Possibility Days

by Mary Ramsey

  The day before London was to leave, my family held an intervention of sorts. Well, some of the family. Jayden had excused himself for the morning to get some paperwork done, and Izzy and Shauna were playing videogames in the living room. We ambushed her in the kitchen while she was making coffee.

  Johnny opened, since he had some experience in convincing people. “We think you should stay.”

  “You want me to uproot my life and move to Portland?” London asked.

  “You wouldn’t be giving up everything,” I said. “You can still consult on your makeup line. Hell, you can still model. You’d just be based out of Portland. And, as an added plus, you could exorcise a certain thorn in your ass who thinks she’s the reason you have a career.”

  “Unless my mother hops a plane, like she did to come for me at the beach house.”

  “Come to think if it,” Sara said, “how did she know how to find you?”

  “Not helping,” Johnny muttered.

  London groaned. “Same as she found out about me skipping Paris and Milan a few years back. She has tons of friends in the paparazzi world. And spies. But that’s what I mean—is it worth it to try to stay?”

  “It would be worth it to have him,” Sara insisted. “We all can see it—you make each other so happy.”

  I decided I was leaving nothing to chance; if London was wobbling for all the wrong reasons, then Jayden might let her go. He was a great guy, but sometimes over-interpreted the concept of respecting people’s decisions. If he respected London’s decision to leave, she’d just get dragged back into a life she was beginning to hate. As London talked through all the reasons why defying her mom was difficult, I reversed my chair and headed right for Jayden’s office.

  Sara frowned as I bumped her leg. “Sean, where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back.”

  Up at the main house, I opened Jayden’s door to a disturbing sight. My uncle was meditating on a yoga mat in underwear that somehow managed to cover even less than the swimsuit he’d worn at the beach house. A small stereo played fake ocean sounds. I rolled my eyes and shut off the noise.

  “Hey!”

  “You have to ask London to stay.”

  “I can’t do that Sean. She has a life in California. If it’s meant to be, she could always come back when things aren’t so busy. Leave me a while, please. I’m trying to clear my head.”

  “You have got to be kidding me. The thought of London leaving is why you’re having clear your mind in the first place.”

  “Please turn my stereo back on.”

  I was getting annoyed at the pathetic sight of my uncle trying to simply zone out reality. “I’ve met her mother-slash-agent. Hell, she’s been my agent.”

  “I know she’s a difficult woman. That’s why London has to deal with her on her own terms.”

  “If London leaves now, Linda Sharp will make sure you never see her again. London will be tied down with international jobs until her mother drops dead.”

  Jayden shook his head. “I just don’t know.”

  I knew what it felt like to lose the love of my life. “Well here’s what I know—you need to get your head out of your ass. Right now, Sara, Jen and Johnny are trying to convince her to stay, because she actually wants to stay.”

  “Sean—”

  “Ask her to stay right now or you’ll lose the only woman who could’ve have made your family whole again. Izzy loves her too. You know that, right?” At the first flicker of life in his eyes, I knew I’d won, and I backed up to the door, reaching down for his sweatpants. I tossed them to him. “But put some clothes on first.”

  Back at the guesthouse, I grabbed my vaporizer and sat near the back door, trying to chill out. Then I heard a knock. I tuned in my ears and wheeled along the side of the little building so I could listen. It was too quiet at first, and I worried he was just making some lame offer to drive her to the airport. But then—

  “London, I love you, and it’s been over a decade since …”

  I straightened in my seat, grinning so hard my face hurt.

  “… truly say those words to someone. Will you please stay? I know it’s a lot to—”

  Silence. Giggles. More silence, then sobbing.

  “Yes, I’ll stay. I love you and Izzy— I want to be part of your family.”

  I counted that as a win.

  It was only two days before Linda Sharp showed up at the gates of the vineyard, wearing her trademark red suit. She was so predictable. I rolled up, already high on medical marijuana, my sunglasses covering my eyes. I’d been waiting for this moment, checking the gate every so often. It was my turn to have London’s back. I thought I’d never have a chance to help her like she’d always helped me.

  Linda fumed. “You need to let me in, Sean.”

  I chuckled. “I really don’t. London’s not a child. If she hasn’t invited you, then you can’t just rock up here.”

  “She’s not taking my calls.”

  “Have you tried smoke signals, or maybe a carrier pigeon?” I asked gleefully.

  She ground her teeth. “I just want to talk.”

  “You never ‘just’ want to talk!”

  “Oh, let me in, you ugly, deformed cripple!”

  I smirked, still awed by how fast she showed her true colors when things didn’t go her way. And if she got really nasty, I had an insurance policy. Jayden’s CCTV system covered the gate. “Like I say to my baby: what’re the magic words?”

  “You’re such an ungrateful little bastard.”

  I lost my sense of humor. “Look, I’m going to level with you. You’re not seeing London today, or any time soon. I’m here to protect my friend, who’s been nothing but good to me.”

  “I hope you burn in hell.”

  “If I do, I’ll get Satan’s shotgun seat ready for you.” I bounced my finger toward the subtle black unit on top of the gate post, which had been recording the whole thing.

  She followed where I was pointing and went absolutely pale.

  “Yeah. Now, you give her plenty of space—that means stay away until she’s ready to talk to you—or we’ll find out what the media thinks of you calling your daughter’s terminally-ill best friend an ugly cripple.”

  I flipped her off as she left. London could do what she wished with the video—it was a guarantee her mother would never return.

  Twenty-Two

  My final strong streak lasted three more months, helped by Johnny fixing up a little rig that allowed Sunflower to pull my oxygen tank while I walked. Even with the braces and crutches, I was feeling good so long as I could do stuff by myself.

  It was a beautiful October day when I was walking with Sunflower, and she suddenly stopped and went into the sit position, whining at me.

  “Yeah, I’m feeling a little tired too, girl. Let’s get back to the house.” I started to turn that way, but found myself short of breath. I sat down beside Sunflower, and then for the first time since the incident in Korea, I suffered a seizure.

  When I regained consciousness, I was in too much pain to stand. My chest hurt so badly that even with the oxygen I struggled to take a breath. I disconnected Sunflower from the rig. “Get … help.”

  I closed my eyes and went to sleep, half-expecting to be taken to yet another dream world, but woke in a hospital bed. There was a knock at the door, and Johnny was standing there in light blue scrubs with his hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  “Hey, Sean. Yeah sorry, you’re in the ICU.” He took up the clipboard and made notes. “I’m going to recommend to your nurse that we up your antibiotics, then I’ll be back to chat. Oh, wait—she’s right outside. Gimme a sec.”

  Johnny zipped out and came back with a short lady with long dark brown hair and brown eyes. “Sean, this is Leann, your assigned nurse. Leann, this is my friend Sean.”

  “Well howdy,” she said with a smile.

  “She’s originally from Oklahoma.”

  “I’m a farm girl, just like Johnny. In fact, he remind
s me a lot of my kid brother.”

  “How old are you?” I asked. I seriously couldn’t pin it down. She had a mature person’s self-confidence, but not a single damn line on her face, not even when she grinned with delight.

  “Oh, I love that question! I’ve won myself quite a few stuffed animals at the country fair. Try to guess.”

  “Twenty … five?”

  “Thirty-five.” Leann smiled, but took the clipboard from Johnny’s hand, giving the notes a once-over. “Okay Sean, I’m going to adjust your pain medicine and antibiotics, and then I’m going to go call your uncle down while Johnny fills you in on the other details.”

  Johnny shook his head. “Leann, please, I can’t.”

  “You have to be brave.”

  Johnny put his hand over mine. “Sean, we’re concerned about brain damage. You’re going to have to follow up with neurologist when you’re discharged.”

  So, what’s new?

  “You hear me, buddy?”

  I just nodded. I figured it was all about making the best of things, now. Johnny kept a hold of my hand while Leann went off to try call my uncle. When she got back, she was muttering darkly about Jayden’s PA, and how the woman treated Dr. Clarke like his professional time was her personal property. He’d be down soon, Leann told me, and that’s all she could promise.

  I looked up at Johnny. “Do you still have my mother’s number on your phone?”

  Johnny nodded. “Want me to ask her when she could fly in?”

  “Please.”

  “Let me put this on speaker in case she wants to talk to you.” Johnny dialed the number from his contacts.

  My mother picked up on the first ring. “Johnny, everything okay?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Foster, when’s the soonest you can visit? It’s kind of important.” Johnny shook his head like he was mad at himself. “Sorry, not ‘kind of’ important. Sean’s just had a seizure.”

  There was silence, then, “Can I talk to him?”

  Johnny placed the phone on my chest.

  I struggled to find words. I just suddenly felt completely lost. I could hear her sobbing on the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry, Mommy.”

  Mother struggled to regain her composure. “You have nothing to be sorry for; you’ve been through so much. I love you, Sean. I promise to make it to Portland.”

  Under Leann and Johnny’s care, I was discharged in less than a week. That’s how great a team they made.

  Until my release, she made the time go way quicker by sneaking in a video game console from the Pediatrics ward so I could play when my daughter visited, and sometimes against Leann and Johnny.

  “Leann, you’re really good at this,” I said as we faced off in a racing game.

  “Do you know why I love working in the ICU?” she asked.

  “The one-to-one ratio?”

  “You got it, sugar. I cut my teeth in the regular wards and—by God it was hell—trying to advocate for dozens of patients at once. I had to learn real fast how to stand up for myself, trust my instincts.”

  “Leann, can I ask you for a favor?”

  “Anything for you.”

  “I don’t know how Johnny’s internship works. I mean, I don’t know if he gets randomly assigned to a mentor, or whether you can step in as the one he reports to, but I know you care about him.”

  She chuckled, getting my hint. “I will watch over little Johnny, you can count on me. I’ll make sure he grows a new set of balls to replace the ones the Lord took away.”

  I laughed. “You’re awesome.”

  At my follow-up in Neurology, Dr. Evans, a young blonde woman with a soft, gentle voice, wasn’t full of soft, gentle news for me.

  She talked me and Jen through the imaging results. “What we have is not promising,” she explained. “You have a staph infection in your brain.”

  “So, it’s treatable?” Jen asked.

  She looked uncomfortable. “Given Sean’s current state—”

  “My husband’s a fighter. We’re willing to do whatever it takes.”

  “Jen,” I said, holding her hand, “let the doctor finish.” I already knew what Dr. Evans was about to say, and I wasn’t at all surprised when she handed me the pamphlet on assisted death. Her eyes were kind.

  “For a lot of patients in your situation, it’s a viable option.”

  “No,” Jen cried. She watched as I put away the pamphlet. “Sean, you can’t be seriously considering this?”

  “This was … one of the reasons I originally wanted to come to Portland.”

  She was pale. Angry. “You have a family, you have people who love you!”

  I was afraid to die. I wanted to be able to say goodbye to the people I would hurt the most. But I was also in so much pain, and it was only going to get worse. I took a deep breath and hoped Jen would wait until I felt stronger until we talked it through properly. I looked back to Dr. Evans. “I want to consult my uncle.”

  “I’ll be forwarding the results to Dr. Clarke. I’m so sorry. The hospital chapel is open if you need to speak to someone, or just want a place to collect your thoughts.”

  When she’d left the room, Jen turned to me, her eyes red. “Please Sean, think of your daughter.”

  “I am thinking of her. I want to be able to say goodbye properly. I don’t want Shauna’s last memory of me to be of my body in a hospital bed, covered in machines and wires. I don’t want that for you, either.”

  She didn’t want to discuss it later that day, or whenever I tried to raise it over the next few weeks.

  Being out of control re my own death was turning into a nightmare. I could picture the scene in my mind—my family standing around, talking to my unconscious body, all wondering if I was already gone, but none brave enough to pull the plug.

  By the time winter came, I was bedridden. As promised, Mom arrived December twentieth for her Christmas stay. I watched through the open doorway as Jen greeted her.

  Shauna and Izzy had been playing video games in the living room. I could hear Shauna throw down her controller. “Grandma Claire!”

  “You’ve gotten so tall!”

  “Daddy isn’t feeling well today, but he’s been looking forward to seeing you,” my little angel said as she ushered my mom to the bedroom.

  “Oh, Sean.” Mom kicked off her shoes and lay in bed next to me, caressing my face. There were tears in her eyes as she spoke. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it back here sooner. You were doing so much better when I left in November.”

  “I know.” She’d been busy fighting the good fight to get Jen’s father early parole, and at least better living conditions in the meantime. We’d shared plenty of phone calls and video chats, sometimes joined by Shauna, Jen or even Sara and Johnny. But every conversation with my mother ended with a tearful goodbye as if it were our last.

  She went on, stroking my hair. “Sean, I need you to know, if you don’t think you can fight any longer, it’ll be okay. I will make sure Jen and Shauna are taken care of.”

  I was more grateful than I could say. I smiled, and hoped she could see it. And then I changed the subject before I lost it. “I want to go to Jayden’s party,” I said, my voice feeling scratchy and weak.

  “His Christmas party? That’s not for another few days. I guess it’s possible you could make enough of a recovery to sit in your chair by then.”

  “Even if I don’t feel well, I still want to go. I think something amazing is going to happen. Can you help me into my chair now, actually?”

  “Sure, stamina practice is always good. And I want to bring everyone up to speed on the status of Diego’s possible early parole.”

  Mother pushed me to the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of water while everyone gathered around the table.

  “The legal team I hired is now using all the tools at their disposal to get Diego’s sentence reduced. He underwent a psychological evaluation to build a case for temporary insanity. Jen, if they’re successful, would you be willing to speak at
the hearing?”

  “You mean as a character witness?”

  “Well, yes, you would be speaking to the nature of your father’s character, but also to the extent of his knowledge of your relationship with Richard Cross.”

  I knew Mother was asking if Diego was living with as much psychological trauma as Jen, and if the lawyers could use that fact to their advantage.

  “If it’s too much to ask,” Mom went on more gently, “I’m sure we can work around the issue.”

  Jen shook her head. “No, I’ll still do it. How’s his health?”

  Mother sighed. “I wish I had better news. Nathan Cross’ influence runs deep—there have been several attacks on your father’s life.”

  “Oh God.” Jen threaded her fingers through her hair, groaning. “What kind?”

  “Physical assault. Even food poisoning. The problem is that the attacks are so random that no one’s been caught, so there’s no way for me to connect them to the bastard. But I’m not going to stop trying.”

  Jen nodded. “I know.”

  “I promise I’m getting your father out of there. I swear on my husband’s grave.”

  I had faith in my mom. I could always count on her to keep her promise. And Jen? Well, Jen was tough. She’d be okay. At least I hoped so. It would be nice if I could stick around long enough so she wouldn’t have to make the trip alone.

  I mean, who in their right mind wants to go back to North Dakota?

  The days leading to the Christmas party were more hectic than ever before. Jayden was bringing in all manner of decorations from freestanding fountains to sparkling fake trees and massive ice sculptures. In the heart of the vineyard, he erected an outdoor movie theatre projecting old Christmas movies that he would allow Izzy to select. He also set up a PA system.

  Leann arrived early in a blue cocktail dress and helped me into a white shirt paired with a purple suit jacket and pants. I was able to get myself into my wheelchair with the help of Sunflower and felt so much better for that one tiny victory. I was adamant that I did not want to be attached to an IV at the party, so Leann said she’d stick close with my meds in case I needed them.