by Hunter Shea
When Andrew shifted to put his beer on the coffee table, she winced.
“What hurts most?” he asked.
He’d long ago learned never to simply ask what hurt. Everything hurt, all the time. It was easier to explain which body part had taken the spotlight for the moment.
“My knees are killing me.”
He pulled the blanket away to inspect the swollen melons she called knees. “I can get some frozen peas.”
“After dinner. Maybe. What’s it going to do other than make me cold?”
He gingerly touched her knees. “Believe it or not, it will help with the swelling.”
“So I can forget all these doctors and meds and cover myself with frozen peas?”
“Absolutely! Well, we don’t want to put all our eggs in the pea basket. We should mix it up with some frozen broccoli, corn, and carrots. Maybe even a bag of Tater Tots.”
“What about ice cream?”
“Too messy. Besides, Buttons will devour it before it’s had a chance to do its thing.”
She looked over at Buttons, pizza sauce stains on his muzzle. “He does love ice cream.”
“And like any child, he hates his veggies. So how about I go to ShopRite, raid the frozen food aisle, and we can flush these meds? It’ll save us a lot of dough. And we can eat the treatment. Two birds with one stone.”
Kate took a bite of her cold pizza.
“Can we reinvest that dough into pizza dough at Milano’s?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely. You and Buttons will reek of cheese and pepperoni.”
“I’d love that.”
“You would.”
She nearly dropped her pizza when a sharp pain blossomed in the center of her chest. She hissed, eyes slamming shut. The pain passed quickly.
“You okay?”
All traces of humor blanched from Andrew’s face.
She nodded, taking a moment to catch her breath. Because her lupus had gone undetected for so long, it’d had plenty of time to do a number on her heart. Nothing save a heart transplant would erase the years of damage, and no one would put a healthy heart in someone in her condition.
“You know, if you wanted me to shut up, you could have just told me to zip it,” Andrew said, rubbing her back. She didn’t even notice that he’d taken her plate from her hands and moved the tray onto the table.
When she felt like she could breathe again, she said. “Yeah, like you ever stop talking.”
“I never talk during movies.”
“And I appreciate that. Now, can I have my pizza back?”
“You sure it’s passed?”
Keeping one hand on her chest, she nodded. “I’m sure.”
But she wasn’t sure at all. She could only be hopeful.
* * *
After dinner, they sat and watched a couple of sitcom reruns until she fell asleep. Sometime around midnight, Andrew roused her and slowly walked her into bed. He had no sooner tucked her in, given her her medicine, and gotten a cold bottle of water from the fridge than he was asleep, sawing logs.
She used to envy his ability to shut down like a robot who’d had its power pack removed, like the one in the old Lost in Space TV show. And unlike her, he slept like a beatific child, curled in a semifetal position, hands tucked under his head and just the trace of a smile on his lips.
Sure, she could nod off at the drop of a hat, but her sleep was a combination of narcotics and her immune system wearing her down to a nub, even if she’d done nothing more than sit up during the day.
And of course, now that he was asleep, she was wide awake.
Worse, it was one of those nights when death seemed so close, she was afraid to close her eyes. A big part of her knew it was irrational, but she was still tethered to those times in the past when the possibility of never waking up again was a reality. Experience had taught her that no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake the feeling. All she could do was stay awake and ride it out until exhaustion finally pulled her under.
It was a bona fide bad feels night. Sitting up in the bed, she peered into the corners of the room, expecting to spot her shadowy voyeur.
Kate’s hands twisted the covers.
Something huffed in the dark.
Buttons lay by her feet, unmoving.
She quickly fumbled for the remote, turned on the TV and found a channel that played shows from the seventies. Light. She needed light in the room, even if it was flickering images of Mannix.
Kate reached across the sheets and laid her hand on Andrew’s back, feeling the gentle rhythm of his slumber. She’d scared herself and wanted him to be awake with her, assuring her that there was no shadow in the room, no wraith waiting for her to let her guard down.
Let him sleep, she thought. Put your big-girl panties on and deal with it. You’re freaking yourself out like a big dummy.
Mannix gave way to Hawaii Five-O, then Hazel and The Flying Nun. She was bored and bleary-eyed, but the bad feels wouldn’t leave her.
Sleep didn’t reclaim her until dawn. By the time she awoke, Andrew was long gone.
Chapter Two
Buttons stood with his front paws on the front of the washing machine, sniffing at the detergent. Kate closed the lid and leaned against it, petting the dog. She’d opened the blinds today, low gray clouds promising rain in the early afternoon. A mail truck ambled down the empty street. There weren’t many stay-at-home moms or retirees in their neighborhood. By nine a.m. on weekdays, Kate pretty much had the entire street to herself.
Which was no comfort.
Kate’s tablet chirped. It was time to change her pain patch.
“Come on, But-But.”
She had a cane and a walker, but by and large, she refused to use them. She knew it was foolish and just this side of stupid, especially since no one would see her shuffling around, but it was important she prove to herself she could still walk on her own, no matter how much it hurt and how often she teetered or fell.
Sooner or later, the day would come when it was no longer an option. Then, she’d grin and bear it. But until that day…
The fentanyl box was on the table beside the daybed. She pulled the old patch off her arm and folded it over and over like origami, the remaining glue holding the tiny parcel together. She’d wait to throw it in the garbage with the remains of the wet dog food that Buttons didn’t finish. The abuse of fentanyl had hit epidemic proportions. Addicts went through garbage cans looking for used patches, sucking out whatever foul-tasting drug remained.
Kate didn’t want to be responsible for someone overdosing. So she mixed her used patches with the worst trash she could muster and hoped that kept any garbage picking junkies out. The dosage she received was the highest one could get. After three days, it might be time for her to slap on a new patch because the efficacy had worn out, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still too much for some desperate addict to handle.
Normally, Andrew was there when she changed her patch, watching over her to make sure there were no problems and she wasn’t about to accidentally overdose. But the pain was really bad and she couldn’t wait until he got home.
Buttons watched the entire process, barking once after she’d adhered the new patch to her upper arm.
“I’m glad you approve.”
She shuffled back to the kitchen, picked up his dog dish, and stuck the old patch in the middle of the ground meat in jellied gravy. She tipped the remains into the garbage under the sink and took a few moments to collect herself.
The washer timer said the load she’d put in would be done in twenty minutes. She’d keep herself busy until then so she was awake to throw the clothes in the dryer. With any luck, she’d even get them out and folded before Andrew came home.
Buttons scratched at the back door, whimpering.
“Of course yo
u wait until I get all the way to this side of the house to want to go out.”
Her hip popped but mercifully didn’t dislocate, and Buttons ambled out the open door. Hip dislocations were a bitch. They hurt like red, white, and blue blazes and were not easy to pop back in. Sometimes she needed Andrew to pull on her leg, the dull, wet thup it made assuring her it was back where it was supposed to be.
Rubbing at her hip, she watched Buttons sniff around the forsythia until he found his favorite spot back by what she and Andrew called their penis tree. It looked like a ten-foot green dildo, helped along by Andrew’s careful trimming to keep it a conversation piece.
By the time Buttons slipped back inside, her phone had started ringing. She looked at the display before answering.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, settling onto the daybed and flipping through channels with the sound down low. There went Jerry Springer giving his final thought, another judge show awarding a guy who looked like a gangbanger five hundred dollars for his damaged piano, commercials for credit unions and ambulance-chasing lawyers, a gaggle of yentas carping about some celebrity she didn’t recognize, and a slew of Spanish telenovelas starring busty women in low-cut dresses and guys with bristly mustaches.
It was no wonder she stuck to classic movies.
“Did your brother call you?”
Kate massaged her temples.
“No, but neither have you for three weeks.”
If her mother wasn’t going to play nice, she wasn’t either. The woman lived ten miles away and only came to see Kate once every six months or so, keeping her well out of the running for mother of the year.
“Well, he said he was going to.”
“I haven’t heard from Ryker since he and Nikki went to Aruba. But hey, thanks for asking how I am.”
There was a long pause.
Finally, her mother said, “They’ve been back since Sunday, you know.”
“Good for them.”
“Aren’t you curious as to why he wants to speak with you?”
Kate balled her fist. Buttons, sensing her aggravation, jumped up and put his head on her lap. “I didn’t even know he wanted to call me until ten seconds ago. And it’s not that crazy, considering Ryker and I actually talk all the time. You know, just like regular families.”
“Okay, I was just checking.”
“That’s it? The last time we spoke, I had pneumonia. Don’t you even want to know how that’s going?” Kate felt her blood pressure rise. She’d grown up with a mother who doted on her brother to the exclusion of everything and everyone else, including her father, who had puttered around the house like a forgotten visitor. Ryker was going to be the big, shining star in the family, his light so bright, dear old mom was blind to the rest of the world.
And Ryker had become just that, his success casting Kate into an ever-widening shadow, at least as far as her myopic mother was concerned. Kate used to tell herself that her mother just couldn’t handle what her daughter was going through, so it was easier to bury her head in the sand. Mom avoided her like a plague blanket. But the truth was, it had always been like this. Hope for a change in their relationship was a waste of time and energy, neither of which she had in great supply.
“I assumed you’d be fine by now,” her mother said, an edge to her voice.
“I was in the hospital for five days because my lungs filled with fluid.”
“But you’re not there now.”
Kate pulled the phone away from her ear and gave a silent scream. She took a deep breath. “My doctor says the pneumonia set my timetable back to the fall to get my hip replacements. The don’t want me anywhere near anesthesia until my lungs have repaired themselves.”
“I don’t understand why he says you need new hips. You can walk.”
That got Kate’s blood boiling. “Sure, I walk like a cripple who gets lapped by geriatrics. I kinda would like to be a little more stable.”
Her mother sighed into the phone. “Why risk it with surgery? It’s not like you go out all that often.”
That was the breaking point. Instead of yelling, Kate said, “Just be thankful all this crap skipped you and went into me, Mom. Not everyone gets to live their lives with blinders on.”
Silence.
It was her mother’s ultimate defense. When met with resistance, it was better to just sit there, mute as a fish.
“Thanks for calling. I’ll be sure to alert the news when Ryker gets in touch with me.”
“There’s no reason to take that tone, Kate.”
“I’m sure you think that.”
“Don’t get all huffy with me. It’s not like you call me, either.”
Grinding her molars, Kate replied, “I was so sick, I could barely breathe, much less talk. And you knew that because Andrew called and left a message, which you never returned.”
And here came the silence again.
“Look, Mom, I gotta get my clothes out of the washer.”
“Oh good, you’re feeling up to doing the laundry. See, I knew you were fine.”
Kate disconnected the call before she could say something she would regret…or relish. Throwing the phone at a pillow, she struggled to get up, Buttons now at her heels. It was one thing to be chronically ill. It was another not to have the caring, sympathy, and attention of your own mother. She didn’t wish it on her worst enemy.
Something crashed in the kitchen. Kate’s heart fluttered, and she got dizzy and thumped back onto the daybed. Buttons barked at the kitchen, his tail tucked between his legs.
Reaching down to stroke his back, she said, “We are a pair of scaredy-cats. Take it easy, But-But, and let’s see what fell.”
Together they crept toward the kitchen. The blue vase she kept on the shelf above the counter was in pieces. It had come with the get-well flowers Andrew had given her during her recent hospital stint.
“Must have put it too close to the edge, you big goof,” she said to the beagle, who had calmed down. “See what Grandma does? Just the sound of her voice makes bad things happen.”
The last thing she wanted to do was sweep up glass, but she couldn’t leave it for Andrew. Plus, she didn’t want Buttons stepping on it. After shooing him back to the living room, she got out the broom and dustpan. The washer dinged just as she was emptying the pan into the garbage pail.
Her shoulders and wrists were aching something fierce by the time she collapsed onto the daybed, just in time for an Audrey Hepburn movie. She tried meditating, and when that didn’t work, it was time to take a pill anyway. That did the trick.
* * *
Andrew looked at his schedule for the next week, checking it against the two doctors appointments Kate had. The pain management office understood that people had to maintain jobs to pay the bills, so they offered late appointments on Thursdays. He could get Kate there easily after work. The cardiologist on Tuesday morning would be an issue.
His boss had told him time and again that he could work from home any time, knowing what he and Kate were going through. But on his last review, he’d gotten dinged for team engagement, which was a veiled way of saying he hadn’t been around the team enough. The fact that he got more done from home and never lost touch with the team – thanks to their video presence system – was beside the point.
“You coming out for drinks tonight?” James asked, his head popping over Andrew’s cubicle wall.
“What’s it for this time?” Andrew closed his planner.
“Brandi landed that whale account late yesterday. She said she’s buying, and who am I to turn down free drinks?”
James tapped his fingers on the cubicle’s edge. The man was a ball of nervous energy.
“I’d love to but I have to head home,” Andrew said.
“Come on. You missed out on Drew’s going-away shindig and Cara’s promotion. And word on the street is you’re no
t going to the team-building weekend next month.”
Pushing away from his desk, the chair rolling into the file cabinet, Andrew said, “I can’t do three days away from home, Jim. You know that.”
Not to mention he had no desire to go rock climbing while listening to some career coach spout inspirational quotes all along the way. What moron decided this was a thing?
“Yeah, yeah, but what about tonight? We’ll only be at Johnny’s East Side for a couple of hours.”
“Look, have a drink for me. I’ll go to the next one.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” James said, giving him the gunfighter salute with his long index fingers. James headed for the bathroom, or the back parking lot to smoke. Probably both.
Andrew really could go for a drink.
Maybe the ding about being with the team was because he missed stuff like this – fun stuff, but important in any sales organization. Well, if they were going to take money out of his pocket because he couldn’t get hammered every week, sometimes twice, so be it. Yes, he missed out on a lot of good times and team bonding, but he had responsibilities. If they didn’t want to cut him some slack, that was their problem. Life goes on, or so the Beatles told him.
“Ob-la-di, ob-la-da,” he muttered.
There was a big conference call in fifteen minutes. After that was a Skype meeting with their team in Portland. Then he had yet another group meeting about the new database the developers were creating for the sales team. Those meetings went on for hours and he barely knew what the hell they were talking about half the time. Somewhere in there, he had to finish his proposal for a rate hike for his second-biggest client. That was going to require some major tap-dancing.
Stomach rumbling, Andrew thought of popping out to grab a sandwich from the deli up the block.
Better not, he thought. If I leave this place today, I might not come back.
Instead, he bought a premade wrap from the cafeteria downstairs and wolfed it down while he called to check on Kate.
The phone rang and went to voice mail.
He hung up.
It always worried him when she didn’t answer. Any call could be the one where she was too incapacitated to answer…or worse. The worst part was what had taken years off his life, never knowing what he would come home to find.
