by J. J. McAvoy
“Hi, Dr. Eli.” Molly waved and her father stood up quickly, moving to me.
“Hi Molly, how are you feeling?”
“Not sick,” she whispered, hugging her bear to her chest.
“That’s good. I’m going to talk to your dad for a second, all right?” She nodded, just watching the television quietly.
He followed me out, and no sooner had I closed the door than he started pressing for answers.
“Has the tumor gone down? Can you operate? She’s feeling really good today so I was—”
“Toby.” I stopped him. “I don’t have any news about Molly’s condition and I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong message by coming. I came because I’m worried about you right now.”
“Me? I’m fine. If you have nothing new then—”
“I heard about your meeting today,” I said when he reached the door.
His grip tightened. “That is none of your concern.”
“Yes I know. I’m overstepping right now, but I wanted to know if you really want to hand over your company to a bunch of sons of bitches who can’t even allow you time with your daughter. I don’t know much about TWM, but I remember your motto being all about making life better for others.”
“Innovation today for a customer’s better tomorrow,” he said, letting go of the door and hanging his blond head. He stood there for a moment and finally turned to me. “I dropped out of college, lived off cereal and noodles building TWM. I still remember when I bought my first actual office on top of a Chinese restaurant. It was just me, my girlfriend, and my brother. I thought I had really made it then… Now I have over a hundred thousand employees across the country; believe it or not, I know all their names.”
“I believe you, and I believe you don’t want to just give up and hand them over to the vultures surrounding you right now.”
He shook his head. “Eli, I don’t care. If they want to take TWM, let them take it. I won’t leave my daughter alone, especially not today. Not the day I lost my wife and she lost her mother. My daughter can’t even go to the block party. I won’t sit in a board room listening to their bullshit—”
“I’ll take her.” Why am I going this far? What the hell is wrong with me!
“What?” His eyebrows frowned together.
“The meeting will take what, an hour? Two? Molly can’t be outside without being monitored, so while you go and beat the shit out of the suits, I will go with her to the party. I’ll make sure she has a good time, and then you can meet up with us.”
“Eli—”
“It’s 1:31. You can still make it. I have your information, and my driver will pick up Molly and me—”
“Why?” He cut me off. “Why are you going this far? We live in the same building, but we aren’t friends. You didn’t even know me when I came in here. So why?”
I thought about it for a moment, and all I could think of was Guinevere and what she had once said to me.
“Do you know how many crappy people we meet a day in this city? I don’t want to be one of them. Sometimes we just need help and it's hard asking for it, so I’m going to offer it. Accept it Toby. Don’t give up yet; what kind of example does that set for Molly? Instead of giving up when the world knocks you on your ass, sometimes it’s okay to ask for help,” I replied, stretching out my hand for him.
He looked down and swallowed. “Please help me, Eli.”
“Of course.”
As happy as I was to help him, for some reason I wanted to call up Guinevere and tell her I wasn’t as much as a pathetic asshole as she thought.
“Molly, you’re going to the party with Dr. Eli,” he said when he opened the door.
Guinevere
“Stevie?” I said when I opened my door.
“Hi,” she replied. She stood there in jeans and a t-shirt, her red hair pulled back and her eyes red and puffy.
I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but I walked out and hugged her tightly. She cried on my shoulder. There were about a thousand things going through my mind and all I could think was to get her to calm down.
“I have wine and chocolate, which I would rather not eat alone.” I took her hand, pulling her into my apartment. Taigi came up to her while I went for the glasses.
“Hey boy, how are you?” She sniffled and laughed, rubbing her hands through his fur. He barked in her face and stood on his hind legs for her, while she took his paw as if dancing with him.
After pouring a glass for each of us, I handed one to her. “You have to taste this, my do-not-covet thy neighbor’s father made it and it is to die for—”
I paused, holding my glass as she drank the whole thing without once stopping for air, like a woman dying of thirst. Using her hand, she wiped her lips and held it up for more.
“It’s really good.” She smiled.
“Could you even taste it?” I questioned, handing her my glass.
She didn’t drink, just stared at it. “I’m making a mistake, right Gwen? Marrying Nathaniel…I’m making a mistake.”
“Stevie, what happened?” I asked instead of answering, because I didn’t know how to answer that question.
“We got in a fight,” she whispered, holding the glass to her lips. “More like his parents and I had a fight and he just stood there while they kept going on about how they expected him to marry someone better. I wondered, is this going to be my whole life? I’m going to have to stand there and take their shit because my dad is just an electrical repairman and my mother is a baker?”
“Just an electrical repairman?” I wanted her to rethink that statement. “Remember when we were thirteen and I was staying at your house when Winter Storm Michael came in? Eight and a half feet of snow and ice, it knocked out the power, and it was so cold we shared three blankets. Your mother let us eat all the cupcakes and cookies she’d baked for school the next day while your father put on his snow boots, at least three scarves, two hats, and a ski mask.”
She covered her mouth and laughed. “He looked like big marshmallow.”
“He did, and he told us to give him a hug before he went out and worked for hours in the snow to get the power back on before nightfall because he was worried people would freeze since there hadn’t been any time to prepare. When he came back, we could pull ice off his eyebrows. Your dad isn’t just an electrical repairman, Stevie. He’s the man that keeps the fire going no matter what.”
She dropped her head, putting her glass on the table. “I know. I know. It’s just they make me feel like I’m not good enough all the time.”
“Then prove them wrong. You know what my dad says. Chin up…”
“Head high!” she said loudly, puffing out her chest before we both broke out into a fit of laughter. “Our dads are something else aren’t they?”
“Yeah they are, and they would not approve of us standing here drinking wine over men, which is why we are going out!” I said, going to my living room to grab my bag and camera.
“Going out where?”
“There is this block party happening downtown. I was going to go later to see the fireworks but you and I could both use some cotton candy and laughter.” I hooked my arm around hers and grabbed Taigi’s leash, dragging us out of my apartment.
She held on to me tightly, and when we got on the elevator she put her head on my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what? I haven’t even done anything yet.”
“For not telling me to leave him. I know you aren’t fond of Nathaniel, so thank you for not using this as an opportunity to say so,” she muttered softly, watching the numbers decrease as we went down.
I wasn’t sure if I liked her thanking me for that. I wanted to say the same thing I’d said to her when I first met him: Nathaniel was a spoiled mama’s boy. He should have stood up for her and her family. The fact that he hadn’t pissed me off. Our families were one of the things that defined us. But if I had told her all that, I could just see our past fight playing out ag
ain and us ending up going separate ways. She was marrying him. She was making that choice, and I knew I’d rather be on her side when she needed my help than not speak to her.
Sometimes the best thing you could do for a person was just be there, no matter the circumstances.
Kind of like how Eli was.
Eli
I knew about as much as an ant when it came to little girls. The block party was filled with little children and their parents, balloon toys, and clowns. When I’d offered to bring her there, I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but her being quiet, sitting in her wheelchair, holding her stuffed bear was definitely not it.
“Molly? Are you all right?” I asked, kneeling in front of her. She put her chin on top of the teddy bear’s head. “Do you want to go back to the hospital?”
“No!” She looked like she was going to cry, which caused a few parents to turn to look at us.
“Okay, we don’t have to go back. I’m just asking because you don’t look like you’re having fun.”
“I’m having fun,” she lied.
This was the worst idea.
“Eli?”
Turning around I came face to face with Guinevere, wearing jean shorts and a red shirt and cardigan, her camera around her neck and fresh cotton candy in her hand. She looked…just like I would picture Guinevere to look. Molly grabbed my hand, hiding her face behind it.
“Hello?” Guinevere smiled at her.
“Guinevere, this is Molly, a patient of mine. I brought her here while her father went out to work.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to explain that to her.
She ignored me anyway, looking to Molly and crouching down. “Have we met before, Ms. Molly?”
Molly squeezed her bear and Guinevere snapped her fingers and smiled. “I remember now. You were the girl who almost ran me over when I moved into the building. Your dad’s name is T…”
“Toby,” I answered for her.
“That’s right, Toby Wesley. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Molly. You ran so fast last time I wasn’t able to say hi. You can call me Gwen. My name is Guinevere, but my friends call me Gwen.” She held out her hand and Molly looked at it for a long time before shaking it.
“Do you want some cotton candy?” she asked her.
“No,” I said quickly and Gwen looked up at me. “Too much sugar isn’t good for her right now.”
“Oh, well too much sugar isn’t good for me either,” she replied, walking over to the trash can and throwing it away before coming back to Molly.
Molly’s eyes stared all over her face, and for a split second it looked like she was trying to tell her something in some secret girl code beyond my knowledge.
“Molly, you guys wait here for a second. I will be right back okay? No running off.” She held her hands out as if that would hold us in place. “If Eli tries to run, kick him.”
Molly giggled and nodded.
“Don’t teach violence!” I yelled after her as she ran to wherever it was she was going. She stuck her tongue out like a child, almost tripping over a stroller, much to a nanny’s dismay. Molly giggled as the older woman waved her finger at her and Guinevere apologized, running off farther.
“Molly, when you grow up, try to be just a tad more graceful than Guinevere, okay?”
She looked up to me, tilting her head to the side. “Isn’t she your friend?”
“Huh?”
“She said her friends call her Gwen. You don’t call her Gwen.”
She was a sharp little one…and the way she looked at me waiting for an explanation, I knew I couldn’t lie to her.
“We are friends, but I like calling her Guinevere more than Gwen,” I replied.
“Why?”
Molly, I don’t know. “Because Guinevere is a pretty name.”
“I like it too! I will call her Gu…in…ev…ere.” She struggled on it for a minute.
“Guinevere,” I said slowly again for her.
“Guin…evere,” she repeated, and I nodded.
“I’m back,” Gwen yelled, running back to us with all her might. When she reached us she almost jumped on me, rising up in order to put a hat over my head. Shocked at how close she was to me, I froze as she concentrated on tucking all my hair inside it. It was only when she backed up that I was able to think straight again.
“Looks good,” she said as she whipped her head down, packing as much of her hair as she could into a messy bun. She took a silk scarf and wrapped it around her head.
“Better?” she asked Molly, and it for the first time I realized how she must have felt being stuck in a wheelchair with a scarf over her head.
Molly nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Ms. Molly, will you take a picture with me?” she asked her, taking the camera off her neck.
“Yes. Dr. Eli, come on.” Molly smiled.
“Yeah, Dr. Eli.” Guinevere pulled me around the wheelchair with her.
“I’ll take it, my arm is longer.” I took the camera from her hand and both of our hands lingered too long on each other’s.
I couldn’t help but stare at her, and without thinking I reached over to brush back a strand of hair that had escaped from the scarf.
“Thanks,” she whispered, looking away from me and patting down the side of her hair to make sure I had gotten it all.
“Okay.” I looked toward the camera, my face next to Molly’s. “One. Two. Three.”
“Pixie dust,” Guinevere said at the click.
“Pixie dust?” Molly turned to her.
“Yep. It’s made of happy thoughts and it can make you fly.” She pretended to sparkle some all over her face before her brown eyes shot up to me.
Lift her! she mouthed to me.
Following her orders, I did.
“Haha!” Molly giggled, holding on to me.
Thank God she was finally starting to sound like she was having fun.
All thanks to Guinevere.
“Gwen?”
“Stevie, you’re back! What took you so long?” she said, walking over to woman with red hair and hazel green eyes, Taigi at her feet.
“I would like to introduce you to my friends Dr. Eli and Ms. Molly. You’re going to need a scarf if you are going to hang with us. Right, Ms. Molly?” Guinevere held her high.
Molly nodded happily in my arms. “Yep!”
“I’m gone for ten minutes and you’ve found pretty attractive friends all by yourself.” Stevie put her hands on her hips.
“What can I say? I’m just cool like that,” she said, leaning her hand on my shoulder. It felt like she was burning a hole through my shirt, her body was so hot. I was oddly aware of it there and missed whatever they were giggling about.
“Is that okay, Doctor?” Guinevere asked me, standing on her own.
“Huh?”
“Train,” Molly answered, pointing. “I can ride the train, right?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s go before the kid in the Batman t-shirt steals the front.” Guinevere lifted her easily from my hands.
I just stood there dumbfounded, watching them, my mind still reeling. Where had she come from? How had she gotten there? And most importantly, how did she have the ability to completely change the atmosphere like that?
“Are you all right?” Her friend Stevie stood beside me, wrapping her head with a green scarf she must have just bought. Taigi sat still on the ground.
“You two seem close. Has she always been like this?” I asked as we walked toward the red, yellow, and black train that could barely fit more than two people in each row.
“Yep. That’s Gwen,” she said like she knew exactly what I was saying. “I’ve know her for all my life and I can’t explain it. It’s like she’s—”
“Perfectly imperfect, and the more you at look her the more confused you become but even still you can’t look away.”
“Wow,” she replied.
“What?”
“Nothing, I’m going to catch the next train with them,”
she said, walking off. She stopped, looked me over again, and shook her head before walking toward them.
“What did I say?”
Taigi barked like he knew the answer.
Chapter Ten
Something Borrowed and Blue
Guinevere
“Why! Why am I like this?” I cried, trying to wiggle myself out of the damn dress. The zipper was broken, and it was not budging for anything. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I sighed. “You're an idiot, Gwen,” I whispered as my phone rang. “Eli, this isn’t a good time,” I answered.
“If you ever beg me for my book, or any of my wine again—”
“Wait!” I tried to move to my door, but I tripped slightly on the hem of my dress, knocking my desk over.
“What are you doing?”
Lifting it up at the bottom, I quickly walked out of my bedroom. “Just put the book and bottle by the door—”
“You want me to what?”
Urgh. “I’m having a moment. Just put—”
“Are you crying?”
“No, I’m not crying!”
“Guinevere—”
Annoyed, and without thinking, I pulled open the door. “Eli, I’m not crying.”
His blue-green eyes wandered down the strapless mermaid wedding dress I wore, then back up to my face.
I wanted to slam the door in his face I was so embarrassed, but I knew that would only make it ten times worse.
“Go ahead, laugh.” I sighed, waiting in the doorway as Taigi went up to Eli, placing both paws on his legs.
“I don’t see anything funny,” he replied, handing me the wine bottle and medical textbook I'd asked for before stroking Taigi’s head.
“I would prefer if you laughed.” It would make me feel less pathetic. “Thanks for these, I’ll return the book tomorrow.”
I was about to call Taigi back inside when I remembered. “We’re friends, right?” I asked, though it felt odd for me to call him just a friend.
He looked up from Taigi. “I guess.”
“So we can help each other without judging, right?”