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“Are you still at the hospital?”
“Yes. I’m getting ready to leave, now.”
“Great. I’ll meet you at your place. Chicken Vindaloo?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to muster more enthusiasm. “Sounds good.”
“Do you have wine or beer?”
I blinked my eyes slowly. “I do but I’m so tired I’ll be asleep in ten minutes if I drink alcohol, but you can have it.”
“Take a hot bath and try to stay awake until I get there. I’ll see you in forty-five minutes to an hour.”
“Okay. Thank you, Alan.”
After I put my phone in the front pocket of my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, I touched Rory’s little cheek. She’d insisted on keeping on her Rapunzel hair which made me smile. The wig had the effect that I wanted, and she had been completely distracted from her treatment as we read story after story from the book, she had snacks, and then watchedDora the Exploreron Nickelodeon. I was amazed that the show was still on the network because I remembered it from when I was little.
It seemed to take forever to get through the maze of the hospital to the parking garage where my car waited to take me home. It was getting to be nice weather, and though I had thought about walking to the hospital that morning, I hadn’t because I needed to make stops at the stores first. Now, as tired as I was, I was grateful I’d made that choice.
I was glad of Alan’s companionship, but I knew he wanted more. The thought of it seemed impossible, even distasteful and I was aware that we’d have that same uncomfortable veil hanging over us. Even though it had been months since I’d been with Dylan, I could still remember everything about being in his arms and anyone else would be a poor substitute. I could still smell him, taste him… ache for him, and even dead tired, I just wanted to be in the same room with him. After our FaceTime the previous week, he texted more and I had to be honest, just knowing he was on the other end of the phone, made life easier, somehow. Though, it was agony not to see him and the longing was painful… he was in my life. Even if I wanted to move on, I just couldn’t bring myself to be romantic with anyone, even Alan.
Deep in my heart and soul, I knew that even if Dylan and I could never be together in that way, even if seeing him with other women or even hearing about it over the years would kill me, there was this sort of harrowing comfort just knowing we were irreversibly connected, even if it was only in the background of our day-to-day lives. It was bittersweet, but he was part of me, and that would never change.
I got into my car; my mind filled with thoughts of him. Part of me was happy he’d called last week, and we were keeping in touch more often, but another, larger part, was sad that it wasn’t more. I felt a harrowing emptiness because it wasn’t like it was on our magical weekend.
Maybe I would have to be happy with the memories of those few days. Even if I did end up a research fellow at St. Jude, married to someone else or whatever life held in store for us, Dylan was my best friend, and he always would be.
In what seemed like a flash, I was parking the car and taking the elevator up to my apartment. Methodically, I set my backpack by the door and put my keys on the entry table before I went into the bathroom. Soon, I had shed my clothes and was sliding into a tub full of hot scented water and bubbles as Alan had suggested. I often felt that a long bubble bath was better than sex…unless it was with Dylan.
Ugh, I thought.Why did my mind always revert to him?
My brain was in a fog, switching between thinking about Dylan and Rory’s situation, and what would happen to her when she was discharged from the hospital. If she was like most cases, the doctors hoped she’d be in remission after a month of intense treatment. The little girl would still need years more just to keep the disease controlled, but she wouldn’t need to be in the hospital the entire time. Then what? Foster care? My heart fell at the thought.
I wanted desperately to figure out how to help her. I had a nagging in the back of my mind that maybe I could apply to foster her, but knew I was too young, and my schedule wouldn’t allow it. Perhaps I could try to find her mother and get her situated into a better situation… something. I knew my parents would help me with renting an apartment for the two of them, even though it was a big ask. If anyone could empathize with Rory’s mother, it would be my mom.
So much for being an adult, I thought.Always reverting to asking my parents for help, but what choice did I have? That poor little thing…I thought.
I was still contemplating the possibilities while getting dressed in an old pair of leggings and oversized grey sweatshirt and black fuzzy socks. Unceremoniously, I twisted my hair into a messy bun at the top of my head, not caring what I looked like. I was tired, hungry and I just wanted to eat and to go to sleep.
After the buzzer sounded, I found myself wishing I hadn’t agreed to dinner with Alan and just had PB & J. Reluctantly, I used the app on my phone to let him into the building and soon, there was a knock at the door. I padded over and opened it, trying my best to hide how exhausted I was. I shouldn’t have bothered.
“Wow, Remi,” he said, his arms laden with bags of take out. “You look like you’ve been run over with a truck.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes as he walked past me into the apartment. “Gee, thanks,” I answered, softly.
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He leaned in to place a brief, but unexpected, kiss on my mouth. I was unresponsive but tried to smile when he pulled back. “I’m sorry.”
I ushered him into the living room. “It’s okay. I am tired; it was a long day. I hope you don’t mind, but I will want to make it an early evening.”
“You know, Remi, you don’t need to spend so much time at the hospital. There are a lot of other volunteers; you don’t need to kill yourself for those kids.” When I didn’t answer, he continued. I felt sort of disgusted that he’d called them “those kids”, as if they didn’t matter, but I knew he cared about people or he wouldn’t choose to become a doctor. “After we eat, I can rub your feet or give you a back rub,” he said. His tone was sincere, but I couldn’t help wondering if he just wanted to get his hands on me and hope he could take it further.
I ignored his comment. “Grab a beer out of the refrigerator if you want. Grab me a bottle of water, and I’ll get some plates and silverware.” I considered that maybe there was something wrong with me; I felt a bit sad.
Alan placed the food on the low coffee table in front of the sofa and went to get the beverages. We settled in front of the TV, sitting on the floor between the coffee table and the couch, Alan unpacking an assortment of Indian fare, including the favorite Chicken Vindaloo and rice. I had to admit that the smell of it was enticing as we put the food on our plates and started to eat.
It was after ten and Alan used the remote to flip through the local stations and finally settling on one of the late-night talk shows.
“Do you think I can talk to you about something?” I asked, not interested in the TV show.
