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“Yeah, the docs say that your ass is going to be ugly now.”
I hadn't even thought of that. I didn't know why, but him mentioning it made me feel even more vain. How bad was it? I touched my face and didn't feel any bandages.
“How long have I been here?”
“A couple of weeks. It might even have been three weeks by now. It was touch and go for a while, and they had to sedate you for another week because the pain was just too much,” Lester relayed.
That I understood. There was one question that I was dying to ask but couldn’t ask my friend. I wanted to know if I had really seen Beatrice here or not. She had been so mad at me for hitting her brother. Was she willing to forgive me too, just like Lester was? And why was that? Why was he so willing to forgive me now because of one little accident?
Lester must have been able to tell that I was getting worked up and then the nurse came in when my heart rate was too high again. She asked me if it was pain and I told her that it wasn't. How could I explain to her that it was just everything that was going on making me feel this way? It had nothing to do with the pain. It was the confusion of where I lay now.
The nurse must have realized that it was probably Lester's visit that was working me up and she said that it was probably best to let me rest some more. I made a comment about how I needed to get dressed, and I was then told under no uncertain terms that I needed even more rest. Lester left not too long after that, leaving me to my thoughts. That's what I needed. I needed to think things through, and I kept hoping that I would catch a glimpse of Beatrice.
I didn't see her by the time I went to sleep. It was late and visiting hours were over, but I had held onto a hope deep down inside of me that everything would be okay. She would forgive me; she would be here waiting for me. That didn't happen and I think when I went to sleep that night, I was a little heartbroken. Did she even care?
Another thought hit me right before I fell asleep, seconds before. What if Lester was right and I wasn't pretty enough anymore? Tomorrow, I would look in the mirror and see what the damage was. Maybe then I would know why Beatrice hadn't come to see me. There had to be a reason, but that was one reason I was afraid of.
23
Beatrice
Iheard about Jeff waking up finally and being coherent in the hospital. I had gone when he first woke up. He had been in so much pain that they had immediately put him back out. They'd done that for another week, and I would go sit with him for a while, but there were so many people in and out all the time that I almost felt like I was in the way.
Work was uncomfortable and I was seriously thinking about quitting. I liked the job well enough, but too many people there knew my business and because of Lester, everybody knew that Jeff and I were doing something. Since it was against the rules, they were talking about disciplinary action, and I couldn't even imagine what that would entail. Whenever it was, I knew that I didn't want to be a part of it. The relationship with my brother was tenuous at best. I didn't know what to say to him and the way things had turned out so horribly, I didn't think that there was much of a choice.
It basically came down to being too weird to be at the hospital. I wanted to see how Jeff was doing, I still cared about him, but at the same time, I was focusing on what I was going to do next. I needed to find another job, which was not something that I thought was needed before. I was just getting to like the dispatching job, but things were just too weird.
That discomfort was at home as well. Mom and dad were kind of in the middle of my and Lester’s shenanigans. I wanted them to pick a side, but they didn't want to. They were saying I was the bad guy and that really bothered me. People were acting like it was my fault that he had gotten hurt. Sometimes I wondered if it was. I certainly hadn't wanted any of these things to happen, but they had.
What I was supposed to do now, I had no idea. It's not like I had put him into that burning building. They had fought because of me, and he had been shorthanded because of me. I took responsibility for that. I took responsibility for most of it, but at the end of the day, it just felt like no matter what I did, I was back to being the black sheep. Everybody loved Jeff, and I split up two of the best friends in Jericho.
I was starting to get the idea that maybe Jericho wasn't for me. There was a reason that I had left so long ago, and it was because of the people and many other things. I thought that maybe Jericho would be different, but it wasn't different. It was the same old same old.
* * *
I gota call a little while after I got home from the diner. It was no better than the job I had before. If I was honest, I missed dispatching because at least I felt like I was helping somebody. Now, all I was really doing was getting somebody something to eat and drink. It didn’t leave me with a tingling feeling of joy when I went home at night.
I thought it was my mom on the phone. She’d been calling quite a bit since I moved out. I just couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to fight with my family. It was all my fault for seducing Jeff, and I just couldn't hear it anymore. Lester and I had never been the best of friends granted, but it had never been this bad before either.
“Beatrice?”
I recognized the voice immediately and he sounded better than he had thus far, from what everybody had told me. I could hear hesitation in his voice, and I had to wonder what he was calling about. The hospital was full of people, so why was he calling me?
“Jeff? Is that you?”
“Yeah, how are you?” he asked.
I told him that I was better now that I’d heard his voice and knew that he was up and around.
“I've been up for a while,” Jeff rebutted. He sounded mad.
“Yeah, but they had you sedated most of it.”
“How did you know that?”
“That's what they told me. It's hard to get information from the hospital, but when they think that we're together, it made it easier. I can’t ask anyone else, so I didn’t correct them when they thought that we were together.”
“I was wondering if you had come to see me.”
