by M. Leighton
He shrugs again. “Could’ve been worse.”
“Yeah, like if you’d been killed. But my God, look at you. How many injuries did you have?”
“Torn rotator cuff, dislocated shoulder, multiple breaks in my arm, three cracked ribs and a variety of cuts, scrapes and bruises.”
I cringe at the ache around my heart. It hurts me to think about Rusty being hurt. And, as I look at him, lying in the bed all bandaged and tied up, it hurts me even more to know there’s nothing I can do to help him.
“How- how long until you’re able to…how long will you be in here?”
I see his frown before he looks out the window behind my head, and I realize it wasn’t the right question to ask. Something about it bothered him. But honestly, I don’t know what to say. He’s acting like he could care less that I’m here and it’s making me want to go all the more.
“Probably quite a while. Too long for you to be hanging around here,” he says, not even bothering to look at me as he speaks.
His words are like so many daggers to my heart. My worst fear has been confirmed. Rusty really doesn’t want me around. I guess I was good enough for some fun, but not good enough to keep.
With my heart shriveling inside my chest, it’s all I can do to fight back tears. I turn to look out the window as well, staring into the increasing darkness as I collect myself. And as I think about Rusty and his brutal dismissal, I do what I can to keep it together.
I get mad.
“Well, that’s probably a good thing. I hate hospitals,” I say, turning back to look at him, forcing a smile onto my face.
“Don’t feel like you have to come back then. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
More daggers. I want to scream at him, to tell him I went through hell just to get here, just to get to him tonight. But I don’t. I don’t want his pity. Or a pat on the back. I don’t want him to be kind to me because I’ve “earned” it.
So, instead, I give what I’m getting. Tit for tat. Casual for casual. Unaffected for unaffected.
I nod as I lean forward, getting ready to stand. “Okay. Maybe I’ll stop by again before I leave, if I have time.”
“Before you leave? Running already?”
Something in his tone is snide. “I’m not running,” I reply defensively. “I just graduated college. I’ve got to go get a job eventually.”
“That should be easy. I’m sure you’ve got a few things lined up already. An escape plan.” His tone is so bitter and my heart drops through the concrete floor. Now I definitely can’t tell him I’ve got interviews. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s right. It’s my turn to narrow my eyes on Rusty. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Problem? What makes you think I have a problem?”
“You make it sound like I’m running away from something, when all I’m doing is starting my life.”
“Right. And that’s exactly what you should be doing. The timing is perfect. This is for the best. You need to get on with your plans away from here.”
I sit, looking at his handsome face, while my heart is spewing blood around the wound of his sharp words. He continues, driving the knife in a little deeper. “You need to find a place you can make new friends. Find a job that you love. Find some happiness.”
His words say he wants me to go and find happiness, but something about his attitude belies his well-wishing. In a way, I feel like he’s blaming me for wanting more.
“Why is it that when you say it, it sounds like a bad thing?”
“I have no idea. Must be your imagination.”
“It’s not my imagination, Rusty,” I say, standing to my feet. “Do you blame me for wanting to get a job using the education I spent the last four years getting?”
“Not at all. I knew that’s what you’d do.”
“Again, you make it sound like a bad thing.”
“I’m not making it sound like anything. I’m just saying what we both already knew, Jenna. You’re getting ready to go. It was just a matter of time.”
“Oh, so now I’m a terrible person for not wanting to hang around Greenfield for the rest of my life?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what you meant.”
“Don’t tell me what I meant,” he bites. “You’re not the kind to settle, Jenna. That’s all I’m saying. You’re the kind who has big plans for a better life. And that doesn’t include this town or the people in it. We both knew that. And it was fun while it lasted. No reason to drag it out.”
That hurts. I told him I love him less than twenty-four hours ago. Although it does seems like an eternity now, Rusty acts like it never happened, like I never had any feelings for him. He makes it sound as though we were a convenient way to pass my time in Greenfield, nothing more. Like we were destined for failure.
“Wow,” I say, trying to keep the hurt from my voice. I dig deep for a little bit of pride to help me get out of this without making things worse than they already are. “You’ve got me all figured out then, don’t you, Rusty?”
“It is what it is, Jenna.”
“I guess I won’t be bothering you anymore then.” Head held high, I stride across the room toward the door. I make each step as long as I can, giving Rusty every chance to stop me. To tell me I’m wrong. To ask me to stay.
But he doesn’t. When he speaks, it’s just to tell me goodbye.
“I wish you well, Jenna,” Rusty says softly as I pull the curtain back. I don’t turn around when I answer.
“Thanks, Rusty. You, too.”
When I let the curtain fall behind me, I do run this time. I run until I’m in an empty floor in an empty elevator, holding a handful of tears.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN- Rusty
There’s absolutely no doubt I have qualms about the last words Jenna and I said to each other. Unfortunately, she did as I asked and she stayed away. Not only has it been lonely and boring, but I’ve got too much time on my hands to think about her.
I teeter between regret and bitterness. On the one hand, I feel like I pushed her away. Maybe she would’ve proved me right and gone anyway. But maybe, just maybe, she’d have proved me wrong and she’d have hung around. If I hadn’t practically pushed her out the door, that is.
But after dwelling on that for a little while, bitterness rushes in. Even if Jenna had stayed longer, it wouldn’t have been permanent. And I’m nobody’s charity case. I don’t want her hanging around here because she feels sorry for me. Oh, hell no!
Needless to say, I’m pretty much a bear by the time Trick and Cami get home from their honeymoon and come to see me.
“Got a regular room now, huh, haus? I heard you spent some time in the ICU,” Trick says as he strides in, Cami’s hand tucked firmly in his. They’re both tan and glowing. And not just the skin kind of glowing. It’s the kind that radiates from somewhere deeper, the kind that comes from being happy all the way down to your soul.
“Good God, it’s about time!” I say. “I’m surprised there’s anything left of her. How long has it been?”
Trick laughs. Cami blushes. “Just two weeks, you dick. What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Other than the obvious?” I ask.
“Yes, smart ass. Other than the obvious.”
“I’m in here. Isn’t that enough?”
“I figured you’d be milking this and getting three sponge baths a day from Jenna,” he teases.
“Not hardly.”
Trick gives me an exasperated sigh. “All right, what’d you say to her? This has to be your fault. Otherwise, Jenna would probably be here right now, soaping up her sponge.”
“You mean you haven’t talked to her since you got back?”
“I haven’t.”
We both look at Cami. Her eyes get wide and her expression turns to that of a cornered animal. “What? We literally just drove in from the airport. I haven’t seen anybody yet.”
“Haven’t seen, but have you talked to anybody?” Trick asks.<
br />
Cami’s mouth opens a couple of times like she wants to say something, but finally she closes it and sighs. “Yes.”
“Jenna?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And, she asked if we’d been by yet. I told her we hadn’t.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.” Cami looks from me to Trick and back again. She rocks back on her heels and drops Trick’s hand to smack her own together. “So, where’s the vending machine? I need to get a bottle of water or something. I’m thirsty.”
Likely story, I think. But I don’t say that. “I walked by some yesterday when they let me out of bed to do PT. Down the hall and to the left.”
“They already let you out of bed?” Trick asks after Cami leaves.
“Hell yeah, they did! I almost kissed the poor guy that was my nurse yesterday when he told me. Before that, my arm was in traction. I couldn’t even take a piss without it being a big production.”
“How’d you do when you finally got to get up?”
“They wanted me to take it slow. Evidently I strained some ligaments in my hip pretty bad. But I was bound and determined that, come hell or high water, I was getting out of this damn bed. I wanted ‘em to know I was ready to be discharged.”
I pause before I finish telling him what happened. It’s during that time that Trick, my best friend who knows me better than anybody, figures it out.
“Busted your ass, didn’t you?”
I can’t help but grin. “Pretty much. I was a lot weaker than I thought I’d be. When the therapist got me up, I tried to walk ahead. Thought I’d show him how self-sufficient I am. Well, I showed him all right.”
Trick throws back his head and laughs. I shake my head, letting him get it out of his system. “Did it get better after they scooped up your pathetic ass?”
“Yeah, a little. I’m still kinda weak, but I’m doing as much as I can from the bed. I’ll be out of here as soon as is humanly possible.”
Trick nods his head, still smiling. When the silence stretches on, he steps closer to the bed. “So, what happened with Jenna? You did something stupid, didn’t you?”
“Man, why do you always take her side?”
“Because I know you. You’re a guy. We do stupid shit.”
“Well, it wasn’t me this time. She was getting ready to leave soon anyway. I spared her the trouble of having to come back up here and babysit.”
“You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”
“No, because I was right. She’s not staying around here, Trick. That was never her plan. And it still isn’t. She’s getting a job somewhere else. Period. The end.”
“Just because she doesn’t want to live in this town forever doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be with you. Hell, you even talk about getting away from here and opening up a classic restoration shop near a big city. How is that any different?”
“Because I’d never leave someone I loved. Not for a job, not for anything.”
“Have you ever asked her to stay? For you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I know she doesn’t want to. Why would I ask her to stay when I know she doesn’t want to?”
“Then how the hell can you be mad at her for leaving?”
I’m getting irritated. “Look, I can’t explain it to you. You obviously don’t get it. She’s not the kind to stick around. That’s it. It was a fun thing while it lasted. Now it’s over. Leave it the hell alone, will ya?”
Trick just shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything more about it. Even though, in a way, I wish he would.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN- Jenna
I wander aimlessly through the house. I stroll through the den, with its comfy brown sofa and dark cream walls, then into the dining room. I let my fingers trail over the chair backs, making note of the worn edges. It’s the suit my grandparents gave to my parents as a housewarming gift when they signed over the orchard then left for retirement in Florida. It was brand new once upon a time. Now it looks old and worn. And loved. Every smooth spot, every faded spot is the result of being handled thousands of times by Mom and Dad, and by Jake and me.
Although my father sent us off to school shortly after my mother’s death, this house still holds a million precious memories. They’re just not enough to make me want to stay here. Few things are.
I move on into the kitchen, noticing, as I always do, the faint smell of peaches. It must be permanently embedded in the wood of the floors and the plaster of the walls. The kitchen always smells sweet, just like the orchard outside.
“How much longer you gonna be able to put these people off, Jenna?”
Startled, I whirl around toward the back door. I find Cristos Theopolis, my father, standing there watching me. His eyes are the same warm honey color as my brother’s, only right now, they hold concern. That’s the only difference because Jake’s never do. Somehow, life made his heart hard and mostly inaccessible.
I sigh. “A little while longer. It’s just an interview, Daddy.”
“Just an interview. Just the rest of your life, you mean.”
“Who’s to say I’d even like working there? A degree in business with a focus in marketing is hardly a narrow field. I could work anywhere, in any number of settings.”
“It’s a great company, Jenna. You’re the one who tried to sell me on them just a couple of months ago. Why the sudden hesitation?”
“I…I…I don’t know,” I say with a shrug, making my way to the kitchen window to look out.
“What’s gotten into you, Jen? Lately, you’re so distracted. You seem restless and...well, unhappy.”
I sigh. “I guess I was just hoping Rusty would be out of the hospital before I left.”
“Rusty? I thought you two broke up.”
“We did. If we were ever really together, that is.”
“What does that mean?”
I sigh again. “Oh nothing. I guess I’m just…waiting.”
“On what? What is it you think will happen if he gets out before you go?”
“I don’t know, I—”
“Do you think he might propose? I mean, you’re broken up. Wouldn’t waiting around be silly? Maybe you ought to move on.”
His words hit a tender spot. “God, Daddy, I’m not stupid. I know he’s not gonna get out and come to beg me back. But I’d like to make sure his life gets back to normal, you know?”
“And if it doesn’t? What then? What is it you think you’ll be able to do for him?”
“I can’t do anything for him. I know that. But if things don’t work out for him around here…”
“Jenna, you’ve got to stop this. You can’t put your life on hold for a boy.”
“He’s not a boy, Daddy. And he’s not just ‘a boy’ anyway. I love him. If there’s even a small chance that we could be together, I’ll wait for it.”
Even to my own ears, I sound deluded and pathetic. And that breaks my heart into even smaller pieces. I seem to be the only one who can’t let go, who can’t move on.
“You’d want him to come to you just because he’s got nothing else left? You’d want him to choose you because there’s no better option?”
That’s like a scalpel to my stomach. “Of course not.”
“Then how long do you wait, honey? How long is too long? Have you ever thought of that? What is the cut-off for him choosing you first? Because you deserve to be first.”
For the millionth time, I feel the burn of tears at the back of my eyes. “I don’t know. But I can’t leave yet. I can’t do it, Daddy.” I feel like I’m hanging on by the world’s thinnest thread of hope. But it’s not enough to hold me together. I crumble. “I just can’t do it. I can’t leave him like that.”
I bury my face in my hands. Within a few seconds, I feel strong, familiar arms come around me. One hand strokes my hair as my father soothes me. “Shhh, baby girl. It’ll all work out. I promise. Just let it happen like it’s supposed to.
Don’t fight it.”
The problem with that advice is that I’m afraid I already know how it’s supposed to work out. I’m just not sure I can live with it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN- Rusty
I guess that’s what happens when you’re a total asshole to pretty much everyone—they stop coming to see you. I was blaming my grouchy mood on being confined in a twelve by twelve room with one window, a door and a lot of machinery, but now I’m beginning to see what the problem really is. Every person that walks through the door who’s not Jenna pisses me off. Instantly.
Trick was coming to see me every day at first and staying for a couple hours at a time, but now he stops by once and never really settles in. I can tell he’s anxious to leave five minutes after he arrives. It doesn’t help that, two weeks ago, after his first visit back from his honeymoon, I told both him and Cami that I didn’t want to talk about Jenna. So we don’t. Ever. They never mention her. And, of course, I never ask. I guess she’s gone and gotten her a great job somewhere. And I guess I’ll never know unless I swallow some damn pride and ask.
But, then again, do I really want to know? Do I really want to know how happy she is, living somewhere else, without me? No, not really. That feels an awful lot like twisting the knife .
With Trick’s visit for the day already over and done with, the only thing I have to look forward to is PT. They tell me that I’m doing so well with my deep breathing, my range of motion exercises, and my ambulation (a fancy word for walking) that I’ll soon be discharged until my arm cast comes off. Then I’ll start PT all over again.
That’s all fine and good. I just want out of this place. A.S.A.P. I need to get on with my life, too. Whatever kind of life that may be.
CHAPTER NINETEEN- Jenna
“So, how is he? Is he getting stronger? Did he get a discharge date yet?” I pound Cami with questions the instant she answers the phone. I know Trick was supposed to go for his morning visit and should be back by now.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Give me ten seconds to answer each one. Sheesh,” she moans. I give her absolute silence as I wait. “Trick’s still calling him a ‘grouchy bastard’ if that tells you anything about how he is. Still not happy about being in the hospital. Yes, he is getting stronger. He’s aced all his PT stuff and is up walking the halls at all hours of the day and night, evidently. And yes, he got a date. Well sort of.”
