by L. J. Sealey
“Would you like me to keep you informed of her progress? You seem to be the only person we can contact,” the kind female voice asked.
“Yes please. Could I see her?”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to visit until this evening. That’s if all goes well. We want to monitor her very closely this afternoon. Like I said I’ll keep you informed.”
“Thank you.” Lacy had planned on going to the hospital sooner, after what Michael had just said, this morning in fact. It would have been her excuse for avoiding being cooped up in her house with him and his slightly irritating friend but, while that didn’t look like it would happen now, knowing they were bringing Nina around from the sedation today had lifted her mood.
After hanging up the phone she saw that Michael and Evo were looking at her, eagerly awaiting the news. “Hospital? How is she?” Michael asked.
Lacy nodded. “They’re bringing her out of her coma today.” She turned the faucet on and filled a glass of water, then went on to explain what the nurse had told her before popping the pills in her mouth.
“That’s good news.” Evo said after taking a sip from his mug of coffee. “They were just taking her down for assessment when I left earlier.”
Lacy looked up at him, confused. What did he mean? Maybe he’d popped into the hospital before he’d come here. Yeah, that must be it. Michael must have asked him to check on her because he didn’t want to leave Lacy on her own.
As if reading her mind, Michael explained. “I asked Evo to watch the hospital through the night. To make sure Jake didn’t show up again.”
Lacy felt a twinge of guilt over assuming Evo had been whoring himself all night. That’s why he was in the same clothes. He’d been making sure Nina was safe just like Michael had with her and yet she’d mentally scorned him. She looked at him with a grateful smile and a silent apology. “Thank you.” He looked surprised for a second before his expression changed into a cocky smile and he winked at her. Jeez, he was annoying.
She saw him look at Michael and then his face went serious. His eyes darted back to Lacy and between them again before he let out a sigh and got up from the table. “Damn, there’s too much tension in here right now. I’m popping out for a smoke,” he said as he strolled out of the kitchen door leaving it to slam shut behind him.
“You get used to him.” Michael said, as if sensing her annoyance.
She rinsed out her glass and placed it on the drainer. “He’s ok, really. I’m just a little sensitive today.” She grabbed a small plate and contemplated eating some of the left over bacon but still couldn’t, so she put the plate back.
“More coffee?” she asked as she topped up her own mug.
“Not for me. I’m good thanks.”
She felt him watching her as she stood at the sink staring through the small window that overlooked her back garden. The silence between them was uncomfortable and just as she spoke, so did Michael.
“About last−”
“I was−” They both paused.
“You go.” Michael smiled.
She took in a deep breath and tried to dampen down the glow she could feel creeping back into her cheeks. “About last night. . . I wanted to apologise for what happened.”
Michael’s lips curled up. “You already did,” he said, reminding her of her slurred words after he’d pushed her off him.
“Yes, well, I wanted to repeat it now I’m sober. I’m just. . . it’s a bad time for me right now and I’m having trouble keeping my mind off something. I don’t normally behave like that. I was out of line. I’m sorry.” She stared into her coffee; too much of a coward to look at him, then heard the shuffle of his chair and the sound of his heavy boots approaching her.
Michael placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey.” He moved his head to her line of sight so she had no choice but to look at him. “It’s ok. We’re all entitled to get a little drunk once in a while.” His smile was genuine, and she liked the way it lit up his whole face.
She relaxed a little and smiled back at him, the feeling of comfort creeping back over her. It was nice, but at the same time strange, to feel so close to him. It was like she’d known him a lot longer than she actually had.
He shook his head and laughed a little.
“What is it?” she asked, wondering what had tickled him.
“Nothing. . . it’s just, well, maybe next time we should ban the alcohol.”
“Oh. . . God,” she groaned. This was the second time she’d been alone with him and both times she’d drunk too much. “You must think I’m a total wreck.” She said covering her eyes with her hand and shaking her head in shame. She knew she had to get a grip on her emotions but it was still hard for her at this time of year.
She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated.
Michael’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Next Tuesday will be the anniversary of my sister’s death,” she explained, surprised to find herself opening up to him so easily.
Michael inhaled deeply. “I’m so sorry. How long ago did it happen?” He led her back to the table and gestured for her to sit down and sat in the chair beside her. Just then Evo pushed the door open and she saw Michael glance up at him and give a subtle shake of his head. Then there was the sound of the door closing and a mumble as Evo walked away.
“It was a long time ago. Sixteen years. I still have a hard time with it.” She was surprised when Michael’s warm hand covered hers on the table. It felt nice, comforting.
“How old was she? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, not at all. She was nine, three years younger than me.” Lacy couldn’t believe how much was coming out of her mouth. She never really spoke about it to anyone−none of her friends from work, not even her Grandmother when she was alive−so why did she feel she could tell him? All of a sudden it was pouring out of her. Michael sat quietly as she explained what happened all those years ago, including the truth about her mother’s so called career choice and how they were often left on their own. Michael sat quietly, his impassive expression welcome. If he’d shown her any sign of pity she was pretty sure she’d lose it, but he just listened.
She hesitated as she got to the part of the accident. Michael must have sensed her anguish because he squeezed her hand gently, reassuring her that it was ok to go on. A tear broke free and rolled down her left cheek as she told him what had happened, reliving it all over again for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.
Michael moved his chair closer until their knees touched. Then he reached up to wipe her cheek with his thumb. Quietly he said, “It wasn’t your fault.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her breath shook as she heard his words. She wished she could feel that way−that it was just an accident, but ever since that day her mother’s words, the first words that had come from her mouth when the doctors had told them that Beth had died, had played over and over in her mind: “It’s your fault she’s dead! You were supposed to look after her. How could you let this happen to my baby?” Then Sheila broken down, sobbing into the strange man’s chest as he’d looked down at Lacy with what she knew now as disgust.
Michael’s brow lowered even further and his mouth tightened. “She had no right to say those words to you. You were a child left to fend for yourself and your sister. That should never have been your responsibility. It should have been her job. She’s the one responsible for what happened because she left two young children all on their own.”
Lacy was taken aback at the anger in Michael’s voice. He shook his head and then reached up placing both his hands on her face. “It was bad enough that you had to witness what happened to her, but all of these years you’ve carried that unnecessary guilt around with you when it should have been your mother’s burden.”
Lacy could barely speak and she slowly moved his hands away from her face. It was hard for her to accept what he was saying. Nobody had said anything like that to her before. She had just always accepte
d that it was her fault that her sister had run down that alleyway straight into the busy morning traffic. But something about his words hit her hard.
“That should have been her job.” “It should have been your mother’s burden.”
He was right. She thought back to how she used to envy her friend’s parents. The few times her mother had let her go to Sophie’s for dinner, she would sit at the dining room table and watch as her friend’s mother prepared dinner for them. It was much different to anything she’d seen at home and she used to imagine her and Beth sat at a table in their own house with their mother placing a plate full of home cooked food down in front of them both with a loving smile. Afterwards, Lacy’s mother would kiss their imaginary father on the cheek and join them at the table.
That’s how it should have been.
She looked at Michael as a familiar feeling began to rise from the pit of her stomach. Oh No! Not again. This was something that hadn’t happened to her for a long time. Just breathe, she told herself as what little air she seemed to be breathing in began to feel thick in her lungs.
Breathe, dammit!
She began to tremble as the panic attack began to rise from her feet all the way up her legs, reaching her stomach and rising up further until it hit her chest, washing over her as quickly as it used to. She tried to breathe slowly in an attempt to get it under control, trying desperately to remember the exercises her therapist had taught her years ago to calm herself down. But her mind refused to work; she couldn’t remember what to do.
She spoke to Michael, hardly noticing him now as she stood up from the table. “I. . . I have to get some air.” She croaked as she reached for the lock on the French doors that led to her back garden. Her hands were shaking too much to turn the key.
Michael shot up from his chair and rushed to help her. “Jesus! Lacy. You’re trembling. Are you ok?” He unlocked the door and opened it wide.
“Can’t. . . breathe!” she struggled to say as she placed her hand over her throat. Her breaths were getting shorter and shorter now and her vision began to swim. She felt Michael’s arm around her waist as he helped guide her out into the frosty morning sunshine.
“It’s ok, I’ve got you.” Michael said, his voice was gentle, soothing, and as she bent forward and leant her hands on her knees, she felt him gently stroking her back. “Just try to relax. Deep, slow breaths.” She copied his rhythm as he continued to breathe with her.
The feeling of dread that consumed her whole body from head to toe began to slowly subside, washing away from her like a retreating tide. Her heart rate was returning to normal and the dizziness was fading. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth slowly, she began to feel herself again. She continued the pattern for a minute longer as the trembling subsided.
“Better now?” Michael asked while he continued to stroke her back.
She managed to nod her head. She felt relieved, ashamed, and scared that it might not be just a one off−that the panic attacks she’d spent years getting under control had just returned in an instant.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to say before she walked back inside the house.
Michael followed her. “You don’t have to be.” He closed the doors. “Here, sit down and relax ok.”
* * *
Lacy was still clearly shaken from what Michael assumed was some sort of anxiety attack. Talking about her past was understandably difficult and to think that she’d suffered all of this time. . . It must have weighed her down. He didn’t know why he should feel so angry towards her mother but he did. He wanted to somehow take Lacy’s anguish away, to talk to her, tell her everything was going to be ok. It worried him that the thought of someone hurting her plagued him so deeply. But for whatever reason, it did.
“I’m feeling better now. Thanks,” she said to him as he sat down across the table from her, allowing her some space to pull herself together.
“Does that happen often?”
“It used to, at least once a day until I finally got a grip on it. Well, I thought I had until now. I haven’t had one for nearly three years. My therapist taught me to control my breathing and not let them consume me and it was hard at first but I persevered and finally learned to control them. Eventually they went away completely. I don’t know what happened.”
“Well, you’ve had a lot to deal with over the past few days. It’s probably all just become too much for you.” He noticed her hands were still a little shaky. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, honestly. I’m fine. This thing with Nina, It’s just brought some bad memories to the surface.”
The kitchen door opened and Evo strolled in looking pretty grim. “No. Before you say it, I’m not going back outside. I’ve gone through nearly half a pack of smokes since I’ve been out there leaving you two to talk. I don’t think you’re very good for my health.” He joined them at the table. “Now, who the hell do I have to screw to get a cup of coffee in here?”
Michael rolled his eyes. Leave it to Evo and his inappropriate behaviour to kick a fragile moment right in the ass. As Evo sat down next to Lacy, Michael was pleased to see her mouth quirk at the corner as she looked back at him. Evo gave him a friendly wink while she wasn’t looking.
Smart bastard.
“Hey, I’m going to make some more breakfast.” Evo was on fire with his manners this morning, jumping up and going straight to the refrigerator and grabbing some eggs, more bacon and what looked like cheese in a can.
“God help us.” Michael said.
“Not much he could do to stop me filling my stomach right now.” Evo threw some bacon in the pan then cracked two eggs in there as well and began to fry it all up together.
“I’m sure he could teach you some manners though.” Michael looked at Lacy and mouthed, “Sorry.” She gave him a half smile but looked like her mind was somewhere else. “Penny for them. . . ” he said, using the phrase she’d used on him the other day.
“I wish he was real. . . then maybe he could help her,” she said as she stared down at the table, ignoring all the clatter coming from Evo.
“You don’t believe in God, Lacy?” Michael hadn’t been that convinced himself at one point, but given his current situation, and what he’d seen over the short time he’d been dead, he couldn’t be more convinced about God’s existence. It was hard to ignore when you’d been plunged into a world where fighting demons and vengeful spirits had become a regular part of your day to day routine. He had to be real. Although, where he was and why he’d let this happen to him he had no idea.
“How could I? After what happened to my sister? My mother never really spoke about God so what little I knew of him I’d learned in school. It was enough to make me believe he was real. But after”−she hesitated−“the accident all my beliefs were gone.”
Michael noticed Evo had gone quiet and looked up to find him watching them from across the room. Evo raised an eyebrow at him, he too had seen the things that Michael had; fought with them in the same way but right now he looked to have the same understanding as Michael did for Lacy feeling the way that she did.
“I don’t know why these things happen. I can’t give you the answer to that. But I know God exists even though I can’t explain to you how. Not right now anyway−”
“It wouldn’t matter what you said,” Lacy interrupted, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to believe that.”
Michael inhaled a deep breath. He truly understood her reasons but he tried a different approach anyway.
“Have you never had anything happen to you, I mean, any time in your life which has made you think that, just maybe, someone was looking out for you? Could’ve been something as simple as seeing something that’s made you cross the street right before that cab drove straight through a puddle that would have drenched you otherwise?
“Or, for example, I remember an employee of mine many years ago−Joseph I think his name was−had left his house one morning to come to work as he always did, and had
headed to the subway station to get the seven forty-five train into the city, the same one he always travelled on. This particular day, he was late into the office, when I asked why, he explained to me that he’d left an important file at home and had to go back to get it. He missed his train and had to get another one which took him on a different route. Later that morning, reports came in that a train heading from Granville into the city had de-railed, causing the front carriage to burst into flames.”
Lacy sat upright, “I remember that. It was all over the news. Forty-eight people died and a load more badly injured. It was tragic.”
“Yeah. Didn’t they put a memorial plaque outside the station to remember the dead?” Evo mumbled; mouth half full.
“Yes, that’s right.” Lacy replied.
Michael just nodded. “It was the train Joseph would have been on had he not left his file at home.”
Lacy gasped and held her hand to her mouth.
“Someone was looking out for him. Call it fate, divine intervention. . . whatever. But he wasn’t meant to die that day. Needless to say, after the news, I gave him the rest of the day off.”
Lacy looked stunned for a moment and sat quietly as if she didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll make some fresh coffee.” Michael said as he picked up her used mug from the table in front of her.
“Ok,” she whispered.
He walked over to the kitchen and gave Evo a look of disbelief as he watched him place his dishes in the sink and begin to wash them. “You feeling ok buddy?” Michael asked, placing his hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t everyday he got to witness his friend being all domesticated.
Evo shrugged. “Just doing my bit.”
“Hey. Actually, there may be something.” Lacy said swinging herself around on her chair to face them as Michael filled the coffee machine with fresh ground beans from the jar on the counter.
“Go on,” he urged.
