching my bathroom, I walk straight into my shower. I want it scorching. I step out of my clothes and grab a towel from the closet. What is wrong with me? I had the perfect opportunity to ask about Ben and I didn't? How does he do it? Always! Somehow, I need to ask him something, next thing I am baring my soul about something else. The Xanax had kicked in but no longer feels enough. I should reconsider the espresso. I will never sleep, if my mind even intends to allow it for the briefest of time. Maybe a half-caff coffee will do the trick. I yell to Nick.
"Nick! No espresso for me! I need to try to sleep later! There are half regular, half-decaf k-cups. Just coffee for me."
"Sure."
Why does he sound so close? Oh God what is he up to now? "Where are you?"
"In your closet. Looking to see if you have something to wear tomorrow night. Do you even have a clue how much is here? How much with tags still on it?"
"Nick get out of my closet! Boundaries, remember."
"I already found what I want you to wear."
Next thing I realize he is at my bathroom doorway. Holding up a nude halter embroidered dress. Manic purchase. I am not even certain it will fit. I guessed my size. It is sexy and elegant. I had to have it. It wraps at the neck to hold the halter portion, then crisscrosses to tie around the waist baring one’s entire back. It made me think of the movies. The moment the leading actress comes out to meet the love she never realized and she takes his breath away. The moment you melt yourself and wish you could do the same. Be the same woman, so familiar to someone yet still stop him in her tracks. That is this dress. Movies are not reality. Same as the chance of me baring my back scar. That dress is fantasy. He is more ou
t of his mind than I am.
“Nick, please! I am in the shower. What happened to giving me a little space? Get out and, I am not wearing that. I don't even know if it will fit. Besides it has no back!"
"First of all I was giving you space. You yelled for me! I had full intention of not bothering you and rummaging through your closet without your knowledge. Second, I can't imagine how hot that water is. Everything is steamed up. I could see more of you with your clothes on than I can see now. So if you did wear panties or a bra for that matter, no need to get them all in a bunch. Third. This dress is absolutely going to fit you. You are wearing this. I am slightly disappointed or maybe grateful, I am not completely certain? Anyway, first I searched for something black. Dam Max the black, with silver heels that lace up! Well I think I may have climaxed slightly imaging you in them."
"I meant to throw those away. Now, get out!"
"Fine I am going. This is the dress Moe!"
"Get out!" A knife pierces my heart. Needing to keep my balance, I lean against the shower wall. Like rain, the water continues to cover me. I hold my tears in. Will it ever stop feeling so raw? Those heels, I forced them from my mind a very long time ago. I can't think of them, especially that morning. I will collapse if I do. Forget the coffee. I need more Sangria. I quickly wash my hair and get out. I need to be brave. I need to know what Ben’s present is, not our past. Our past is only that now. The past. Part of me longs not to love him as I do. As I know, I always will.
Well, that shower did not end up feel as refreshing as I hoped. Shit, what do I put on now? What won't get me in trouble? I push my wet hair back with a simple headband. I decide I had better wear something underneath now. I grab a thong stepping in quickly. I grab the first nightgown from my top drawer. I love Calvin Klein. Nightgown sounds so old fashioned. It is long, it’s nighttime and I do sleep in it? I don't know. Bottom line it is comfortable as hell. This should be safe. It has a high scuba tank neck and it is straight to the floor. No skin except arms. This cannot get me in trouble. I slip into my flip-flops and head toward the kitchen. Nick changed also. He is in sweatpants and a fresh tee shirt. He has my teakettle on the stove with his back to me.
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