She considered calling Larry, but they weren"t advanced in their relationship enough yet for her to feel comfortable asking him to come over and take care of her.
Her nose running like a faucet, she sat with her box of Kleenex on her sofa and watched some daytime shows while waiting for Bonnie to get there. She didn"t remember much about the shows afterwards, and only remembered random images of Bonnie finally arriving with some cough syrup.
After that, she dozed, experiencing bizarre dreams about a young, collegeage Frank crashing Miles" birthday party, where he and a full-grown adult Jermaine joked and played cruel tricks on her.
Bad acid trips—that"s what her dreams must be like. At least, they were the closest she ever wanted to get to one. For a while, the persistent knocking at her front door blended in with all the other weird sounds and images scraping through her mind. Then the concern in a familiar voice finally cut through her painful fog. She rolled off the sofa and staggered to the door.
She unlocked the door and swung it open with her head bowed and eyes closed, almost hoping it was an armed burglar who would finish her off with a merciful gunshot to the head.
“I"ve been calling you since one-thirty, girlfriend. You had me worried.”
Celeste opened her eyes. Shauna, still dressed for the call center, stepped inside and, a concerned expression twisting her features, pulled Celeste"s arm over her small shoulders and walked her back to the couch.
They had a conversation, of sorts. Celeste couldn"t remember all of Shauna"s questions or her own answers, but she remembered her friend"s hand on her forehead…being shifted around on the couch…pillows propped under her back and neck…layers of blankets being tucked around her…
Shauna disappeared into the kitchen for a while and returned with some scalding hot soup, which she spoonfed to her so Celeste didn"t need to take her hands out from under the blanket. After forcing her to finish the soup, Shauna forced her to take two more spoonfuls of the foul-tasting cough syrup.
Celeste dozed off and on, awaking to see Shauna keeping vigil by her side. She caught snippets of TV shows: Oprah and Tyra and Martha Stewart all merging into a three-headed Medusa. Once she imagined seeing Miles walk in her door with a grocery sack, from which Shauna pulled more medicine, a thermometer and other items.
That night was even worse than the first. Her temperature see-sawed between violent chills and burning, unstoppable sweats. Once she stirred, staggered to the bathroom and, in a rare moment of coherency on her way back to the sofa, she noticed Miles and Shauna on the floor, spooning under a blanket in their sleep, flickering blue light from the television playing over the contrast of their hands and faces.
They were a beautiful couple, she remembered thinking.
Miles left some time before sunrise, but Shauna was still there when Celeste stirred the next morning.
“Why are you still here?” Celeste croaked. “You"ll be late for work.”
Shauna shushed her, gently wiping her face with a damp rag. “Do you feel strong enough to make it to your bed?”
“I guess so.”
“I think you"ll rest better there,” Shauna said. “More than a day on this sofa and you"re going to be hurting.”
“I"m already hurting,” Celeste whined. “All over.”
“I know,” Shauna said, soothingly. “C"mon. Let"s get you comfortable.”
Once again, with Celeste"s arm draped over her shoulders, Shauna escorted her to the bed.
She was right, too—the clean cool sheets on a surface she could easily change positions on were a small window of comfort in the miserable landscape of her existence right then.
She awoke in the middle of the day, damp with the sweats and still aching all over, but her mind was clear for the first time in a while. Beside the bed, in a cushioned chair, Shauna lifted sleepy eyes from the home medicine book in her lap to check on her patient.
“Did you take off work to stay with me?” Celeste asked.
“Yes. How do you feel?”
“Like hell. But at least my brain seems to be functioning again.”
“I think you caught that bug Miles had a month ago,” Shauna said, feeling her forehead. “It laid him out. Nasty. It doesn"t let go easy, either.”
“Did I see him here last night, or did I imagine that?”
Shauna smiled, slipping the thermometer into Celeste"s mouth. “I had him bring over some supplies. Do you think you can handle some food?”
Celeste made a face but said, “I guess so.” She didn"t have an appetite, but knew her body needed fuel.
“Tell you what,” Shauna said. I"m gonna give you some medicine and some orange juice. Wipe that look off your face. OJ is full of vitamins and good for you.”
“It"s all scratchy!” Celeste whined.
“Then you"re going to drink a little bit of soup,” Shauna continued. “And if you don"t give me any attitude, I"ll have a treat for you.”
What am I, a child, Celeste wanted to ask. But she didn"t feel up to arguing. She let Shauna administer the medicine, juice and soup. Then her friend disappeared to the kitchen for a few minutes.
When Shauna returned, she bore a plate with some sort of sandwich on it.
“What"s that?”
“Just take a bite,” Shauna said, grinning. “It will slide right down your throat with no pain.”
Celeste followed instructions, and the result was delightful. It had a sweet flavor, and soothed her throat as it went down, whereas everything else had been painful. She took a closer look at the sandwich.
“Apple butter on fresh white bread,” Shauna said. “It"s heavenly, isn"t it?”
Celeste nodded, and continued gulping it down until it was completely gone.
Again Shauna disappeared and Celeste could hear her washing dishes. When she arrived back at the bedside, Celeste blurted out, “You"re such a good friend!” And she burst into fevered tears.
Shauna sat beside her on the bed and held her as if she were Katina awoken from a nightmare. Calmed by the motherly comfort, Celeste soon drifted back to sleep.
*** Shauna spent another night keeping watch, and Celeste"s fever broke before dawn. Shauna checked her temperature and other symptoms repeatedly before deciding to go to work, promising she"d return to check on her at the end of her shift.
Celeste still ached all over, especially her head, and got dizzy after standing or even sitting up straight for a while. But she was in much better shape. She watched her shows, read two paperbacks, and checked her messages. One of them was from Larry, asking her out. One of them was non- verbal—like somebody who hung up upon realizing that a machine was the best they would get. An image of Frank flashed through her mind.
Celeste returned that evening, fed her some more, checked her symptoms and watched some TV with her.
“You"re much better, now,” Shauna said. “Still ought to take it easy for a while, but the scary part is over.”
Celeste made a grand swooping gesture with her hand. “Girlfriend, I"m not going back to work for a week. Some substitute can deal with Mrs. Patel and those kids for a while.”
“I need to get sick so I can let somebody else deal with those miserable cable customers for a while,” Shauna said. She supervised a shift of customer service reps in the call center at Avcom.
“Thank you so much for taking care of me, Shauna.”
Shauna reached across the couch to squeeze her hand. “I got your back, girlfriend.” Then she bit her lips and snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot.” She reached over her arm of the sofa to retrieve her purse, dug around in it, extracted a DVD and handed it to Celeste. “Frank asked me to give you this.”
Celeste looked at the printed label showing through the jewel case: Carmen Jones.
“I…um, want to tell you something,” Celeste said.
“Shoot.”
“You remember what I told you about my freshman year—how I went to state?”
Shauna turned to give her full attention, now.
“Yes. The guy.”
“Yes, him. I actually ran into him again.”
Shauna"s jaw dropped and eyes went wide. “No! Really? Oh my god, girl, where? Did he remember you? Did you talk to him? Did you find out what his problem was? Did you slap his face? Sweet mercy, Celeste. I can"t believe it.”
“It"s Frank.”
Now Shauna was stunned speechless. They wound up staring wordlessly at each other for several long moments.
“Are you sure?” Shauna finally asked.
Celeste nodded.
“Does he know?”
Celeste shook her head, then brought her friend completely up to date.
Afterwards, they sat and stared at the television for a while, not really paying attention to it.
“Are you going to tell him?” Shauna asked.
Celeste shrugged. “I should have from jump. I don"t know why I went and lied to him. Just instinct, I guess.”
“I don"t know how you can notconfront him.”
“I thought I was over it,” Celeste said. “I mean, I was so young then. I"ve changed so much. Time gives you closure, y"know? But when you met Miles, it kind of opened it back up for me. Then, when I saw Frank, I was like, „this can"t be happening." Maybe I"m not as „over it" as I thought.”
“Some of your behavior makes sense to me now,” Shauna remarked, pointedly.
“You would be confused, too,” Celeste said. “And I"m more confused all the time. He acts even more attracted to me now than he did then. Or maybe he just got over being shy. Or maybe he never was shy. Maybe he just likes playing games.” She balled up her fists, shook them at the ceiling and grunted a cry of frustration, which hurt her throat and sparked a coughing fit.
“You want me to talk to him?” Shauna offered.
“No! Please, you can"t say anything to him. To anybody.”
Shauna held her hands up. “I was already sworn to secrecy, so I"ll just consider it extended.”
Celeste put her face in her hands.
Shauna chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you…have feelings for Frank?”
Were it anyone but Shauna, she would have denied it to the point of caustic sarcasm. But they were too close for BS.
“Sometimes I think so. At the very least, I see the same things I was attractedto before.”
“He really does seem like a great guy,” Shauna said. “With a little bit of that badboy mystique.”
Celeste nodded. “He took me to the opera.”
Shauna"s eyes widened again. “You went out with him?”
Celeste told her about their friends-date.
“After a night like that, you just walked out on him?” Shauna shook her head and frowned.“I trust Violet about as far as I can throw her. Sounds like jealousy and sour grapes to me.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Celeste asked. “Tell me you would know what to do in my position.”
Shauna"s frown seemed to turn sympathetic. “I wouldn"t, Celeste. But I do think you"ve got to confront him. Both of you need to lay all your cards out. Especially him. And he"s going to see through your lie eventually.”
Celeste groaned. After throwing a mini-tantrum while holding a pillow against her face, she turned a serious, inquisitive gaze on her friend. “Have you ever been just so utterly enamored by talking with somebody who gets you? I mean, he really seems to understand me. I can ramble on about a dozen different subjects with no sane transition between them and he doesn"t need me to stop and explain myself. And he comes right back at me, like he"s never been shy, and I feel like I gethim, too.”
Shauna nodded, her body language screaming “tell me more.”
“We speak the same language,” Celeste went on. “You should have heard us babbling about art and music and human dynamics. All the things that make me a closet geek to other people…he was right there with me. We came from different worlds but, y"know, both of us were examining the same things; having the same thoughts about stuff people around us never cared about. Before we ever met.”
Shauna smiled. “It"s like that for Miles and me, too.”
Celeste pondered this. Miles and Shauna were soul mates, according to all evidence. What did that say about Frank?
“You always were kind of the intellectual type,” Shauna said. “That"s part of why I suspected you and Frank would be a nice match, before. Before I knew any of this. You used to have a thing for artists, didn"t you?”
Celeste nodded. She was an avid reader, a music lover and moviegoer, and had a weakness for men who created the sorts of things that brought her joy.
“My best friend and Miles" best friend,” Shauna mused. “Who'da" thunk it?”
“Exactly. And I"ve already thought of the symmetry angle.”
“Symmetry?”
“Kind of like mirror images. Imagine the four of us on a double date.”
“People would think we all met on some internet dating site for swirl addicts,” Shauna said.
Celeste closed her eyes and waved her hands frantically. “Not that I"m…saying…”
Shauna patted her shoulder. “I know.”
“I"m sorry to be so needy, Shauna. I didn"t mean to dump on you.”
“You didn"t dump on me. You"re sick, so you"ve got a grace period. Besides, I"m tired of being the needy one all the time.”
They shared a laugh.
“Listen,” Shauna said, “Miles and I are celebrating our first year together next month. I decided to keep the celebration pretty small. I"m thinking just us, plus you and Frank. Nothing involved—probably dinner at a nice restaurant. It could be a chance for you two to lay your cards out.”
Celeste made a face. “Why do I feel pressure all the sudden?”
“No pressure,” Shauna said. “You don"t think that"s a good idea?”
“It might be kind of awkward,” Celeste said.
“But it might be perfect. You"ll be safe—you"ve got me there for moral support, Miles for a chaperone. If you want time alone because you see an opportunity to sock it to him, we"ll give you space. If being alone with him makes you uncomfortable, we"ll crowd in.”
“It"s your special night,” Celeste protested. “You two should just enjoy each other, not worry about babysitting me.
“Oh, I"m going to enjoy a night out with my man,” Shauna assured her. “And you don"t have to speak one word to Frank if you don"t want. But I would like you there to share our happy moment. And if you also get a chance to clear the air with Frank—that"s gravy, right?”
Shauna left her to ponder that later on. It wasn"t until after she was gone that Celeste realized she still hadn"t told her best friend about Larry. 14
Feeling guilty, Celeste called Larry the next day, when she was feeling better still.
“I was wondering what happened to you,” he said when she told him she was sick. “I guess we"re not going out before I leave, then.”
“Leaving?”
“I"m taking Karen to visit her grandparents for a while. Leaving next week. Gonna be gone for two weeks.”
“Oh,” she said. “This virus had lousy timing.”
“Sure does,” he said. “Guess I"ll see you when I get back?”
“Okay.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Shouldn"t I feel some kind of loss, she wondered; shouldn"t I be missing him already?
But she didn"t.
Frank called during Oprah, and she picked up.
“Hey. I heard you were sick,” he said.
“I am.”
“Is there anything I can get for you?”
“No. Shauna took great care of me. But it"s nice of you to offer.”
“Do you feel up to talking?”
She muted the TV. “I guess so.”
“I was curious what happened after the opera,” he said. “I was having a great time with you. But the way you left, it didn"t fit with the rest of the evening.”
“I had a great time, too,” she said. “And no, you were good compan
y all night, and a real gentleman.”
“I"m glad to hear that,” he said. “But what happened?”
“Nothing.”
“C"mon. It was something.”
“Don"t worry about it.”
“Too late Celeste: I"m worried. I don"t want to lose your friendship.”
This statement made her feel a pleasant warmth. She shook it off. “You"ve known me for all of a minute, Frank. It"s not like we"re old friends with a lot of time invested to worry about.”
“What are you saying?”
“I"m just saying it"s no big deal.”
She heard him sigh heavily through the phone. “Look, Celeste: If I violated your friendship rules somehow, I apologize. I don"t remember, specifically, doing it. I didn"t mean to.”
Now she felt bad. Violet seemed borderline imbalanced just from the way she communicated. Yet Celeste had allowed her to poison the well without even giving Frank a chance to confront his accuser.
“Hello?”
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I"m here.”
“Are you going to tell me what I did?”
“You didn"t do anything, Frank. It was just…I remembered something, and had to do something about it right away. I"m sorry for leaving you that way.”
After a pause, he said, “Um, okay…”
“Were you really worried about losing me as a friend?” she asked.
“Yeah, kinda".”
“You don"t seem like the type to worry about that kind of stuff.”
“I don"t?”
“No,” she said. “You seem flippant; like you don"t let people bother you much. Like you can take them or leave them.”
“You"re saying you know me well enough already to diagnose me like that?”
“Come on—I bet you haven"t kept in touch with anyone outside of family since you left home. Or at least since college—did you stay in touch with anybody from then?”
“Sure,” he said. “Not as often as I used to, but I still have friends from those days.”
“Some friends,” she said. “But other friends you blew off, right?”
“Where is this coming from, Celeste?”
“I just wonder. Some people talk like they"re worried about losing someone"s friendship; but is it really that big a concern for them? Has friendship been that much of a concern to them in the past? Have they kept loyal to friends? Have they even accepted offers of friendship from other people? If someone went out of their way to show an interest in you, would you give them the respect and courtesy due a human being, or would you blow them off because you"re late to a history class or something, regardless of how it hurts that other person?”
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