I glance back at Mom. She’s looking at me with that gleam in her eye again.
“Lucy, are you going to go out with him?”
She’s completely serious. I can’t even believe we are having this conversation.
“Jesus, Mom, he walked me to the back for Rose to be nice. He didn’t ask me to have his babies.”
“It’s coming. I just know it. This is just like in one of my books.”
“Of course it is,” I mumble under my breath.
The front door opens and Daddy walks in, thank God. This asinine conversation can stop. Dad walks straight over to Mom, grabs her, and kisses her like it’s been days, and not hours since he’s seen her. This is every day. They are still so in love. It’s a rare, beautiful thing. It also hurts me to watch. I will never have this. I can’t allow myself to have this. I won’t drag someone along with me through what I have to endure. Who knows what else is coming? I’m extra emotional about it tonight, and I’m not sure why. I slip away from the kitchen while everyone is saying their hellos and go out to the back. I need some air.
I look up when I feel someone sink down next to me on the swing. Daddy is out of his uniform, a beer in hand.
“Rough day, Goose?”
“No. Just long.”
“Does this have anything to do with the wedding your mom and sister are practically planning in there?”
“What?”
“Why do you think I’m out here? I told Miller to join me, but he went out the front to make a call. You wanna tell me your version of what happened today, considerin’ I already got the soap opera version from the two nut jobs in there.”
“There is nothing to tell. We ran into that Bennett guy again today, and now evidentially we are getting married,” I tell him. I can’t look at Dad… he’ll see right through me.
“Maggie says he was flirtin’ with you and you were gettin’ all flustered. You interested in him? Sounds like he’s interested in you, Goose.”
“Does it matter? Dad, even if I was, I can’t go there. You know that.”
“No, Lucy, I don’t know that. I don’t understand why you have yourself so closed off. You can let other people in.”
“No, I can’t. I look at you and Mom and it hurts. I feel like I’m being torn open from the inside. I can never have that. I don’t know if I’ll even be around that long. I’m sick, Dad, broken, and I won’t make anyone else go through that with me. Who would want to go through that with me, like I’m a fucking charity case?”
Dad is getting pissed. I can feel him tensing next to me. I sneak a glance at him. His jaw is working back and forth, getting tighter and tighter, but he’s letting me talk. So, I keep going.
“We don’t know if dialysis is a fix. Even if it works on me, it’s not a long term thing. I have to get a transplant eventually. What if Mags gets PKD? If I have to get on the UNOS transplant list, it could take years. Years that I just don’t have. My body is failing, Dad. I’m slowly dying. I can’t risk putting myself or someone else through that kind of heartache. Putting y’all through it is enough. Y’all don’t have a choice but to stick with me. I’m not making anyone else do it.”
I am bawling at this point. Daddy is holding me and rocking me, letting me cry. This isn’t the first time we’ve talked about this, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
When my sobbing calms, Daddy pulls away from me and looks me in the eyes. He holds my chin to make sure he has my full attention.
“Luce, I need to say somethin’ and I need you to listen. You don’t get to respond, so shut your mind down and let this just sink in. I love your mom. When I met her, I knew she was it. I was done. She could have told me that she had a year to live and I wouldn’t have cared. I would have loved that woman just as much, just as hard. I would have held onto those moments and memories a little tighter, knowin’ they were it. Don’t let the fact that you might be livin’ on borrowed time keep you from lovin’ someone, from bein’ loved. I’m not talkin’ about us, and not even Miller.” He stops for a second and gives me a knowing glare. “I’m talkin’ a different kind of love. The kind of love I have for your momma.” Dad lets out a laugh. “The kind of love your momma talks about from all those damn books she’s always got her nose in. You need that kind of love, Goose. Take it.”
He goes back inside and leaves me alone to sort through my thoughts.
Daddy’s little rant has resonated with me, and I don’t like the way I feel. Thursday while I’m on campus, I find my eyes drawn to the couples surrounding me everywhere I go. Do I want that? I’m a lonely person, but up until last night I thought my self-induced solitude was what I wanted, what I needed. I’m having a hard time opening up to the possibility that I can have that, only to have it ripped away at a moment’s notice. I haven’t dated anyone since Miller and I gave it a go in high school. How do I explain myself, my medical conditions, my broken, scarred body to someone? How do I tell someone that they might fall in love with me, but they’ll have to watch me die? I don’t think I can let myself go there. It will earn instant pity, not spark the desire for a relationship from someone. It would just turn into a cluster fuck.
Despite Daddy’s words, I sit, people watching, and talk myself out of something potentially beautiful, once again.
***
The apartment is still, and I’m wide awake. My body is done for the day, but I can’t shut my mind off. Images of today and snippets of Daddy’s rant from last night are running through my head like a song stuck on repeat. Maggie retreated to her room a while ago and Miller hasn’t been around all day. He called and said he was going out and would be home later, so Maggie stayed home to babysit. I am capable of being alone, but they treat me like a child.
I don’t expect to sleep anytime soon. I know what’s coming. It’s completely wrong; a little secret that Miller and I share. Not even Maggie knows about it, and she knows everything about us. But, shit, just because I can’t allow myself to get involved with anyone doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel loved. Except, tonight, waiting up for Miller doesn’t feel right. It’s not like he’s using me. Miller and I have a relationship, just not that kind of relationship. Well, sometimes it turns into that kind, like after Miller goes out drinking, or I’ve had a really bad day, but it’s not too often. I tell myself that since we used to date, and we do love each other, it’s okay. But, tonight, it doesn’t feel okay. I guess we do use each other.
I hear the front door slam and my first instinct is to roll over and pretend like I am sleeping. I don’t think this can happen right now. Damn, Dad really messed with my head yesterday. Miller slips in my bedroom, none too quietly. He must have really drank a lot tonight. I hear him telling himself ‘Shhh’ as he slips off his shoes and one bangs against my night stand. Clothes are dropping, and I’m still playing possum. Maybe he’s so drunk he’ll pass out.
He slips the covers back and slides into bed behind me, pulling his body as close as it can get. Ummm, doesn’t feel like he’s ready to just pass out. I’m on my right side, my left arm on top of the covers. I’m only in a tank top, so my fistula is exposed. Miller strokes my arm lightly, stopping right above it. I know he can’t see it in the dark, but he knows just where to stop so he doesn’t touch the sensitive skin. He knows how it looks as well as I do. It’s getting bigger and more prominent with each treatment. Light kisses replace his touch.
“My beautiful Lucy,” he mumbles between kisses.
His lips travel further up my arm. Miller makes his way across my shoulder, nipping and sucking gently on my collar bone. As they continue up my neck, he gently rolls me on my back, his other hand going up my shirt. His thumb traces along my older scar.
“You are still just as beautiful as ever. Let me love you.”
I still don’t give him any indication that I’m awake. His mouth moves to my ear. “Baby….Goose….I need you. Wake up for me, please.”
His voice is pleading, almost desperate. This is new. His fingers are digging into the fl
esh on my side.
I open my eyes and try to look into his, but the room is totally dark. Somehow, my inability to see him is making this better. Miller never sounds like this when he comes to my bed.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him in a quiet voice. “You sound upset.”
“Let me be him,” Miller begs, using that same pleading tone, this time much softer.
“Who, Miller?”
“I heard your dad last night. Let me be that man. I can love you like that. Let me.”
He’s whispering so low. Did I hear him right?
I’m clutching onto his face. I wish I could see him now. I don’t want the darkness anymore. Why is he saying this to me? I’m not speaking; I don’t know what to say and I can’t have this conversation with a drunk Miller at three in the morning. Miller touches his forehead to mine and lets out a huge breath. He adjusts us so my body is tucked partially on top of his, and he promptly passes out.
The alarm goes off waaaay too early, especially after last night. I did not find sleep as easy as my bed mate. He’s still passed out in my bed, even though I tried to get him out of it this morning. Maggie may see him. It’s happened before, but she understands that sometimes we sleep in the same bed. Besides, she thinks I’m too much of a prude to ever have sex. After getting ready for dialysis, I sit on the bed next to him. I think about his words from last night. I wish he could be that man my father was talking about. It would be so easy. There would be nothing to explain, nothing to be ashamed about. No pity. I just don’t feel that. I love him, but it’s not that all-consuming, soul-crushing love that I know my parents have. Besides, he and I have been down that road. It was fun, but we are more suited to be friends.
************
Miller and I are at the park behind my house. We love to come here and sit by the pond towards the back. This has been our thing since we were little. I hope what I am about to do won’t taint this place for us. We are on a plaid picnic blanket, under our huge oak tree, watching the ducks swim. Miller’s back is to the tree and I am cocooned between his arms and legs. I can feel his breath on the side of my head. It feels safe. I can’t believe I’m going to do what I’m about to do.
“Miller, I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, no, Goose, sounds serious,” he chuckles.
I turn in his arms. When he sees the look on my face, his grin drops.
“Shit, Goose, you are serious. What happened? Is this about the doctor last week?”
“No, that was fine. I want to talk about us.”
“My favorite subject.”
I take a few deep breaths before I speak. “Miller, I love you. You are the most important thing in my life. I’m pretty sure I will love you forever. But I don’t know if I love you the right way for this.”
“This?” he asks. His brows draw in, causing creases in his forehead. I’m blindsiding him. My poor Miller. I hate that I’m doing this to him.
“This…Us.” I gesture between our two bodies. “I know it’s supposed to be different because we are together now, and I don’t know if it’s different for you, but I feel the same as I always have. The only thing that has changed is us fooling around. I just feel like I’m not being fair to you.” This is so much harder than I thought.
“How is it not fair to me?”
“I can’t explain myself Miller. I just feel like I’m holding you back from someone else. Like I’m using you. What if we just go back to how we used to be? Can we have the old us back? Is that so bad? Would you hate that? Hate me?” I can feel the tears forming and I look down.
“Lucy Brennan, you listen to me,” Miller says, taking my face in his hands and tilting it so we are looking at each other. “First off, I could never hate you. Don’t ever say that again. Second, if that’s what you want, to go back to just being friends, then that’s what we’ll do. You have always been in charge of this. I’ll take you however I can get you. I’ve told you that from the very beginning of this whole thing.”
The tears are no longer just threatening to come; they are running down my face. Miller wipes them with his thumbs. I nod and he pulls me to his chest. We sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the feel of each other. There was no awkwardness, no hard feelings. Just me and Miller, as it should be.
************
Miller is still in my life every day, just not in a boyfriend capacity. That’s not to say that he or I didn’t have physical needs after we broke up. So, occasionally, we hooked up. It didn’t muddy any waters. It only happened a few times while we were still in high school. College was a different story. We kind of went nuts when we moved out. Being in an apartment alone gave us a lot of freedom to be together. Once Maggie came a year later, things cooled off. Now it only happens on occasion. I’m sure Miller has other women, but he never brings them here, and I don’t ask any questions about them.
Glancing down at him, I’m glad we didn’t have sex last night. His little declaration has freaked me out. That’s the first time Miller has said anything like that to me. Being that he passed out, I’m hoping it was the liquor talking. I kiss his cheek and go outside to wait for Mom.
Chapter Eight
Mom has a meeting this morning that she can’t get out of, so she’s just dropping me off today. Since we still don’t know how my body is going to react during and after each session, no one trusts me to drive myself to the dialysis center. Miller is picking me up at noon.
Mom walks me in, stopping to chat with Rose at the front desk. I find myself looking around for Bennett. I want to see him, but at the same time, the thought of it happening freaks me out. I don’t like the way he looks at me, the way he puts his hands on me, like he has a right to. I have conflicting emotions when it comes to him, and it is completely absurd…I don’t even know the man. We are virtually strangers. I’ve puked on him and had two conversations with him. With that being said, I secretly hope to run into him today.
What is wrong with me?
Mom looks at her watch and gets all flustered.
“Oh, shit, I’m late. Call me if you need anything and I’ll try to answer. Daddy is in court this morning. I’ll call Miller on my way to work to remind him to pick you up.”
“Good luck with that,” I mumble to myself as Mom kisses me and rushes out the doors.
“Lucy, honey, do you need me to walk you back, or do you think you can manage?” asks Rose from behind the desk.
“I can do it,” I say, forcing a smile from my exhausted body. I can’t wait to get in that chair and just sleep. I hike my bag on my shoulder and start walking.
“Okay, dear, I will let your team know you are coming back.”
‘Team?’ I think to myself. What the hell? Before I get to the back I am intercepted by Nurse Perky. I glance at her nametag and see that her name is actually Brittany. Fitting.
“Good Morning, Lucy. Let’s scoot to the lab and get your weight, blood, and vitals before we get started. Dr. Amador is here to see you.”
I’m not sure what’s going on. Is this normal? What is he doing here?
“Honey, you look like you are about to hit the floor. Are you alright?” she asks.
“Yeah. Why’s my doctor here? Is something wrong?”
“He’s just making rounds. Why have you go to his office at the hospital when he can come check on you here?” she says.
Alright. Makes sense. I can feel myself start to calm.
After Brittany finishes with all of my stuff in the lab, we walk to my chair. She gets me situated and hooks me up to the machine. I’m practically breaking my neck to avoid looking at the point of attachment when I see my team coming. It’s Dr. Amador, Ana the social worker, and the administrator. His name has slipped my mind.
“Lucy, I’m Mr. Hawkins. We met earlier in the week. How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I reply, eying him suspiciously. This doesn’t seem like the doctor just making rounds. Dr. Amador comes over and kisses the top of my head while patting my shoulder. I spend more t
ime with this man than I do with my own family sometimes.
“Good morning, Lucy. I wanted to check on you and see how you were feeling. I received a call from Bennett Strickland Monday about an episode you had during your first visit, but he seems to have you fixed up. He adjusted your settings and you appear to be tolerating everything well. When he called me back Wednesday he said you were doing much better.”
What the hell?
“Why is he calling you about me? Why are the two of you discussing me?”
I can feel the color rising from my neck and creeping into my face. My blood pressure is throbbing in my ears. It’s a good thing Perky already took my vitals because I’m pretty sure my readings are through the roof.
“He made a quick decision while you were sick to change the settings of your machine. If your regimen is altered without my consent because of an emergency situation, the center has to notify me. He made the call himself since he was involved in the changes. And, despite the fact that he’s in the field of pediatrics, he adjusted it perfectly. You are doing quite well.”
Pediatrics? Bennett treats children. I am having a hard time picturing that. He’s too big and gruff to work with kids. I can’t wrap my brain around this new little nugget of information.
“Well, I’m fine, thanks. I’m also beat. So, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a nap.” I settle into my chair and close my eyes.
“I do mind. We have some more to discuss.”
Shit. Here it comes.
“You said I was doing well.”
“You are. But, Lucy, how many times do I have to tell you this is not a permanent solution.”
I start to stammer and he lays his hand on my leg, applying slight pressure to shut me up. He continues talking.
“I know that at this point in time you are refusing to consider your sister for a transplant. I also know that you are not going to give in, no matter how much I try to convince you. So, I want to put you on a donor list. It’s not ideal, but I will compromise with you. No transplant from Maggie unless we are forced to, but adding you to a donor list instead.”
More Than Ever: The Home Series, Book One Page 5