Lakeside Hospital Box Set Page 13

  She turned on the stereo, cranking the volume way up to obscure her tears and her pain, and settled on the angriest rock she could find. It turned out that at this hour, it got pretty angry.

  By the time Alex got home, the pit in her stomach had turned into a tight, aching sensation in her chest and she found herself longing for the ability to be numb. The pills were gone, though, so she knew she’d have to sit with this feeling for a while. Alex sat in the driveway for a long time, waiting for the tears to stop so she could dry her cheeks and do a reasonable job of pretending she hadn’t just had her heart broken. She got out of the car and let the cold autumn air hit her face, taking away the redness there, and then she went inside.

  Her mother was on the couch, glued to the Home Shopping Network as usual. Alex had hoped after the positive steps she’d taken that she’d come home one day soon and find the television turned off, or at least set to a different channel, but it didn’t look like today was that day.

  Today was not a good day.

  Alex stood in the living room doorway, leaning her shoulder against it as she said softly, “I thought you were going to give the television a rest tonight so you could get up early and work on job applications tomorrow.”

  “Look who’s talking,” her mother said, reading the time from the bottom corner of the television screen where it was always soldiering forward in one-minute increments that promised a never-ending progression of new products. “It’s almost ten and you’re just getting home?”

  Alex didn’t realize it was so late. She shrugged and said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Don’t you have class in the morning?” Her mother asked, and it took Alex a little off-guard. This was the first time that her mom had taken an interested in Alex’s education beyond repeatedly suggesting that she should go back to the University of Illinois.

  “I do,” she said.

  “Get some rest then, baby girl,” her mom answered. “You want to be fresh for class.”

  “Yeah,” Alex agreed, but instead of leaving, she came over and sat down on the couch.

  Even if she went to bed, there would be no sleep for her right now. She put her head down on the arm of the couch, propping it with one of the half-dozen throw pillows that had come from none other than her mother’s television family, and watched the host trying desperately to make the Slap Chop seem like an exciting product.

  “These pillows are comfy,” she said.

  “That’s the Juneau,” her mother said. “Three-hundred thread count, machine-washable slip cover with polyester filling.”

  “Have you ever considered sending your resume to the Home Shopping Network?” Alex asked, and it was only half in jest. “I bet you’d be ten times more compelling than these people.”

  She gestured at the television where the host’s face was etched permanently into a somewhat unnatural grin.

  “I kind of like them that way,” her mom said.

  “Reptilian?”

  “Frozen,” her mom answered. “No matter what, you can always count on them to be the same as they were yesterday, and the day before, and the day before.”

  Alex sat up and looked at her mother—really looked at her—for the first time since her dad’s funeral. She understood now why her mother had turned his hang-out spot in the garage into a shrine to consumerism, and why she’d blown so much of his life insurance payout on garbage she was never going to use. Alex leaned over and wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders, giving her a long hug.

  She expected her to fight it, to ask Alex what she was doing and why she was making such a fuss over her, but instead, her mom just returned the hug, resting her chin on Alex’s shoulder. After a few seconds, she said, “I tried to go to the grocery store today.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “It didn’t go well.”

  Alex waited a minute, expecting her mom to volunteer more information, and when she didn’t, she pulled out of the hug and asked gently, “What happened?”

  “I forgot that the park is on the way to the store,” she said. “It was like my brain and my hands were no longer communicating, and as much as I wanted to just drive past it and buy some damned bread and milk, I went into the park instead.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes as she spoke.

  “I parked where we always used to, at the end of the lot under that big, shady oak tree,” she said. “And I went to the gazebo where your dad proposed to me. There were people sitting nearby, drinking coffee and holding each other to keep away the cold, and I just stood there for I don’t even know how long, letting it chill me to the bone. Finally, someone came up and asked me if I was okay—I think they thought I was a vagrant or something, and I guess I can’t blame them.”

  She gestured to her pants, the same ratty sweats that she’d been rotating through all year and which were now so threadbare that the seams were fraying.

  “I got back in the car and came home, and I could feel this great well of sadness threatening to rise up and choke me,” she said. “So I sat down and turned on the television, and it all just kind of receded, like floodwater after the rain stops.”

  Alex leaned over and kissed her mom on the cheek, then sat back up and said, “You tried. It’s great that you tried.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, baby girl,” she said.

  “Not very well,” Alex admitted.

  She took a deep breath and told her mom about what happened tonight.

  “You know that girl I’ve been hanging out with?” Alex asked. Love and butterflies and girl troubles seemed like such frivolous things when her mom couldn’t even get off the couch because of her grieving, and Alex had been telling her mother that she and Megan were just friends. She wondered if this conversation would have been easier if she’d been honest about her feelings all along, to everyone involved.

  “Megan,” her mom supplied.

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “Well, we went on a date today and it was so perfect.”

  She blushed, wondering how much of the details she could tell her mother—they were close, but not ‘sharing the details of her sex life’ close. In the end she settled on telling her mom only that they’d slept together, and that she’d walked in on Megan kissing her roommate no more than fifteen minutes later.

  “She was like a different person,” Alex said, looking at the coffee table because she didn’t want to start crying again. “She just stood there and waited for me to get my keys, like I was inconveniencing her. It was so humiliating.”

  “Oh baby,” her mother said, pulling Alex into another hug. “People are assholes.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, then shut her mouth because she could feel the tears threatening the back of her throat.

  “You can’t let them get to you,” she continued. “Everyone’s got their own struggles, and sometimes they hurt you without even thinking about it.”

  “It’s just so frustrating,” Alex said, not sure if she wanted to punch the Juneau pillow or burst into tears. “She’s been keeping me at arm’s length ever since we met and I know we would have been good for each other if she had just let me in.”

  “You know better than most how painful that can be,” her mom said.

  “Too painful,” Alex said, sitting up again. “I don’t know why I thought I was ready to get off my medication.”

  “Because you’re strong, baby,” her mom said. “Lord knows you’re stronger than me.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” Alex said, swiping at an errant tear that was making its way down her cheek. She wanted to be numb, because if she’d been numb, none of this would have happened in the first place.

  “You have to do it at your own pace,” her mom said sympathetically. “If you’re not ready, then maybe you should call the doctor in the morning to talk about restarting the medication.”

  Alex nodded. The idea of sacrificing her libido for the comfort of numbness didn’t sound so bad right now. It wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice, because she d
oubted that she’d ever have another night like this one, anyway.

  “You want to order a pizza?” she asked. “I haven’t eaten dinner, and I’m willing to bet you haven’t, either.”

  “You’re right,” her mom admitted.

  Alex pulled her phone out of her pocket, momentarily tensing for a message or a missed call from Megan, but there was nothing. Rather than admitting her disappointment, she just dialed the number for their favorite pizza place and pushed the thought away.

  When the pizza came, Alex tipped the delivery boy generously for coming so late at night and then set the box down on the coffee table, grabbing a few plates and napkins from the kitchen. When she came back, she saw that the television had been switched off.

  “Let’s talk,” her mom said as she noticed Alex looking at the black screen.

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, reaching for her first slice of pizza. “Whatever you want.”

  They were silent for a moment while Alex pulled a couple of slices onto her plate and tried to think of conversation topics that didn’t involve Megan. She couldn’t think any more about her tonight. EMT school was the only other thing in Alex’s life right now, but she didn’t think her mom would want to hear about performing CPR on a medical dummy.

  Finally, though, her mother filled the void.

  “We couldn’t have ordered this pizza if your dad was still around,” she said, surprising Alex. She hadn’t voluntarily mentioned him since the funeral, and now she was smiling, a small laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t know why he thought green peppers were the devil, but he would never even let me order them on half. He thought they ruined the whole pizza just by being in the same box.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said with a grin, “I remember that. And yet he loved anchovies.”

  “Your father was a strange man,” her mom said with another laugh. It had a strained quality to it, but at least they were talking about him again, and it made the last of Alex’s sour stomach fade away. She devoured her pizza, suddenly very hungry.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Megan

  Megan didn’t manage to get any work done that night. Instead, she crawled into bed and tried to figure out why the hell she’d allowed that kiss to go on so long, and what had tied her tongue when Alex came back and caught them. She watched as the halogen street lamp burned outside her window and cast her room in a yellow glow, the occasional pedestrian walking by on the sidewalk and sending shadows across her walls, and she didn’t have any answers.

  Eventually, she heard Chloe getting ready for bed. She heard water running as she brushed her teeth, and finally the click of the door jamb as she went into her room. Megan tried to close her eyes and go to sleep, but she knew there would be no sleep tonight. She didn’t really deserve it after how she’d treated both Alex and Chloe. If she could prevent that kiss, she’d do it in a heartbeat. But now that it was done, it seemed like the kinder thing to just let Alex walk away knowing what a monster Megan really was.

  If she had chased after her, or if she called her to explain, then Alex might forgive her and open up the possibility for it to happen again. Megan had no idea how she’d lost control of herself so completely—she just knew that fear had bubbled up in her chest when she thought about being there for Alex the way she knew that Alex wanted, and she’d acted out. She couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t happen again, or that she wouldn’t hurt her in an even worse way.

  With a groan, Megan gave up on sleep around three a.m. She was exhausted but her mind wouldn’t let her get any rest, so she got up and went into the living room—the only thing left to do was inundate herself with late night television. All the news shows were off the air by then, so all she had left to keep her company were infomercials. She turned one on at random, not even caring what the product was, and laid down on the couch. She let her eyes gloss over as she watched. The over-enthusiastic salesman on screen said, “But wait, there’s more!” at least once every ten minutes as the night—along with Megan’s thoughts—marched on.

  The apartment was bright the next time Megan opened her eyes. She had no memory of closing them, or of dozing off, but the remote control was no longer in her hand and the television had been switched off.

  “—class?”

  “Huh?” Megan asked, looking over the arm of the couch.

  Chloe was standing there with her hair neatly curled and her jacket already on. She said, “I asked if you’re coming to class.”

  “Shit,” Megan muttered, sitting up with a feeling of alarm. “What time is it?”

  “Quarter til,” Chloe said. “You can still make it if you hurry. I’m leaving as soon as the coffee finishes brewing.”

  “Okay,” Megan said, still feeling pretty disoriented. “It’s a lecture day, right?”

  She could leave with Chloe if she just threw on a pair of jeans and stuffed her laptop into her backpack, but she hated the idea of showing up with greasy hair and no makeup. She could only imagine what Little Miss Perfect—Ivy—would have to say about that. Megan was weighing the consequences of skipping the first hour of class so she could shower.

  “Yeah,” Chloe said. “But Dr. Morrow mentioned a pop quiz to make sure we’re ready for the exam on Friday.”

  “Damn it,” Megan said with a long, frustrated groan, bidding farewell to her hopes of a shower.

  She went into her room, yanking down her pajama pants and grabbing the nearest pair of jeans she could find—yesterday’s—laying on the floor. As she was buttoning them and hopping toward the closet for a scarf that could cover up her untamed hair, Chloe came and stood in her doorway.

  “You’re kind of a mess,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Megan answered, ignoring her as she grabbed a sweater off its hanger and pulled it on.

  “I didn’t say it to be mean,” Chloe said as Megan went over to her desk and packed up her laptop and notebooks. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Megan lied, glancing up at Chloe. She looked genuinely concerned, and Megan sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about that kiss—”

  “I kissed you,” Chloe said, shrugging off the apology. She held out a second travel mug and Megan took it. As they walked back through the living room, Chloe asked, “Was that your girlfriend last night? Did I mess things up between you?”

  “God, no,” Megan said. “I messed things up. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Okay,” Chloe said, and then after a moment of hesitation, she added, “Why did you kiss me back, then?”

  “Because I’m a fucking idiot,” Megan said, grabbing her coat off the hook by the door. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

  “Sure,” Chloe said, and they headed out of the apartment.

  It was cold out, the late autumn breeze sending a chill through Megan’s body, and they walked in silence for a little while as she tried not to think about Alex. It was impossible, but she had to try or else she might as well just skip the class.

  As they approached the academic building, Chloe couldn’t hold her tongue any more. Megan was surprised that she’d made it as long as she did, but then she asked, “Are you going to apologize to her, too?”

  “No,” Megan said, trying to make her voice stern enough to shut down any further questions. Of course, she was dealing with Chloe so that would never work.

  “Why not?” she demanded.

  “It’s not worth it,” Megan said, trying to convince herself as much as Chloe. “She was just a fling.”

  “She didn’t act like it was a fling,” Chloe pointed out.

  “I’ll kiss you again right now if you stop talking about this,” Megan begged, and Chloe was silent again until they reached their seats in the lecture hall.

  She sat down beside Megan and they both waved to Ivy when she turned from the front row to look at them—Megan’s wave was a bit more sardonic than Chloe’s. Then just before Dr. Morrow approached the podium to begin class, she said, “I just hope you’re not sabo
taging whatever’s between you and the paramedic because of that stupid belief you have about damaging people.”

  “Thanks for the unsolicited advice,” Megan said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Alex

  Alex tried to forget about Megan over the next few weeks. It was painfully clear by the complete lack of communication on her part that Megan had no further interest in Alex, but it didn’t stop Alex from wishing she could have changed the outcome. She knew Megan had the capacity to love her, and that she was acting out of fear that she would somehow hurt Alex, but the irony of what happened seemed completely lost on her.

  Alex decided not to call her therapist like her mother suggested. For one thing, she knew the holidays were approaching and there were other patients who needed to see the doctor more than Alex did—people whose problems extended beyond matters of the heart. Besides, in the days after that terrible night, Alex was able to acknowledge that she didn’t want to go through the numbness of medication again. She may have stopped taking her anti-depressants because of Megan, but that wasn’t the only reason, and Alex’s mother was right—she was strong enough to get through this. So she decided to push away her feelings for Megan the old fashioned way—with distractions.

  She dove into her schoolwork, and discovered a few new bands to fill up the silences. Alex got to be better friends with Sarah, and they spent a lot of time studying together in the evenings, getting ready to take their EMT certification test in January. She also poured a lot of energy into making sure that her mother wasn’t falling back into old habits, either. One morning when Alex found her asleep on the couch, a thick fleece blanket wrapped around her and the remote control clenched in her fist, she decided that enough was enough.