“Thank you,” she whispered in my ear.
I nodded, my throat tight.
Chapter Thirty Seven
When I pulled into my driveway, I was checking my cell phone for text messages. It was noon, and I’d kept my eye on my cell the entire time I was with Zee because I didn’t know how long Drew’s physical therapist appointment would take. Apart from one missed phone call and voicemail from Dr. Stone, my phone was silent.
My hand sweated slightly as I brought the phone up to my ear to listen to what he had to say. I’d skipped my appointment with him this morning, and he knew what I’d done—the Tylenol incident. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could evade him without him taking some drastic measure like calling my parents or the hospital, but I wanted to stay away as long as possible.
In spite of my reluctance, I genuinely liked Dr. Stone. He seemed like a respectable enough guy, not all new-agey and full of bullshit like some of the others I’d seen. But this new life, this new identity I had when I was with Drew and the others was too precious for me to ruin it by confessing everything to Dr. Stone. I knew there would come a time when I’d have to step back and be honest. No secret could go on indefinitely. But the time didn’t feel right just yet. Not yet.
“Hello Saylor, this is Dr. Stone. We had an appointment this morning and it seems you’ve missed it. I’d very much like to reschedule. Could you please give me a call back? I look forward to connecting with you soon.”
That wasn’t so bad. “Connecting with you soon” didn’t sound too ominous. Feeling infinitely better that Dr. Stone wasn’t about to do anything hasty, I set my phone down, pushed the button on the garage opener and glanced up in time to see Drew, sitting on my front porch steps. I stopped the car and got out, my heart pounding, a mixture of joy and anxiety coating the inside of my throat.
“Hey,” I said, forcing myself not to ask the question I most wanted to ask. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Have you been waiting long?”
“Nah, just a few minutes.” He got up but remained leaning against the pillar, as if he didn’t trust himself to walk down the icy brick steps to me.
I stepped up and kissed him on the lips. “Come in.”
When we walked inside, Drew whistled. “I know I’ve seen it before, but man, your house is nice. It’s really noticeable after you’ve spent some time in my apartment.”
I took off my jacket and boots and shrugged. “I like your apartment.”
Drew smiled as he hung up his coat. “I like it more when you’re in it.”
We made our way to the kitchen, Drew stepping slowly and evenly, grasping his cane tightly with his long fingers curved around its neck. I walked just ahead of him, my brain filled to bursting with a million questions about his appointment. But I didn’t want to rush him into it. I wanted him to tell me what he wanted to tell me in his own time.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Sure. Water would be great. Thanks.”
I handed him a bottle and took a seat next to him on the breakfast nook bench. “Wonder how Jack’s meeting with Noah Preston’s going,” I said, when the silence pressed on too long.
“He said he’d text me when it was done,” Drew replied, unscrewing his bottle cap and taking a deep drink. Then he set the bottle down and we watched a drop of condensation slide down its ribbed body. “I had my appointment.”
I waited for him to continue, my breathing slowing down so the noise wouldn’t discourage him or scare him away from saying what he really felt. The only sound was the quiet hum of the ice maker in the freezer. I put my hand on his when he didn’t say anything else. He looked at me then, his eyes moist and pink around the corners.
“It sucked.”
I nodded, lined my fingers up with his on the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, baby.”
It was the first time I’d called him that, but it didn’t feel trite or weird in that moment. “I won’t get it for another three months, but they said I could start renting a chair from them next week. Since FA advances so quickly. Since I’ve deteriorated so quickly.” He shook his head, staring at the sweating bottle of water in front of him. “I failed every single balance test they had me take. It was fucking humil—I felt like a fucking cripple.”
His violent distaste for himself felt like a knife straight to the tender spot under my breastbone. Once, when I was in middle school, I went to a small convenience store to get a snack. The place didn’t have automated doors, and there was a man in a wheelchair trying to open the tiny glass door so he could go in. I rushed ahead, feeling virtuous, and held it open for him. But he glared at me, his cheeks reddening.
“Did I ask for your help?” His voice was deep and low, like a dog that growls right before it goes for your throat.
“N-No.” I felt my face heat up as people inside the store turned to see what was going on.
“I’m not a fucking cripple,” the guy had bit out, turning his chair around. “Fuck you.”
I leaned my head against Drew’s arm and wrapped my arms around him. “I love you,” I whispered. “I love you.” I didn’t know what else to say, if there was anything else to say, in this broken moment.
Drew kissed the top of my head. I felt his stubble caress the top of my scalp.
“What makes it a tiny bit better,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “What made it somewhat bearable was that I knew I had you to come home to. I knew I’d get to come here and tell you what had happened, and you’d understand right away. It’s weird how disease does that, huh?”
I didn’t know how to answer. All I knew was that feeling of self-loathing and guilt began to churn in my gut again. Before either of us could say anything else, there was a scrabbling sound and the front door opened. A few moments later, my mother appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.
She stood in the doorway, staring at me as if she couldn’t quite place who I was.
My palms began to sweat at the memory of the last excruciating encounter with Drew and my mother in the same room at the hospital. “Hi, Mum.” I glanced at the clock—12:30. “You’re home early.”
“Yes. We only had a half day today.” Having recovered her tongue, she tip-tapped her way into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. Then, turning around, she smiled frostily at Drew. “How do you do?”
“Hello, Mrs. Grayson,” he said. “I met you briefly at the hospital.”
“Yes, I remember,” she replied, her eyes moving from me to him, as if she was expecting something to happen. “Saylor’s boyfriend.” She said the last part slowly, as if she was turning the words over with her tongue, really tasting them.
My cheeks were on fire, and I knew the conversation was headed into dangerous territory, even though my mother hadn’t really said anything at all. She hadn’t asked where we’d met, forcing me to recount the lie in front of her. But there was something insidiously sinister about her silence. What was she doing? Was she just dangling in front of me the fact that she knew the truth when Drew didn’t, the power that she could end the only thing I cared about with a few words?
Who could tell? What I did know was that I needed to get away from this—the meeting of these two adults who saw me as two completely different people with two very different truths, and two opposing existences.
I stood up. “We need to go,” I said. “We have that...thing, Drew.”
He caught on right away. “Oh, yeah.” He stood, maneuvering carefully around the table with his cane. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Grayson.”
“You too, Drew.” Behind my mother, the kettle began to shriek.
As we passed by her crafting nook, Drew said, “I really like your dollhouse. It’s perfect.”
We buttoned up our jackets on the front porch. The icy wind whipped through my hair, and a tendril of a curl twisted its way around my neck.
“You were in a hurry to get out of there,” Drew said, untwisting the curl. He smiled and kissed me. “Embarrassed of your cripple boyfriend?”
I stared deep into his eyes. It was meant to be a joke, but I could see the fear there.
“Never,” I said.
I wondered how easy it would be, in this moment, to tell him my secret. To tell him who I really was. To tell him why I’d lied, and why I was with him, to tell him he was the only person who made me feel alive. But he began to walk down the stairs and I hurried to keep up with him, holding on to his arm so he wouldn’t fall. Still, I knew that if he did, there was no way I was strong enough to hold him up.
Chapter Thirty Eight
We were in my car, backing out, when Drew’s and my cell phones beeped at the same time with text messages. Mine said, simply:
Don’t forget our arrangement.—N.P.
As I read mine, Drew said, “It’s Jack; he says they’re home now. He wants to know if we can make it over there anytime soon.”
“We can be there in twenty minutes,” I said.
I was putting the car in park in Jack’s driveway twenty minutes later when Drew pressed something into my hand. I looked down and saw a little guitar-shaped USB stick. “What’s this?”
“Your soundtrack,” he said.
I laughed. “What?”
“You’ll see.” His eyes actually twinkled. I could tell he was greatly enjoying being mysterious.
I kissed him on the mouth. “Okay. Thank you, whatever it is.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling against my lips.
Inside, Jack’s dad greeted me with a big hug. I returned it, tentatively, but it was hard to breathe with his Santa Clause-esque belly pressing into me. He smelled like bacon and cologne, and finally, I pulled back.
“Thank you,” he said, releasing me but grabbing my face in both his warm hands. “You are an absolute angel.”
Drew laughed softly behind me. “So the meeting went well?”
“It went really well. Noah Preston has agreed to take on Jack’s case,” Jack’s mother, Jeannie, said from somewhere behind his dad. Then: “Oh, Dave. Move out of the way so she can come in.”
Dave, still smiling broadly, raised his hands in apology. “She’s right. Sorry. Come in, dear.”
Drew and I followed them down a narrow hallway and into Jack’s bedroom. He was in his bed, sleeping, his head tilted on his pillow, mouth open. His bony chest moved shallowly up and down, as if each breath was only half there.
“He was awake a moment ago,” Jeannie whispered.
“It’s okay. Let him sleep,” Drew said.
We moved back out to the living room where we could talk.
“Noah Preston decided to take your case,” I said carefully. “That’s great. But...can you afford his services?”
“He’s deeply discounting them for us,” Jack’s father said. “He said it’d be good to have a case like Jack’s heard in New Hampshire. Legal precedent and all that.” He looked at Drew. “So you don’t have to schlep all around town doing the petition anymore, son.”
I wished Noah Preston had taken on the case for free, but benevolence belonged in children’s books, not the real world.
“Mr. Preston said you made an arrangement with him so he’d agree to meet us,” Jeannie said. “That’s so kind of you, sweetie, but we wouldn’t want you to put yourself in a hard place for us.”
“No, I promise it was nothing.” I flushed under the penetrating gaze of three pairs of eyes.
Drew had tried to get me to tell him more about my “arrangement” with Noah Preston, but I had refused. It felt like the least I could do, to step out of the limelight and let Jack’s fight be his own. I didn’t want any of the glory. I suppose, too, that some part of me wanted the least amount of things be sorry for when the truth came out about who I really was.
After the visit, when we got in the car, I looked at Drew. “What do you want to do tonight?”
He pointed to the clock on the dash. “Did you forget? It’s TIDD group night.”
“Right.” I felt my heart flutter in anxiety. I forced myself to remember Linda Adams didn’t seem to venture down to the basement very much. And Dr. Stone hadn’t said anything about calling the hospital about me. But just to be safe I decided I’d go up and see her, tell her things were going fine.
We walked in the double doors and I gestured to the stairs. “I’m actually going to go up and visit with Linda Adams first.”
“Who?” Drew paused.
“Oh, um, just...someone my parents are friends with. I told them I’d stop by and say hello. You can go ahead without me; I’ll meet you down there.”
“Okay.” Drew kissed me on the forehead and ambled toward the elevators.
I waited until he got on even though there was no way he could possibly follow me up the stairs. Guilt is a powerful, though illogical, motivator.
I bounded up the stairs, my heart pounding furiously, and not from the exercise. Waving to Shelly, Linda’s assistant, I said, “Hey. Can I go in and see her?”
She nodded, so I knocked on Linda’s door, and when she called out, I went in.
“Hi, Linda.” I wiped my palms on my jeans, thinking, She knows. Dr. Stone called her to make sure I wasn’t doing exactly what I am doing. She knows, she knows, she knows.
But Linda looked up from her computer screen smiling. “Ah, Saylor. I’ve been thinking about you. How have you been doing?”
I fiddled with the zipper on my hoodie, relaxed a little. She was smiling, not a hint of hostility about her face. Maybe she didn’t know. “Okay.” Drew’s face came into my mind and I smiled. “Really well. I’ve met some cool people.”
Linda leaned back in her chair. “Yes, the groups have incredibly dynamic people. Any ones you’re particularly enjoying?”
I knew I shouldn’t have said it the moment it left my mouth. “The TIDD group.” I shouldn’t give her information she might want to check up on. But I told myself to chill. Dr. Stone hadn’t called her, and why would he? I wasn’t in the medical part of the hospital, where I could pilfer supplies or pick up medical books. He had no reason to breach patient confidentiality and tell her about my Tylenol saga.
“The TIDD group—yes, they’re a fun bunch. Young people. Mostly your age?”
I nodded.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying your time with us.” She sat upright again, like she was ready to get back to work.
“Okay. Well, I just wanted to check in, let you know everything’s going well.” I waved and walked out, a huge weight lifting off me. I sprinted back down to the basement, whistling a tune from the Carousel Mayhem CD.
Downstairs, the TIDD meeting had already begun. Drew had saved me a chair right beside him, and I sank into it. Zee was talking about her new wig, a light lavender one with big curls we’d bought at Wigs and Twigs. I smiled at her story, and my eyes drifted across the room. I hadn’t really recognized the person sitting across from me. I’d assumed it was someone new. But it was Pierce.
He was curled in on himself, his skin riddled with large grape-colored tumors in more places than the last time I’d seen him. His eyes had a scary vacant look to them, as if he wasn’t really there with us. His hair was plastered to his scalp because he was sweating. And yet he wore his big outdoor jacket, which just accentuated his hollow cheeks and the chin that jutted out too much. He met my eye and didn’t smile.
When Zee was done with her story, he sat up a little straighter. “I have to get home early,” he said in a voice that sounded like dry stick scraping cement. “But I wanted to invite you guys to something.”
He handed out little envelopes to me, Zee, and Carson. Drew didn’t get one. We opened them simultaneously. There were little invitation cards that said,
You’re Invited
Come Hang Out With Pierce at Sphinx. Say Goodbye. Celebrate His Life. 8 PM Tuesday.
“My mom made these,” he said. “Drew’s singing. You guys’ll come, right?” He exploded into those barking coughs like he had at Sphinx, and when he was done, I noticed that his mask was pink-tinged. Blood.
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything. You know that.” Zee swallowed compulsively and then looked away.
Carson nodded. He didn’t look very strong himself, but he didn’t look as bad as Pierce. “I’ll be there, man.”
Nodding, Pierce got up. I looked to the doorway and saw his mom there. She waved to us and we waved back. Arm in arm, they walked slowly to the elevators.
We didn’t really speak too much after that. Drew updated everyone on Jack’s lawyer situation. Carson said he was fine, though he didn’t look it. And finally, Drew spoke again to tell Zee and Carson about his chair prescription.
Zee punched him lightly on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? I would’ve gone with you.”
“I kind of wanted to be by myself at the appointment,” he said. He was graceful enough to not tell her that I’d known already.
She got up and hugged him.
“I’m okay,” he said.
But he looked at me while he said it, and I remembered him in his apartment, drinking and listening to Carousel Mayhem. I wanted to hold him and kiss him and make love to him at that moment, for protecting her.
I took a deep breath and looked away, wanting to give them a moment of privacy. It was then that I saw her. Linda Adams stood at the entrance to the room, something like half-confusion and half-alarm on her face from seeing me sitting in there.
I jumped to my feet. Drew and Zee looked at me, confused. Pointing to the doorway and Linda Adams, I said, “I just have to go talk to someone I know. Um, I’ll be waiting outside for you guys.”
My heart raced as I speed-walked to the entrance, and with a big grin on my face, pulled Linda Adams by the elbow to the side. “I don’t want to bother them by talking in there,” I muttered, leading her to the doorway.
“Oh, of course.” Linda Adams still looked confused, as if she wanted badly to understand what I was up to. I’d encountered people like her before in my life; people who were so inherently good that they had trouble understanding those of us who were rotten inside. They simply seemed unable to get that we were different than them, that not everyone barfed rainbows and shat diamonds. “Saylor, may I ask what you were doing in there?”
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