Life on the Level: On the Verge - Book Three

by Zoraida Cordova

  “I want to hear Metallica!” Jimmy says. “My daddy says Metallica is the best in the world.”

  Everyone laughs. “You got to pick last week. It’s Hannah’s turn.”

  She hides her face in Vilma’s shoulder.

  “Do you want to whisper it to me and I’ll say it?” Vilma asks.

  Hannah nods. She cups her hands around Vilma’s ear and tells her the song, like a secret.

  “I love that song,” Vilma says. This seems to make Hannah happy. “Okay, Hutch Swift. Let’s hear Love Song.”

  “It’s Love Story,” Hannah says in her little voice. When she realizes she’s spoken out loud, she covers her mouth with her hands. Jimmy makes a raspberry with his tongue, but everyone else bounces with excitement. One of the little girls with a patch over her eye pumps her little fist into the air in a “yes” motion.

  Hutch chuckles. “I don’t know all the lyrics, so I’m going to need some help, okay?”

  All of their little heads nod as Hutch adjusts the tuning and strums.

  “River?”

  “Hutch?”

  “Come on, girl.” He adds a twang to his words.

  “I don’t know the words.”

  “Everyone knows the words. Plus, this song isn’t in my key.”

  “I don’t sing,” I say, trying to maintain a pleasant smile while widening my eyes at him. That’s a lie—I do like to sing. Before I dropped out of high school I was in the school choir. It was the only club I regularly went to even if I was cutting class.

  “Come on,” he says again.

  “Yeah, River,” Vilma says. “We all hear you when you’re walking around by yourself.”

  “Come on, River Thomas,” Jimmy says.

  He shakes his head in my direction, and I realize I have no choice. I take a deep breath and walk over to Hutch. My face feels like it’s on fire, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

  Hutch starts playing the intro, lowering the key for my voice. Of course I know the lyrics. Working at bars, I know all the lyrics to every hit song and one-hit wonder to hit the airwaves. It’s my guilty pleasure. I turn my body toward Hutch. He hums along with me, strumming.

  When I get to the lyric, “‘Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter” I can’t help but catch his eyes. I wave my fingers at the kids, inviting them to sing along. Hutch’s deep voice adds a nice bass to the whole thing. I can feel my heart doing summersaults as he brings his guitar closer to me and sings, “Baby, just say yes.”

  I step forward and grab a little girl singing at the top of her lungs. She raises her hands, twirling her wrists like she can wrap the notes around her. Together, we all end off-key, but it still sounds amazing.

  I do a slight Texas dip, then clap in Hutch’s direction. One by one, the kids pick different songs. Mostly pop songs, and one request for Clementine. The whole time Vilma comes out of her shell more and more. Even Jermania sings along, with a voice that would put Christina Aguilera out of business.

  When the nurse comes back in, the kids all make disappointed noises. We kiss their foreheads and bask in their hugs. I feel my heart fill up in a way I never thought was possible. I’ve never done something like this before, and it feels good to bring happiness to others in a selfless way.

  As we make our way out of the hospital, Jermania and Vilma’s hums echo down the hospital hall. I turn around to find Hutch. The nurse has barricaded his way. She hands him a folded up piece of paper and pets his bicep. Hutch pockets the paper. I whip around, and act like I didn’t see anything, but Vilma and Jermania have already seen. They hoot and holler as he follows us out the front door.

  “My boy got himself a number,” Vilma says.

  I don’t know where I’m walking, so I just pick the direction of the parking lot.

  “River,” Vilma shouts. “Come back! We’re getting lunch.”

  I’ve never been the jealous type. Even when I knew the guys I dated were less than faithful. Even when I was less than faithful myself. That’s why I’ve always made it a point to have no-strings-attached lovers and hookups.

  I put on a happy face, and follow my fellow patients into a cafe called The Liquid Planet. Vilma and Jermania grab seats at the front and give us their order.

  Hutch stands directly behind me. I can feel the heat radiating from him. Or am I doing the radiating? Either way, it’s hot in here.

  “Hi,” I say, speaking faster than usual. “Can we get three hot cocoas, a lemonade, two tuna salad sandwiches, one ham and cheese, and a BLT? Please.”

  I step to the side and let Hutch pay.

  “River,” he says, playfully.

  “Hutch.” I say his name the way I would normally say “leprosy.”

  “I love the way you sing.”

  I flick my eyes in his direction. Don’t smile. Don’t smile. Stop it. Stop smiling this instant. We head back to our seats to wait for our food. When we reach the table, Vilma is crying.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask.

  Vilma shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Happens every week.”

  Jermania presses her lips together in concern. “Then why do you do it to yourself?”

  “Because I have to remember what it’s like to be a mother. You girls are too young. You don’t understand what it’s like yet.”

  “I never will,” Jermania says. “I had cervical cancer when I was nineteen. I can’t have kids.”

  Vilma reaches out her hand and pets Jermania’s arm. “Poor girl.”

  Jermania shrugs. “I didn’t deal with it well before. I didn’t know how badly I wanted it until it was definite that I never could. What about you, River? Do you see kids in your future?”

  I shake my head. “God no. This cycle of jerks stops with me.”

  I regret saying it when I see Vilma’s face.

  “I’m sorry, Vilma. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just not the nurturing type. I never had a normal childhood. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  The waitress brings over our food and drinks. Even though I didn’t eat much yesterday, I’m still not hungry. I force myself to take a few bites of my BLT.

  “I don’t think you should worry so much,” I tell Vilma. “You love your kids, and you’re getting help to be with them again. There are people who wouldn’t even bother. My mom would never in a million years choose me over partying. It’s not because she forgot how to be a parent; it’s because she never wanted to be one. That’s what makes you different.”

  Vilma stares at me with wide eyes. They glisten with tears. “Thank you, River.”

  “What about you?” Jermania asks Hutch. “You going to call that cute little nurse? Baby-making takes practice, but you look like you’ll be a pro.”

  “Hutch claims to be single.” Vilma cackles, suddenly in a way better mood now that the conversation’s picked up and become about Hutch and his love life.

  “I mean,” Jermania says mid-bite, “You’re too much of a jock for my taste, but you’re hot as hell. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

  Hutch’s eyes flick in my direction, and I look at the steam rising from my hot chocolate. “Would it make this conversation end if I said yes?” he asks.

  “Uhm, no,” Vilma says. “I want to know what’s wrong with you. You’re handsome. You have a good job. You sing Taylor fucking Swift songs. You’re like this dream guy that people only write about in romance novels. I’m just trying to understand why you’re single.”

  “Oh man,” Jermania says. “Are you one of those guys married to his job? Because we’re really not worth it. Give me the nurse’s number. I’ll set up a date for you two.”

  Jermania reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out the slip of paper. Hutch tries to grab it back, but Jermania holds it close to her chest.

  “Relax, Hutch,” I say. “We don’t have cellphones to call her.”

  “Just tell us the truth.”

  “First of all,” Hutch says. “You are all worth it. And I do manage to have a life outside
of HCRC. I’ve gone on six dates in the past year.”

  “Please tell me that means you’ve had sex at least six times this year,” Vilma says. “If only because otherwise all of this—” she waves her hand at Hutch’s frame— “is a total waste.”

  Hutch bites his tongue, and smiles from ear to ear. “Do you really want to know how many times I’ve had sex this year? And if I hear a word about this back home, I will switch your volunteer sessions to shoveling manure with Simmons.”

  Vilma and Jermania mime locking their mouths and throwing away the keys. I just sit back and pretend like my insides aren’t exploding. I mean, I know how many times I’ve had sex this year. But I don’t want to know Hutch’s number.

  “Once.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Vilma takes a huge bite from her sandwich.

  “Believe it or not,” Hutch says, making sure he looks at me. “It’s true.”

  It feels weird divulging these things to each other in a conversation with other people. It’s something I wouldn’t even ask Hutch because I’d be afraid he’d ask me back. Romeo and the Scarlet Letter is right.

  “One time with one person?” Jermania asks skeptically. “Multiple times with one person?”

  Hutch’s dark eyes glance at me. “One night with one person. It was a while ago. She wouldn’t even tell me her name. The next morning, she was just gone. Left me high and dry.”

  “What a bitch,” Vilma says. “You deserve way better than that.”

  “Yeah,” Jermania says. “You deserve at least a second roll in the sheets.”

  I laugh. “They’re right. She’s a dick.”

  Hutch leans back in his chair and looks into the black coffee that matches the darkness of his eyes. Then he adds, “It’s too bad I don’t know where to find her.”

  The girls are quiet. Vilma looks between Hutch and me for a second. Her forehead wrinkles. I watch the realization dawn on her slowly. Then doubt. She could never imagine Hutch breaking the rules like that. Me? Sure, why not. Not Hutch. I watch her trying to convince herself that she’s imagining things, that the girl Hutch is talking about could be anyone.

  “You should call the nurse,” I tell Hutch.

  Hutch makes a face, but takes the piece of paper back from Jermania. He folds it back into his chest pocket. We finish our food in a friendly silence and drive back to HCRC. I avoid Vilma’s eyes and Hutch’s the whole time, just sit with my arms crossed over my chest.

  Maybe I imagined the look on Vilma’s face. Maybe it’s my own guilt surfacing. As we head into the ranch, I head straight for my room. Vilma catches up with me on the steps. She grabs my arm and pulls to turn me toward her.

  She’s smirking, like we’re in on a big secret together. “I smell something funky.”

  “Maybe you stepped in horse shit on the way in,” I tell her. I smile, poker face on.

  “Don’t bullshit me, River. It all makes sense. The way he looks at you, the reason they switched your counselors. You two are bumping uglies! How big is it? I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

  I laugh in her face and place my hands on her shoulders. “You’re crazy. They switched my counselors because Hutch had too much on his plate. Besides, he’s too vanilla for my taste. I’ve already got my eye on a prize.”

  Vilma places her hand on her hips. “Yeah? Who?”

  I shrug one shoulder innocently. It’s astounding how easily a lie comes to my lips. The most believable lies come from some form of truth. “Why do you think they had to separate Randy and me?”

  People will believe what you want them to if you leave enough blanks. Life is just a big game of Mad Libs. I hate that Randy was the first person to come to mind, but I’m really reaching into blank space. From now on, Hutch and I need to be more careful. No more duets. No more staring at me like smoke slipping through his fingers. No more.

  I have to throw Vilma off our scent. I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t want Hutch to lose his job. I know what I have to do, even if it means hurting him along the way.

  Chapter 21

  I stare at the little blue pill for hours before I go to bed. Part of me wants to place it on my tongue and let the chemicals work their magic. But the part of me that spent an afternoon singing to sick kids tells me to flush it down the toilet. I place the pill back in its secret compartment, and shove the book under my mattress. I tell myself that it’s evidence for later. I’m not going to take it. I’ve been doing so well, even getting up to six hours of sleep a night.

  Two days later, I still ache everywhere. I can feel the pills under my mattress, like they’re a pea and I’m the princess of the Kingdom of Addicts. I brush my teeth and wash the sleep off my face. I race down to the nurse’s office. If I had a tail, it would wag.

  “Someone’s happy,” Nurse Jean says.

  “Someone’s neck brace is coming off.”

  She gets her supplies and has me sit down. I see Taylor pushing his mop down the hall. He winks in my direction, and it takes all of me to not give him the bird. I give him a fake smile, and he keeps walking. He’s like a vulture, the way he hangs around doors.

  “If you feel any pain,” Nurse Jean says, “we’re putting it back on, you understand?”

  “It doesn’t really hurt,” I say. “It just feels stiff. When can I ride again?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it for another week.”

  I pout, but promise her I’ll be careful. When she takes the brace off, I feel like a whole new person. I stretch slightly from side to side.

  “How do you feel?”

  I take a deep breath. “Free.”

  • • •

  Back in my room, I dab on pink lip gloss and fluff my curls out. I find a bright blue, long-sleeved shirt with a deep neckline that accentuates my small boobs. It’s too cold for shorts, but my jeans fit like a glove. I head down to the cafeteria and pile eggs and bacon on a plate. I can feel heads turn in my direction as I look for my mark. The girls wave at me, but Randy, whose eyes linger on my cleavage, sticks a foot out to block my passing.

  Rumors catch like wildfire. I know this from way back in high school. My reputation clung to me like cigarette smoke, and I did nothing to dissuade the whispers that carried my name. Most of the time, I took silent bets on the things people said about me. Who was River Thomas going to blow on prom night? Who was River Thomas going to make out with in the boy’s locker room? It didn’t matter that I didn’t date boys in high school, and I didn’t go to my prom because I dropped out of school beforehand. I just had a “look” about me. That’s the way people are, and here at rehab it’s no exception.

  All they have to do is assume I’m “that kind of girl” and see me talk with a handsome guy, and the assumptions are all theirs to make. I wonder how long it’ll take before someone “sees” us fooling around in the elevator or by the stables.

  “Where you going so fast, babycakes?” Randy asks.

  “Are you going to offer me a seat, or what?”

  Randy pats his lap. I take the seat beside him. When I look over my shoulder, Maddie, Vilma, Fran, and Julie are leaning in conspiratorially.

  “How was your volunteering?” I ask.

  “Who cares? I’m just glad it was a one-and-done thing. I think I might’ve caught something from those old geezers.”

  “Charming.”

  Randy is incredibly attractive. His hair is like polished gold, and his eyes are a darker blue than mine. He’s got a smile that would be certified in panty dropping, and he’s not shy about pulling up his shirt and showing off his tight abs. Still, he doesn’t do it for me. I’m more sexually attracted to my breakfast than I am to Randy. Still, I have to put on a show to keep the heat off Hutch and me. This rumor won’t ruin someone’s life, just my reputation, and I don’t care about that.

  “So,” he says. “You want to take me up on my offer?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Just a night you’ll never forget.” He traces my cheekbone with his f
inger.

  I stop myself from laughing. I hate when guys try so hard. Is it terrible that I almost feel sorry for him?

  When I look up, Hutch is walking across the cafeteria with his breakfast. He’s looking at us. He picks the first table in front of him and sits down, glancing in our direction every now and then. I take a deep breath.

  “Aren’t you in here for sex addiction?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I’m in here for a lot of things.”

  “You’re not still mad I punched you?”

  “Nah,” he says, smiling. For a moment, his facade falls. He’s just a cute guy trying to flirt. “I deserved it. How about it? Let me make it up to you. I’ve been told I have an excellent tongue.”

  He leans into my shoulder, which makes someone whistle across the room. I try not to pay attention to the heads that are turning in our direction. I try not to pay attention to Hutch staring at us.

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “3F?” I ask. Suddenly, I want to abort this plan. My heart hammers in my throat and my legs start to shake.

  Randy smiles. I kiss his cheek, and take my tray to the garbage. Then I head out to the courtyard and breathe deeply, trying to draw strength from the clean mountain air.

  • • •

  I know I have to explain to Hutch what my plan is. I also need him to get some things for the Halloween party. He wasn’t at the cafeteria for lunch or playing basketball with Simmons. I find him reading a book in his office.

  The halls are clear, so I walk right in and shut the door behind me. He glances in my direction and then goes back to some Dennis Lehane novel that looks well-loved and worn. I sit in a plush leather chair across from him. We don’t speak. I can practically feel his mind racing with questions.

  There’s a giant clock on the wall. I can hear it tick tick ticking the minutes away. I alternate between looking at the floor, Hutch’s jeans, the clock, the door, the turning pages, and Hutch’s lips. No, look at the clock again.

  I decide to break the silence. I grab the book from his hands and toss it to the side. “Are you going to talk or are you going to sulk until I go away?”