The Evolutionist

by Rena Mason

  “I wanted to ask Pat something. Give me a minute. And no fishing around in the bags.”

  When I get to Pat’s room, it appears he hasn’t moved since I left him this morning. “Pat, please tell me you’ve eaten today.”

  “Oh, hey Mom.” He rubs his eyes. “Hang on, guys.” He pauses the game. “Yeah, I had a sandwich. What’s up?”

  “If you get anymore nosebleeds, I want you to tell me.”

  “Why?”

  “You might have to see a specialist.”

  His eyes widen into bloodshot discs. “You don’t think I’ve got what you did?”

  “No. Absolutely not. I’m sure it’s from the lack of humidity, but if it keeps happening, maybe there’s something they can do to help.”

  “Oh, shit. You had me scared for a sec.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, oh wow.”

  “Enough with the swearing, and by the way, have you heard anything else about those sunspots? Have they gotten worse?”

  “I’m sure they have.”

  “It hasn’t been on the news.”

  “That’s because they don’t want people to freak out. It would cause a worldwide panic. It’s one of those conspiracy things.”

  “What? Are you being serious?”

  “Let me put it this way…I’d be wearing fifty plus SPF sunscreen if I were you.”

  “Okay, I’m done. I think those video games are making you paranoid.”

  “I don’t play spy games, Mom.” He presses a button. “Hey, guys, I’m back.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Nine hours until the surgery center fundraiser and the butterflies are already having their way with my insides. One more thing I’ll have to keep to myself. I came downstairs for a second cup of coffee and to build up my nerves to give Tara a call, but by the time I get around to it, I’ll have finished the entire pot. I decide baking cinnamon rolls will better occupy my time.

  No doubt Jordan will be at the party tonight, but I’d like to have someone else there to keep me grounded. Not that Tara is someone I would have ever thought of as being grounded, but right now, she’s all I got.

  “Morning,” my dad says. He and my mom come into the kitchen like animals being led by their noses.

  “Are you making breakfast?” my mom says.

  “I put some cinnamon rolls in the oven. They should be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Homemade?” she says.

  “Close enough.”

  “I’ll have two,” my dad says.

  “Hungry?” I say. “Working overtime in your dreams again?”

  “Maybe, how’d you sleep? Everything still hunky-dory? Your mother says you were having trouble remembering things yesterday.”

  “I slept fine.” I’m a bad liar, too and my dad is more likely to pick up on it, where my mother won’t. I was awake all night waiting to hear the tones again. I wanted to ask them about the bleeding disease but they stayed away. “I didn’t have any trouble remembering anything yesterday. I simply had the wrong address.”

  My dad looks over at my mom as she’s about to sip her coffee. “See,” he says. “I told you it was nothing to worry about.”

  “Humph,” she huffs down into her cup. She raises a brow, gives my dad an evil eye then puts the cup to her lips.

  The oven buzzer goes off, and I pull out the tray of steaming cinnamon rolls. “It’s a good thing Pat didn’t hear you say hunky-dory, Dad. That would’ve made him laugh. He’s always telling me I sound old school.”

  “Those look really good,” he says, completely ignoring what I’d just said. He’s too focused on the rolls. His body posture and facial expressions make him look like the Big Bad Wolf about to pounce and devour.

  “They’ll have to cool for a minute,” I say.

  When I’m done plating the rolls, I sit down with my parents and eat breakfast. It feels like a million years since it’s been just the three of us. I remember being lonely sometimes growing up. I was never one of those kids that looked up at the stars and wondered if we were alone in the universe, but I did wonder why my parents never bothered to have any more kids. My dad always used to say it was because they broke the mold when they made me. And he’s still goofy like that. Mom would say, “That’s just how it went.” Makes me wonder where circumstances are leading me now. Go, and let my mom tell Patrick the same thing when he asks her why, or stay, and be responsible for the demise of everything living.

  “Where’s Jon?” my dad says.

  “I’m sure he’s in the office. He said he had some work to catch up on.”

  “Work? He better get down here before all these rolls disappear.”

  “Save him one, dear,” my mom says.

  “Tonight’s the big night for you two,” he says. “He needs to start the day out right with a little breakfast.”

  “They’re just sweet rolls, Dad. I don’t think their nutritional value is worth calling him down for.”

  “Well in that case, I’ll help myself to another.”

  “Go ahead. He won’t mind.” I get up from the table, put my dirty dish in the sink then grab the coffee pot and top off my cup. I take the phone from the counter and dial Tara’s number.

  “Sweetie, is it really you,” she answers.

  “Hi. Yeah, it’s me. They set me free a couple days ago.”

  “And everything’s good, right?”

  “Yeah, great. It was just a freak incident or something.”

  “Freak incident? That’s putting it lightly. Rumor has it you died.”

  “Tara, if I were dead, I wouldn’t have called.”

  “No. Well, you know what I mean…for a minute or whatever, they lost you. Yours sounds like a case for that House guy on TV. He’d know what’s wrong with you.”

  Okay, maybe even less grounded than I originally thought. “Are you coming to the party tonight?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, even though Jordan will be there. God, so much has happened. There’s a lot I have to tell you. It’s going to have to wait, though. I was just on my way out for a manicure. Wait. You’re going?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

  “I just thought…well…it doesn’t matter. I’m so happy you’ll be there.”

  “And I’m glad you will, too.” I take it she and Jordan haven’t made up yet.

  “Come and find me as soon as you get there. We’ve got some things to discuss. Gotta go now, bye, kisses, and see you soon. Hugs. Can’t wait to see you. Bye.”

  She truly is a Tara and Gone with the Wind.

  “You didn’t ask her about that store,” my mom says from the kitchen table.

  “Oh yeah, I totally forgot.” Shit. I also failed to remember not to say that I forgot. Meanwhile, my mom looks over at my dad with an, I told you so expression on her face.

  * * *

  Jon looks as handsome as ever in his tux. “How’d I do with the bow tie?” he says from the closet.

  “It’s perfect. When did you get so good at tying bows?”

  “Just one of many hidden talents. Stick around. I have a second performance later on, where I’ll hopefully be pulling some new surgeons out of my hat.” He steps out, then leans down to me sitting at the vanity and kisses the back of my head. “You’re looking pretty hot.”

  “Pretty or hot? It’s not possible to pull both looks off.”

  “You did.”

  “Aw, I love you.”

  “Aren’t you glad you keep me around?”

  “I knew there was a reason. Hey, were you being serious about getting new surgeons?”

  “Yep.” He adjusts his bow tie in the mirror.

  “And the fundraiser hasn’t even started yet. That’s impressive.”

  “You can thank Jordan for that, too.”

  “Really? What did she have to do with it?”

  “Don’t say it like that. Jordan’s done a lot for you, the fundraiser, and the surgery center. Oh, and do me a favor, don’t drink tonight, okay.”


  “What?”

  “One, I don’t think it’s a good idea since you were just recently discharged from the hospital, and Jordan is trying really hard to work through the Twelve-Step Program.”

  “Oh…that’s…good news.”

  “It really is. I knew you’d be supportive.” He gently pats my shoulder then steps back into the closet. “I’m heading downstairs in a minute. You about ready?”

  “Yeah…almost.”

  “Want me to take anything down?”

  “Uh…my shoes, and um, my black sequin clutch, please.”

  “These are more comfortable shoes?” He steps out with a wry expression on his face carrying my clutch and brand new pair of crystallized Louboutins. “The heels must be five inches high. You’ll break your neck.”

  Even in my state of emotional shock, they’re still dazzling. “I’ll be fine. They’re really not that high, you’re not seeing the platform under the sole. Honey, I’ve been wearing shoes like that for years.”

  “Okay, okay. It’s definitely a good thing you’re not drinking then. You’ll need all your focus just to walk. Don’t be long. I’ll be downstairs. I think your mom and dad want to take some pictures, too. Kind of feels like prom, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah…prom.”

  He leaves, but a wisp of his vivacious spirit lingers a moment longer. When all of him is truly gone, I turn back around, look in the mirror, and put the finishing touches on my face. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. I know in my heart Jon could never be unfaithful, but I feel uneasy. Like an animal sensing danger. Something that should be the least of my problems has taken center stage. Maybe it was there all along behind the curtains, and I just didn’t See it. And when did I become so blind?

  * * *

  Jordan is greeting guests at the door when we arrive. “Oh, Stacy, you look wonderful.” She puts her arms around me, careful to keep some distance between us. She kisses out at the air on either side of my head then steps back. “I can’t wait to catch up on everything, but right now I’ve got to be up here. Jon why don’t you stay with me and Stacy you go on in and get to mingling.”

  Jon steps forward and immediately begins shaking hands and talking to people coming through the entrance. Jordan smiles at me, then moves in next to him. That should be me.

  I walk away in a daze, suddenly wondering if I go back out to the desert whether or not Dr. Light’s building will be there. If they will be there…I look up and notice a bartender staring at me. I can’t remember how long I’ve been standing next to the cash bar. I can’t say exactly how it is I even got next to the bar or if I spoke to anyone along the way, but I know that if I get in my car and drive out into the open desert, I will wind up where Dr. Light’s building is—was. Is it just me though, or is it them? The others, and their influence of forgetfulness on me. I do seem to be forgetting things lately—recent memories of the here and now. Why is it that they can’t remember the past of how they came to be? It could be for some of the same reasons humans forget—something to do with chemical imbalance, like Alzheimer’s. Maybe I could help them remember somehow. I wonder if the memories of the lives I had on Earth would fade away if I went with them. There could be important information contained in my memories that might be useful. Since all thoughts are shared. It should make memories last longer. Not be forgotten.

  “There you are.” I turn in the direction of the voice and see Tara walking toward me. “You look great!” She steps in and gives me a real hug. “Geez, what’re you a zero now? Maybe a coma is the best way to lose weight.”

  “What?”

  She lets go of me and steps back. “Just kidding, and why are you empty handed?” Tara leans up to the bar and orders two Appletinis.

  “Oh no, I can’t. I promised Jon I wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Drink.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me. Who the hell’s going to come to a party like this and not drink? Here take it. We’ll have them over there in the corner next to the bar so he won’t see you. He looked pretty occupied when I saw him at the door anyway.”

  “He did?”

  “Well, not by choice. Jordan was all over him.”

  “She was?”

  Tara faces me with a serious look. “You know she and Jon have been seen out lunching together.”

  “She’s been helping him with the fundraiser and surgery center.”

  “Helped with what? You had all the work done already.”

  I swallow a mouthful of Appletini. “There were last minute details. Jon told me she got some surgeons to come over.”

  “Surgeons that have worked on her, probably. I’m sure she threatened to stop using them and referring them if they didn’t go over to Jon’s little surgery center.”

  “Really, Tara, I think you’re reading more into this than there is. Especially after what happened with Cally, I just don’t think it’s possible they’re having an affair.”

  “Just sayin’…” She swirls her martini glass and takes a sip.

  “Then say something else, ‘cause you’re starting to piss me off. Tell me…did you know about Gail and Bill’s affair?”

  “Not straight up, not until recently, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve been kind of hanging out with some of the Green Valley girls. You know…the ones that got the show. Well, Bill’s office is on that side of town and some of the girls told me that Bill and Gail have been seen out and about together for months. Maybe even close to a year. To be honest, I think that’s how Gail’s divorce got rolling. Her soon-to-be-ex, Steven, must have found out.”

  “Poor Cally.”

  “Yeah, but I think she kind of knew. Come on. What woman doesn’t?” She gives me a funny look.

  I down the rest of the Appletini in one gulp. “She should have talked to us about it. We should have talked more.”

  “I don’t think anybody in Summerlin talked more than us.”

  “About serious things, though.”

  “Oh please, nobody wants to have meaningful conversations.”

  The alcohol has made my head warm and fuzzy. I walk over and put the glass down on the bar. “Would you like another?” the bartender asks with a big smile.

  “No, thank you.”

  “I’ll take one,” Tara says.

  The bartender grins and winks at her. His charm won’t be lost there. I look at her face and she’s smiling from ear to ear. I’m either drunk after only one drink, or she’s flirting with a bartender. Everything seems wrong in the world, and I’ve either been blind, or oblivious, or both, to it all this time and just recently awoke when I came out of the coma.

  “I’m feeling a little tired. I think I’ll ask Jon to go.”

  “It was good seeing you again. And I was only joking about the talking serious stuff. If you have something important you want to talk about then just do it. Better that than going off and trying to kill yourself. I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”

  “Thanks Tara. You’re such a good friend.” But now I See. She’s not, not really. She’s too occupied with the bartender handing her another drink to notice my expression of disgust. I walk away.

  Jon and Jordan are standing in the doorway talking to one another even though it’s obvious everyone attending the party is already inside. I step up and interrupt them. “I’m feeling a little tired. Would it be all right if we leave?”

  “Yeah…okay.”

  “I can take you home,” Jordan says. “You should stay, Jon.”

  I take another step closer. “Thanks for everything, Jordan. The set-up and decorations are fabulous. You’ve done a great job, and I hate to leave, but Jon is taking me home now.”

  “Of course,” she says. “I just thought I’d offer in case he wanted to mingle with some future prospects.”

  “We’ve been here for a while, and he hasn’t done much mingling as far as I could tell.”

  �
�I’ll go get the car,” Jon says. “You should come wait outside and get some fresh air.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”

  “You two go on then, and don’t worry about a thing. I’m glad you could make it out for a bit, Stacy.” Her Texas twang has never sounded so intentionally condescending, and I want nothing more than to be far, far away. “I heard you got a chance to see Cally while you were in the hospital. It’s a real shame what happened there.”

  “Yes, it really is. And we should all be ashamed for not speaking up. Goodbye, Jordan.”

  As soon as I step out, the cool air soothes my hot head. In fact, it’s never felt this good—the cold. Jon pulls up in the car then gets out and runs around to open the passenger door for me. I look back and see Jordan standing in the doorway, watching us. Jon drives away and I glance at the entrance one last time. Jordan is no longer there.

  “Did you see Terry Swanson and his wife at the party?” Jon says.

  “What? No.” I’m staring out the window. Thinking about how the cold comforts me.

  “He set up another appointment for an MRI sometime next week.”

  “Oh.”

  “The party was great wasn’t it? Jordan really came through.”

  “Yeah…great.”

  “I saw Tara come in. Jordan wouldn’t greet her. Did you get a chance to see her?”

  “I did.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  * * *

  It’s not late when we get home, but my parents are already in bed. Jon goes down to the office while I take my shower. Strange, I wanted nothing more than to come home when I was at the party, but now that I’m here it doesn’t feel right, either. Everything is different. I am not the same. It’s up to me to make things right again.

  I lie in bed and wait for Jon to get in after his shower. When he finally comes to bed, I wiggle over and put my arms around him. “Congratulations.” I kiss him on the back of his neck.

  “Yeah, I really think it was good this year.”