"Change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like a stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass."
~John Steinbeck~
***
“Rossum.”
“Hmm?”
“I asked you a question, where are you today?” Bea laughs.
“Oh – I’m sorry. I was just… thinking. What did you ask me, again?”
“I asked if you were excited about your trip this weekend… I’m guessing you’re not.”
“No I am!” You don’t sound it. “Really, I am!” I cap off my statement with a laugh so fake that I catch myself welcoming Bea to slap me across the face.
“Uh-huh.” I’m glad she knows me well enough to occasionally catch me in a lie. I’m not at the top of my game today.
“Look I am excited. I’m just… nervous, like, I’m not really sure what I’m stepping in to with Mac’s parents. He isn’t fond of them but he has never made much effort to actually detail why.”
“Well what do you expect? You don’t tell him anything about your life either.”
I shoot her an irritated glance. “Bea, I do tell him some things. And besides, he’s much more open about his past than I am. He doesn’t seem to mind either. ”
“I think it’s odd that you’ve known each other for this long and he still doesn’t ask you questions about your parents. Or that you haven’t told him.” She eyes me at that, but quickly looks away as if sensing that reprimanding me today would be a poor decision on her part.
I take a sip of my soda. “From what he has told me, he has enough on his plate with his own family; they pressure him often, and there is some sort of animosity between he and his dad that I can’t put my finger on yet.” It’s something we have in common, but it worries me that I will be witness to the first encounter between Mac and his father that has occurred in years; I haven’t even seen his parents, save graduation day. My father and I are kicking and screaming the minute we are in the same room as each other, and I see him at least once a week. I don’t imagine the amount of space Mac has been granted by his father will lead to a sweet reunion.
“Well they may really like you! That might ease the tension!” Bea can’t even finish her first sentence without bursting into a fit of giggles, and my laughter follows hers.
“Oh yes I am sure I will charm the pants off of his preacher father and socialite mother. I have a knack for gaining strangers’ affections.”
“Oh stop with the negativity. I think you can be very charming, when the situation calls for it.”
I don’t answer her, distracted by the incessant buzzing of my phone in my pocket. Four texts from Mac, all containing lists of things to pack; we aren’t leaving for another two days, but I know his mind is definitely not focused on the present.
“You think I’m nervous… Mac has been on edge the past couple days, constantly jumping about the apartment and pacing and stuff. I swear, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had a conversation with him where he wasn’t mentally present in the last seventy-two hours.” The closer the trip gets, the more panicked he becomes. I can’t even comfort him, because I’m equally as terrified and his nerves just set me off.
BJ slurps her iced tea before hesitantly probing a topic field we don’t often open for discussion. “Have you guys said it yet?”
I glance up from reading Mac’s third list to meet Bea’s eyes. “Hmm? Oh, said what?”
“You know…” she raises her eyebrows at me to indicate the obviousness of her question, but I’m still confused. “Lucky. Have you told him you love him yet?”
I choke on my breath. “What? N-no, no I definitely have not. Christ, Bea, we aren’t that serious.”
Her mouth drops incredulously. “Lucky! You’ve been dating a year –“
“Yes I’m aware but –“
“You LIVE together, for God’s sake. You have to love a man to share his toilet, dear.”
“I’m sure we do, we just haven’t said it yet. And that’s fine with me.”
“You’re sure you do? Honey –“
“Beatrice Jacks, you haven’t been in a serious relationship in a long time; in fact, I can’t remember if you ever were. That being said, I don’t see how you can dictate how long’s too long,” I snap with a roll of my eyes.
She clinches her mouth shut at that and I turn back to my phone, cupping the screen to block out the sunlight. Bea stays silent for several minutes, much to my surprise. Thankfully, our lunch is cut short when I am called into work. We pay and she walks ahead of me to the car, still irked by my words at the table.
The first few minutes of the drive are silent, until BJ finally says, “I really hate it when you use my full name.”
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The hospital is buzzing, as usual. I am returning to the reception station when Lisa taps me on the shoulder.
“She’s back again, Lucky. I figured you’d want to handle it.” Her tone is sympathetic and I immediately know who she’s referring to; she knows how I feel about that girl.
“Oh… thanks – thank you, Lisa.” I smile to reassure her, and she returns the gesture and hands me what I assume is Elle’s file. This is the third time in four months she has come in, and based on Lisa’s expression I would suppose that this time is not any less painful to digest than the others.
I have to weave through the crowded hallways to get to her room, and I knock lightly to let her know I’m coming in. I open the door, and have to swallow a gasp; this is definitely worse than her last visit. Her face is literally battered beyond recognition, her hair is in knots, and I can tell just by looking at the way she has her foot cradled on the bed that her ankle is fractured. Oh Elle.
I purse my lips before speaking, and choose my words carefully. “Elle… what happened?”
“I just fell down some stairs at the home – they are concrete so the damage was worse than it would be had they been wooden and, you know, up to code.” She smiles wryly, but I see past her explanation.
“And your ankle?”
“Landed on it. Hurts like a bitch, too.”
I scoff. “Yeah I bet.” We have a policy: she lies to me about her injuries and I don’t call her on them. She’s been coming in for years now, and I’ve made it clear that I handle her case because I know if anyone else were to do it, they’d scare her off and who knows what she’d do with herself.
She sucks her teeth. “So how soon can I get out of here?”
“As soon as I can fix the mess you’ve made of yourself.” I am teasing, but only partially, and I know she knows how not ignorant I am of her situation. I disinfect one of the needles and wait for the false solution I know is she’ll suggest.
“Well I should probably let my friends know so they can come get me –“
“Your friends can’t come get you, Elle. You know this, so stop pushing it every time you come in here. Only a guardian can release you, so when you get the guts to tell them of your whereabouts let me know and we will take it from there. Until then, relax and let me see your arm.”
She doesn’t move to let me take a blood sample, so I grab it myself and tie the pressure band. She huffs but stays still while I push the needle into her arm. “We will have to do an examination and x-ray later, but I’m just gonna give you some pain meds for now and they’ll move you to another room, okay?”
She is still irritated with me, but nods in understanding. “Yeah okay.” She says nothing else as I clean up the mess and wipe down her face with disinfectant and bandage the still-bleeding wounds.
I turn to leave the room but before I reach the door, Elle finds her voice again; it’s decidedly quieter than her usually commanding, confident tone. “Can you let me know if anyone comes to see me? Just before you let them in, I mean?” I turn to face her, and her eyes are fearful in a way I am unaccustomed to seeing.
Not wanting to embarrass her, I just nod. “Yeah.”
I push the handle on the door, but turn around to say, “Happy birthday, Elle.” I could be imagining things, but I swear I see her smile as I close the door.
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I drop her file on the top of the pile at the edge of the reception desk after calling downstairs for the x-rays to be taken and then sent up to her room. This whole situation makes me sick, and the overwhelming feeling of knowing my hands are tied as far as dealing with her unfortunate circumstances, no matter how much of them she brought upon herself, is weighing particularly heavily on my shoulders today.
“Everything alright?” Mac’s voice startles me from my thoughts.
I shake my head. “Oh hey – yeah it’s fine, just… yeah Elle is back, so…”
“Oh. What happened this time?”
“She looks horrible, Mac. Horrible. Her face is… it’s just beaten. Like she was just beaten to a pulp. No fifteen year old girl should be here alone, on their birthday, because they were beat up by their ‘friend.’”
“You think that’s what happened?”
“I know that’s what happened. I know that’s what happened and I know that they don’t know she’s here yet. When they do… they’ll show up, or one of ‘em will.” I furiously shake my head in defiance. “No. No, they will not see her this time. They will not come in here and –“
“Babe you can’t deny her visitors.”
I lift my head to look him directly in the eyes. “I can and I will. We will not discuss this again,” I reply as quietly as I can, leaning towards him to insure that he hears me clearly. “She is in bad shape, and no one that would have the audacity to visit her, should be in the first place.”
“And if her parents come?” he counters.
“They won’t; she doesn’t have any. She has guardians, but she’s not living with them. She hasn’t said it, just like she hasn’t said a lot of things, but I know. Mac… if you had seen her… She just looks so broken.” I shake my head again, and my voice comes out in a whine. “She’s only fifteen…”
“I know, Lue. I know.” He rubs my shoulder and plants a kiss in my messy hair. It’s always surprising, how much he understands. I’ve told him so little about my childhood, about all I went through when I was Elle’s age, yet he still understands it all. Will I ever deserve him?
I rub his hand gently. “Hey are you off with me? I leave at 8 or so.”
“No I’m here ‘til 11. Why?”
“Oh ok. I was just gonna ask if you wanted to take care of your extra-long list together, but I can do it myself.” Mac’s face immediately contorts in anxiety, and I wish I hadn’t mentioned anything related to this supposed trip from Hell.
“No… No Babe I will take care of it after work tonight, you just go home and sleep. Or pack. Yeah make sure you’re packed.”
“Mac I can do it...”
“No I’d rather do it, okay? Don’t worry about it, I got it.” He sends me a reassuring smile, but it’s insincere.
“Mac –“
“Hey Lucky I have to go check on a patient, so I’ll see you later okay?” He kisses me again, this time on the lips, and rushes off before I can protest further. He has closed himself off from me since his mother’s invitation last week; in fact, this was the most physical interaction we’ve had in days due to his stress level and consistent distance from any sort of discussion on the topic of his family. This upcoming weekend has made me wonder, for the first time, if he is as secretive of his past as I am of mine.
I stand to rifle through files, looking for Mrs. Waterston; I haven’t looked in on her in a couple hours. Distantly I hear the elevator ding, and glance up to see who is stepping onto the floor; I literally feel my eyes narrow.
He strides in confidently, and I swear the air has shifted. Not even because of the swirl of emotions in my ever-cloudy mind regarding Elle and Mac, but because he willed it to; he slowed down time, all on his own accord. It’s almost mesmerizing, and I’m caught off-guard.
And then he opens his mouth.
“Hi. Peter.” He’s cocky, like my father. His smile and inflection on his name give it away instantly.
“Hi.”
He stares at me expectantly, as if waiting for a handout or a sloppy kiss on the face for just being himself. “How may I help you…”
“Peter,” he finishes shortly.
“Right, Peter,” I smile. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“I…” he huffs and clears his throat, regaining his composure. Clearly, his lack of ability to charm me has him flustered. “I start today.”
I scoff. “You do, huh? Is there a specific reason for your current dress?”
The words drip with obvious disdain, but I use them as an excuse to let my eyes wander down his body, before traveling back up to meet his arrogant features. Between the suit, the jawline, and the eyes, I can tell; he’s a looker, and he knows it.
“I don’t see anything wrong with what I’m wearing…” his smile is confident and loose, but his gaze is oddly intense, and I’m suddenly aware of our surroundings as well as the crushing and almost familiar discomfort his eyes bring me.
I open my mouth to speak again, but his attention is no longer on me. BJ has walked in.
“Hon’, you left your phone in my car. I’m on my way to work so I figured I’d drop it off.” She runs behind the counter to hand it to me and swiftly kisses my cheek; it’s then that she notices Peter. “Oh hi.”
“Hi.” Everything he does is magnetic, and BJ is already captivated; it’s written all over her beautiful face.
“Yeah, hi. Thanks, Bea.”
She catches my tone and taps the counter with her hands before hurrying to the elevator, blowing me a kiss before stepping inside. Peter has watched all of this with interest and when she is finally out of sight, he turns to me with raised eyebrows, as if to say he’s impressed. Ew.
“Yeah… you’re talking to the wrong person. I can page Dr. White down here or let him know you’re coming to his office; he usually handles this… sort of thing.”
“Good.” He flashes me a phony smile and trails down the hallway as I pick up the phone. I guess he knew to head up to the office instead of waiting around by me. He must already know his way around the wings.
“Dr. White? Hey yeah it’s Rossum. There’s a Peter…” Damn I didn’t get his last name. Before I can flounder any further he says, “Oh yes! I’ve been expecting him. Do you know him? He said you – oh here he is now. Thank you, Lucky.”
“Uh ye’sir, no problem.” He hangs up before I finish my sentence. He said I what?
“Lucky? The x-rays are finished.” Lisa breezes by me with several syringes in her hand, and disappears around the corner.
“Yeah okay.” I grab Elle’s file and make the trek to her room, still distracted. At her door, I pause to insert a note in her file in case there is trouble or questions while I’m gone – no visitors, under any circumstances. All the while a question floats in the back of my mind: who is Peter? What am I missing?