Chapter Forty-Four
The next morning, the rain is gone and so is Lee. I wake up to an empty but messy living room with blankets spread everywhere and a carpet that's traveled halfway across the room. I'm scared and confused at first. I had fallen asleep happily with him uncomfortably squished by my side and now waking up alone, I trace the wrinkle in the sheets where he had lay. But I guess he just left because he knew it was better off this way.
"Here we go," I mutter to myself, rubbing my eyes. "Today's going to be a good day. You can do this, Ivory." I read somewhere it's scientifically proven that if you start—well, attempt to start positively—it'll begin better than days when you don't.
I'm half asleep in the bathroom as I brush my teeth, use the toilet, and shower. I'm half asleep when I'm changing into a jeans skirt and a floral shirt and doing my hair. I'm so half asleep during breakfast that I pour too much milk into my bowl, causing it to spill onto the granite counter. I'm even half asleep wiping it away with a towel, my actions incredibly slow and lingering.
As I force myself to eat, I realize I'm not half asleep. This is how life will be from now on.
When I place my half-empty bowl of cereal in the sink—I couldn't eat it all without feeling like puking—I discover a light blue piece of paper taped to the faucet. It's a note from Lee. It's possibly the strangest place he could've placed it but I'm suddenly awake and rushing to get it open.
It reads, Good morning, baby. But the 'baby' is crossed out as if he thought better of it.
Here goes Day One of our separation. I don't even know why I am writing a letter addressing it. I don't like it. I just wanted to leave you a note because it feels wrong abandoning you to wake up alone. I know you told me that we should just say goodbye as if I just slipped off to work or as if I'm going on a really, really, really long vacation. I wish that were true. I'm trying to be blindly positive about this and ignoring every bone in my body to just crawl back under the covers to sleep another minute with you and stay forever. I'm trying to respect your wishes. And your life. And everyone's. This is what we need to do. You're right. I wish you weren't, but you are. Just wanted to say (even though you know) I LOVE YOU and I know I'll probably feel like this forever, no matter what you see. I am merely a planet orbiting around the beautiful sun known as Ivory Flores. It really has been a pleasure.
I will see you soon when I return from my vacation in, uh, the Bahamas.
It is just another day. Just another twenty-four hours. Goodbye, love.
I don't know how many times I read it and then re-read it but it's to the point where the remaining cereal in my bowl has gone soggy and sunk into the milk. The dam I've put up mentally in my head and heart starts to wobble. I try to push it to be strong. Strong. Stronger. It's just another twenty-four hours. It'll be like any other day that I can get through. Life goes on.
Eventually, I put the letter down gently on the counter and turn away. I have things to do. I start by cleaning up the living room, putting a huge brick in my head to block out any memories of last night because I know I will not stop crying if I acknowledge the status of Lee and I. Instead, I fold blankets and fluff up pillows. I'm picking up random things when I run across his suit.
Half dry, the dark navy suit and his office shirt lays crumpled where I had undressed him. The second I pick it up, a waft of his cologne and his famous peppermint scent is in the air. I let myself indulge in it for one, two, three seconds before carefully putting the clothes aside on the sofa. Another day, I will let myself let go. Not today. Today's only the first.
I leave the house around noon, preparing a mental checklist of things I must do. I have to pick up groceries, go receive Mom's test results, go to work, and at some point today or this week, start school things like finding dorm room furniture and actually speaking to my roommate. I also have to go check out the campus. I've only been there once last year during spring break but I can barely remember it. I visited so many colleges at that time and I hadn't really cared back then. I was too engrossed in stupid high school drama. If only I had known how my life would expand by now.
Groceries are first and I'm a madman as I basically race to stuff my cart with all the essentials and zoom out of the market. My stomach jitters every time I think about Mom's results.
I'm at the hospital nearly twenty minutes after, waiting up by Dr. Chung's office. My foot won't stop shaking against the ground. My fingernails somehow end up between my teeth too.
His door swings open and a small elderly woman is walking out, saying goodbye and mispronouncing his name. "Bye, Doctor Choong!"
The doctor just laughs and waves. "Bye, Kathleen." When the old woman hobbles over to the elevator, he turns to me with a confused expression. "Miss Flores, are you already prepared? Your appointment isn't for another hour."
I nod, standing abruptly. "If it's not a problem for you, I'm good now."
"You're very lucky I have an empty slot," he says, checking his wrist watch. "Very well, come on in."
Doctor Chung holds the door open for me as I walk into his office. I guess he's been relocated since his previous room had been much smaller. There is a big grand oak desk, one that reminds me of Principal Appleton's, and glass windows that look out into the parking lot and the suburban areas. On the walls are certificates and awards. There are two white leather sofas and one brown leather chair in front of his desk.
He takes a seat in his chair while I sit across in the brown leather chair. For a few moments, he shuffles away papers and files that belong to the woman that had been in here before. When he's done, he folds his hands and looks up, flashing a smile. "What can I do for you today, Ivory?"
I return the smile, suddenly getting more nervous. "I...I'm here about my mother's test results? Yesterday, she moved her hand and all...."
Doctor Chung swivels around in his chair and looks into a drawer full of manila files. He runs his finger over the files until he reaches my mother's, pulling it out and examining its contents. "Let's see...," he says, turning pages.
My foot is restless, tapping at a fast speed. "Well, what is it? Does it say she'll wake up soon or what?" I can't wait any longer. I need to know. Now.
He's quiet for a few moments before closing it and turning back to me. Doctor Chung places the file on the desk, closed. "Ivory...."
"Yes? What is it?"
"We did run through some tests," he admits. "But they're not going to blatantly tell us if she's going to wake soon or not. We couldn't find anything irregular during her brain scans. No new activity or abnormal pulse. Nothing to determine she even supposedly held your hand in the first place. Are you sure what happened was real?"
I've been slapped. It feels like I have been. A sting burns through my throat and travels across my chest. How could I be making this up? I was so sure the scans would tell me something. A change. Her gaining conscious. Something. But there seems to be absolutely nothing, up to the point where it's questionable that I even experienced my mother moving her hand.
"Yes, I'm sure," I say, looking down. My voice is weak.
I didn't see her move her hand. I had felt it but I hadn't been watching her. I also haven't been sleeping well lately. It could've been just an episode of mine. I could've fallen asleep for one second, thinking it was real when it was only a dream. Did I really feel her hand move?
"Don't be discouraged," the doctor tells me. Too late. "Many coma patients tend to randomly wake up. Your mother could be waking up now, or tomorrow, or maybe next month. You never know with them. Time is something that you cannot control with or without coma patients. All we can do is continue hoping and waiting."
"Thank you for your time, Doctor Chung," I say, standing and straightening out my clothes. I extend a hand. "Please call me if anything happens."
He shakes my hand, nodding. "Of course."
I turn on my heel when I suddenly remember something. Abruptly, I stop and spin back around. "Oh! I almost forgot."
"Yes?"
"I want to transfer my mother to a hospital in New York-Lenox Hill, if possible." When I see his confused expression, I scramble for words. "Well, you see, I'm going to be attending a college in the city and I will be living there as well. I wouldn't feel at ease with my mother so far, especially in this state. I also can't afford money or time to be with her everyday. Pace University is also connected to Lenox Hill so maybe it'd help me in some way."
Doctor Chung purses his lips. He picks up a wad of sticky notes before scribbling something down and placing it on the monitor of his screen. "Okay, I'll send transfer papers out to Lenox Hill and I'll also fax you some forms. I don't know how fast or slow this process might be or how much it might cost. But we'll take a whack at it, all right?"
I nod, opening his door. "Thanks, Doc!"
He smiles and waves goodbye as I head out.
In the elevator, I'm reminded of when I had run into Mark. A smile creeps up to my face as I remember the awkward silence and the penguin suit. But then a question I had pushed away before comes to mind; Why was he in the hospital?
Surely, he wasn't visiting my mother again. I would notice any new flowers or gifts for Mom. He wasn't even getting off of the fifth floor where my mother resided. If I remember correctly, he was getting off the third. What's on the third? Was he visiting someone else? But who could he know that could be in a hospital all the way in Hanson, the suburban town a few miles from Brownwood? Curiosity and worry blend into one as I anxiously press the number '3' in the elevator instead of the ground floor.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open.
When I step out, the floor is like any other floor in the hospital. White marble with black squares methodically placed, white walls, and people milling around. It isn't until I walk a little farther and see a sign attached from the ceiling reading Chemotherapy that I lose my breath.
I look around. I must be on the wrong floor. I must be in the wrong life.
Mark? Chemotherapy? No.
There is this raw, gripping hand of fear crawling around my throat. I can't breathe. It's Mom all over again. Mark is supposed to be one of the few stable people in my life. What's going on? I shouldn't jump to conclusions but why else would he be on a floor dedicated to chemo?
"Hi, may I help you?" A young nurse around thirty with a gentle smile asks. "Are you lost?"
Regaining my voice and thoughts takes a while. "I-I'm fine."
"Okay," she says, nodding but in a disbelieving manner. She walks away but turns and stares at me before walking away again.
I feel dizzy and like throwing up. My legs feel like liquid, no structure to hold me up. All structure in my life is gone. I walk back to a pillar next to the elevators and lean on it before I fall or faint or throw up, whichever comes first. Repeating mantras into my head doesn't help. Breathing doesn't help. Calming down is useless.
The elevators ding again and when they open, there he is, in the flesh.
Mark.
It's around the same time as yesterday when I ran into him here. For some reason, I hide on the other side of the pillar. I don't know why I don't confront him. Ask him face to face. Be smart about this situation. But I don't want to face the reality that Mark might be ill. Bad things can happen to anyone. Just because my life is already messed up doesn't mean I obtain a get-out-of-jail-free-card. It can just keep getting worse.
He walks right by me as I lean on my back against the pillar on the other side, squeezing my eyes shut when he passes. When I open them and see that he hasn't seen me, I let out a breath I'd been holding. I silently trail behind him. Maybe it's a family member or a friend? Maybe it's not him.
Mark stops at an information desk, where they give him a pass, and he carries on. He's walking so fast, unbuttoning the first buttons on his collared shirt, that I have to jog to catch up. He turns into a hallway and I stop at the start of it, leaning over the wall just to watch where he'll go next. He stops at the end of the hallway in front of a patient room like any other.
Is he taking his shirt off to change into hospital clothes? What is going on?
I am begging the greater forces of nature to let this not be the truth.
He sighs once, running both hands through his hair and then over his eyes as if trying to shake out the tiredness in them. Then he doesn't hesitate as he opens the door and shuts it behind him.
Curiosity burns inside me like an ignited firework with the need to set off into the sky. I walk very slowly to the door, letting myself have the option to follow the better path of a good person and turn away and respect his privacy. I am three doors down from the room. Two.
I am not such a good person.
I stand in front of the door he's entered, looking for any clues.
What I see makes me stagger. It makes me more dizzier than the possibility of Mark having cancer. My mouth involuntarily drops as I read what I see over and over again, trying to process this, to get my brain to accept what I'm seeing. It's like seeing someone walk on water or someone with fire-breathing powers. It's unreal. My brain rejects it but my eyes cannot.
Annelise Joseph.
Anne.
"That'll be twelve ninety-nine," the perky Target girl says, scanning the bright patterned pillow I had just picked out ten seconds ago. I was supposed to be focused and excited on decorating my dorm room. Instead, I picked a random bright colored pillow to trick my roommate into thinking I'm a sane person and your average every day girl. Normal people don't buy pillows to trick people.
I hand her the cash, reluctant. Every time I think about the amount of debt I'll have during and after college, it gets harder and harder to buy things and to smile after looking in my wallet. Especially when it's money I've sweat over scooping ice cream and mopping floors in a penguin suit all day.
Outside, the sun lingers on on the horizon, kissing the silhouettes of treetops as it slips under.
Work was fast today due to the hot weather and the intense need for cold, refreshing ice cream, and partly Mark's promo. Now, I'm somewhere near the city. A quick stop before visiting my roommate and our room for the first time. We decided to meet up for a casual dinner just to get to know each other. Her name is Giselle and I've followed her on all social media. She seems nice so far. Also, pretty with her ginger hair and perfect smile. I can't wait. I've never actually lived with anyone other than myself or my blood.
On the way to the city, I turn on the radio. It is summer and I am officially out of high school. It's just nice to remind myself of that sometimes.
A hardcore rap song blasts on and I scramble to tune it down.
I put my left arm on the window and as the rap goes on, Mark's face comes to mind. I'd been trying hard to forget what I'd seen but it was near impossible.
Anne is here. In the state of New York. In the same hospital as my mother.
It's too much of a coincidence. It's crazy.
The first step to this insaneness is to not jump to conclusions. But I can't help but think what happened? Did Anne truly run away with Mark? Are they still seeing each other? It's bit too late not to jump to conclusions, but I can make the decision to not make further secretive missions to find out what's going on myself. I'll wait for Mark to tell me himself. Or maybe just ask him casually.
How will Lee react? Knowing the first girl he maybe ever loved truly is still here? He's still leashed to his fate with Penelope but would he hug Anne? Kiss her? I ignore the prickle of jealousy. We're over now and it was a decision somewhat mutually made so I can't go back on it. Even if Penny wasn't pregnant, some other factor would've tore us apart. His work. Our bank accounts. Time.
For the rest of the ride, I contemplate how life would have been if I had hit it off with Peter or maybe just a regular boy. I realize it wouldn't have been as much fun as this messy life is, but maybe less painful.
As I arrive into the city, the sun dips down under and a dark purple covers the sky, fading into a black color. I don't need the stars when I'm in the city. It has its own.
The residence halls for Pace are in different locations but I'm on 182 Broadway. Fairly expensive but then again, living anywhere in this city is. I pull out the I.D. card I had recently made. In the lobby there are scanners that won't let you through unless you have a valid student I.D. card from Pace. The security system releases a little tension of living away from home for the first time in my life.
I have the pillow from Target in my hands and a bag full of toiletries and small everyday things I'll definitely forget when I'm completely packing my Brownwood life up for New York City.
I take the elevator to the eighteenth floor where I'll be residing. Giselle and I are lucky to have gotten a double together since the triples are more crowded. We're going to be living on 18B.
When I unlock the front door, I'm nervous and excited.
The room's pretty simple—two beds, two desks, white walls—but it's the greatest thing ever. I'm going to be in college! In a college dorm! With other students and late night study sessions and parties and living inside the city I've always dreamt of afar.
Giselle doesn't seem to be here yet so I take the opportunity to scout the living space myself. There's a small bathroom connected and there are two mini-fridges along with small closets. It's pretty good compared to some dorms that don't get their own personal bathrooms. There are white blinds, the kind where there's a rod you have to spin to open. I yank the string near it to pull it up and my breath gets taken away.
It's the typical picturesque view of New York but I never thought I'd get to ever live somewhere with such a view. I can't believe I'll be able to just pull up the blinds mid-book or mid-studying or maybe when I wake up or go to sleep and just see the overlapping of skyscrapers and lights and the tall buildings.
I stand there for a minute just admiring these concrete pieces of art.
Then, I decide I want the bed on the right and jump onto it backwards. My hair sprawls everywhere and I lay there in a starfish pose for a while, just breathing this all in. I'm becoming older. I'm growing up.
My vision gets blurry and suddenly, my throat swells. I hate being so emotional but one day you're eating glue in kindergarten and then yelling at your mom as a preteen and then falling in love for the first time and then suddenly you're alone and you're moving somewhere else completely and you're an adult.
It's hard thinking about how quickly life goes...but I just expected my mom to be here with me through it.
I imagined us going shopping for dorm room things. She'd make me buy things I'd hate like extra toilet paper or laundry hampers and detergent and cough medicine that I'd tell her I wouldn't need them ever but then in the future, I would. We'd buy cute bedspreads and she would tear up and I'd tell her not to worry because I was closeby, sort of. She'd make a meal plan for me and force me to eat my vegetables no matter what and disapprove in the way I'd set up the room. We'd argue but then we'd have this mother-daughter moment and she'd kiss me goodbye before I embarked on my own journey.
But I've been on my journey alone for a while now and I want my mother back. I want to wish so badly what I felt yesterday was true. That she was there, giving me a sign that she was coming back.
Just as I wipe my tears, the door bangs open. I sit up abruptly and begin to prepare for myself for the craziness that is Giselle Beakerman.
"Hey!" the girl that is Giselle says. She looks different from her prom photo on instagram. Prom Giselle had a gentle smile, blue eyes, perfectly curled red hair and a cute date. This Giselle has hair in a messy bun with two pens holding it up. She is makeupless but she is vibrant and pretty still, wearing a yellow shirt that slips off her shoulder and shows her midriff and some ripped shorts.
"Did you just get here or...?" she says, not waiting for my response and kicking the door closed with her foot since she has a box of things in her hand.
I find my voice. "Uh, yeah."
She walks to the left bed, reaching down to place the box on her bed. When she bends, I see a dragon tattoo on her back. She looked so innocent online. "Cool. Have you checked out the entire place yet? Our room's pretty big compared to those pictures I saw on the web."
"Yeah, we have our own bathroom." I pull my skirt lower since it had ridden as I jumped on the bed. I cross my legs, folding my hands over them.
Giselle pulls out a pen out of her hair, a sharpie, and uncaps it with her teeth. She scribbles down 'POSTERS/WALL STUFF' quickly and talks with the cap in her mouth. "Sweet," she says. She grabs the cap from her mouth and closes the sharpie, sticking it back in her hair. She turns to me. "So, it's nice to finally meet you. Ivory, right?" Her bangles and bracelets jingle as she stretches her hand out towards me.
"Yep," I say, standing and shaking her hand. "And you're Giselle."
"Call me G," she tells me as she pulls her hand away. "And I'm thinking Indian for tonight? I love Indian food, first fact about me."
Somehow, that suits her well. "Good with me." And I smile because here's to new beginnings and a fun and new roommate. I'll forget everything just for tonight.
i was going to update yesterday but i wanted to somewhat edit it but then i got lazy sorry i'm a horrible author :)
sorry for the long wait! i finally finished all these projects and blizzard bags (massachusetts thing, it's stupid) and now i'm free so i can update frequently!...for like two weeks bc then i have finals
so my dad keeps telling me he's hearing strange noises in the basement (it's like a livingroom tho) and that my grandma hears them too when she's up at like 5am and STOP IT DAD NOW I'M SCARED and just now we were just doing our own thing in the basement den and the tv just turned on AND WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT IS THIS BC I DID THE CHARLIE SHIT BC IM SORRY LO SIENTO EL DIABLO POR FAVOR AYUDAME :))) ♥
i'm beginning to begin in superstitions? like the other day a lady at work gave me this crystal and she's a "professional psychic" and everyday she gives roses and crystals to people bc she likes to pay it forward and do random acts of kindness and she inspired me but the next day, the charm seemed to work bc i had a really good day and i found out that like two guys had a crush on me??? and this cute boy who works at the flower shop next door tried hitting on me!!!!...until he found out i wasn't in college...and his face dropped...and so did my heart :( BUT YEAH MAGIC CRYSTALS AND STRANGE NOISES ITS SOMEWHAT A GOOD LIFE
hope you all have a good week and that this starts it off right somewhat. don't forget to be bold and beautiful! stay wild, child.
AND I ALSO CHANGED MY PEN NAME AGAIN.
i was just sitting there and i was like "it's 2015 and i don't want an old lady name anymore" so i went with my sign as my first name and my husband's middle name with an s attached as my last!
OK BYE
p.p.s lol my dad's watching a christ movie EXPEL DAT DEMON FROM OUR HOUSE DAD CLEANSE THYSELF DEMON!!!!!!!