the Dance

by Alison G. Bailey

  I lowered into the chair across from her and fidgeted with the hem of my chef’s jacket.

  Nancy swiveled her chair in my direction, her dark frames pushed halfway down her nose.

  With her brows perched high on her forehead, she peered over her glasses at me. “Bryson, do you think I’m harder on you than the others around here?”

  Wetting my dry lips, I wondered if this was a trick question. “Um . . . I’m not sure I’d say harder . . . but . . .”

  “I am. I am harder on you. And do you know why?”

  I figured silence accompanied by a shoulder shrug was the best response.

  Nancy pulled off her glasses and placed them in front of her. “It’s because I see an enormous amount of potential. You’ve been with me for quite a while now and look how far you’ve come. No longer are you this timid little girl who had never held a job before. You’re an incredibly talented culinary artist.”

  I could sense a huge “but” in my near future.

  “It’s because of those talents along with your drive and perfectionism that I’ve put you in charge of some of my most coveted events. It’s also why I’m about to rip you a new one.”

  The lump in my throat fell to my stomach like a boulder. Again my mental flip book was coming up empty as to what this could be about.

  “The Virginia Hamilton funeral was at one o’clock today.”

  The Hamilton family was a big name in town and one of Nancy’s biggest clients. Miss Virginia was the matriarch of the family who’d lived a long happy life. After her huge funeral service at Saint John’s the family was having an equally huge reception at the church hall.

  “Yes and the van was packed and went out by 11 a.m.”

  “Oh the van got there on time. I got a call from Mr. Hamilton. He said that although his ninety-five-year-old mother did enjoy football, he didn’t find the Super Bowl party set up an appropriate theme for her funeral!” She yelled the last few words.

  Puckering my lips, I pushed them out and I blinked in confusion. Nancy stared, waiting for my fog to clear.

  Holy shit! I sent the wrong van to the wrong address.

  My mouth dropped open and my eyes doubled in size. “Nooo!”

  A sarcastic Grinch-like smile crept across her face. “Yes.”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Oh my god, Nancy! I’m so, so, so sorry. That means the Howy’s Super Bowl party . . .”

  “Will be enjoying a variety of tea sandwiches and petit fours.”

  “Oooh,” I groaned, dropping my chin to my chest.

  “Bryson, you know how fond I am of you.”

  Sensing the “but” was about to make an appearance, I looked up and braced myself.

  “But here comes the ripping. Where the fuck was your head?! These are two of my biggest clients! Their referrals alone are gold.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears played at the back of my eyes. Nancy wasn’t a fan of weakness so I did my best to stay dry.

  “Because of your screw-up I’m going to have to issue a refund. And on top of that the money spent on product is a complete loss. And don’t even get me started on how unprofessional we appeared.”

  I bit down on my quivering lip, desperately trying to keep my emotions in check.

  “Nancy, I know there’s no excuse but things have been stressful in my life lately. Juggling work and personal stuff has been difficult. I’ll pay you back. I promise.” A few tears had seeped out and trickled down my face.

  “I don’t pay you enough for you to pay me back,” she said.

  Swiping my fingers under my eyes, I wiped the tears away. “Are you going to fire me?”

  Nancy leaned back in her chair, staring at the quivering mess in front of her. “How’s that friend of yours doing?”

  “He’s gotten worse, weaker and . . . um . . . weaker.”

  As Nancy listened her expression softened with the look of understanding in her eyes.

  “Do you have any help?”

  “Hart offers all the time. It’s just he and Will don’t really like each other so it’s awkward. And my parents and my friend Sophie said they would help but . . .”

  “You can’t do this alone, Bryson.”

  “The thing is . . . it was my choice. I don’t want to disrupt everyone else’s life. It’s not fair.”

  “So instead you’re going to run yourself ragged taking care of him and working full-time. And what about Hart? How does he fit into all of this?”

  “Unfortunately, not very much at the moment.”

  My chest hurt thinking of how all of this was affecting mine and Hart’s relationship. He was a good and patient man. But everyone had their limits. Since Christmas, even when we did manage to spend time together I was either preoccupied with thoughts of Will or exhausted, falling asleep on him. I certainly wasn’t contributing to our relationship.

  Leaning forward, Nancy rested her forearms on the desk and said, “I’m not going to fire you but I am ordering you to take a leave of absence.”

  I felt as if I’d been gut punched. Leave of absence sounded like a fancy and less brutal way of saying I was fired. This job meant the world to me. It was a foot in the door to my dream career. With my work history and a recommendation from Nancy I could pick whatever culinary school I wanted to attend after Will . . .

  “Nancy, please. I know I fucked up royally. I think if I get a couple of good night’s sleep under my belt I’ll be as good as new.”

  “Bryson, this isn’t up for discussion. You’re no good to me here unless you’re a hundred percent. Right now you can’t be that. I promise you, your job will be here when things settle down.”

  I should have felt relief and gratitude but I didn’t. My stomach twisted in knots just like it used to when Will told me I couldn’t do this or that. I knew it was a knee-jerk reaction and had more to do with me than with what Nancy was saying. Still it made me feel as if I’d failed.

  I left Good Eats that afternoon with Nancy’s reassurance that I could come back and pick up right where I’d left off. All I needed to do was say the word. I knew deep down she would be true to her promise but there was still a twinge of doubt. I’d worked hard to grow more confident and let my talents shine. With the help of this job and Hart I felt secure and on a solid foundation. But with one misstep I let the old me creep back in and I hated seeing her again.

  The second I walked in the house a strange feeling washed over me. There was an eerie stillness that hung in the air. Sitting my purse down on the small foyer table, I slipped out of my brown leather jacket and placed it on the coat hook. On my way home I had texted Will so he wouldn’t be surprised to see me so early in the day but I didn’t hear back. I took a deep breath as I walked into his room. Since his last stint in the hospital my greatest fear was that I’d come home and find that he’d passed away alone. When my gaze hit the empty bed, I blew out a deep breath.

  Noticing the bathroom door was slightly ajar, I walked over and gave it a soft tap. “Will, are you in there?”

  No response.

  Being more forceful with my knock, the door opened wider. If it hadn’t been for the odd sensation in the pit of my stomach I would have searched the rest of the downstairs first before invading Will’s privacy and possibility of embarrassment by walking in on him in the bathroom.

  Closing my eyes, I pushed the door the rest of the way. “Will, are you okay?”

  Still no response. I tentatively squinted my eyes open. They quickly widened at the sight of Will lying on the tile floor with blood spattered around his lifeless body. My heart thudded out of my chest as panic took over. Everything slowed except my heart rate and my breathing. I felt as if my feet were buried in quicksand as I ran over and fell to my knees. Even though I didn’t have any cuts or open areas on my hand, I was extremely careful when placing my finger on the side of his neck. A weak pulse existed. Shoving my hand in my front pocket I pulled out my cellphone and called 911.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”
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br />   “I found my hus . . . my husband unconscious on the floor of the bathroom. There’s blood.”

  “Ma’am, what’s the address?”

  “555 Cypress Point.”

  “Okay, an ambulance is on its way. You said there was blood?”

  “Yes. Coming out of his mouth like he’d coughed it up. It looks like he may have been going to the bathroom when this happened. His pajamas are around his knees and there’s blood in the toilet.”

  “Is he still breathing?”

  “Yes, barely.”

  “The ambulance is turning onto your street right now.”

  “I also need to let you know . . . my husband has AIDS.”

  As I waited for the EMTs to arrive, I knelt beside Will and stroked his hair. I wanted so badly to clean him up so no one would see him this way. Just asking me for help was a blow to his dignity. I couldn’t imagine what it would do to him if he knew strangers were about to see him at his lowest moment. I vowed to myself right then I would spare him the details of today.

  The loud banging propelled me up and to the front door. Swinging open the door, I found three burly men on my porch.

  “Ma’am you called 911?” The black-haired man said.

  Stepping to the side, I let them in and then guided them to Will. “Yes, he’s back here.”

  I wrapped my arms around my body and stood off to the side as the EMTs did their job. The two older looking dark haired men tended to Will. After checking his vitals, they lifted him onto the stretcher, his body limp like a ragdoll. The younger redheaded man cleaned up Will’s blood, going through the meticulous protocol used when dealing with an AIDS patient. The air turned into disinfectant, stinging my nose with each breath.

  “Ma’am!”

  My gaze snapped to the dark-haired man with bright green eyes as he pulled off his blue latex gloves, tossing them in the special bag marked hazardous material. I assumed by his sharp tone he’d been trying to get my attention for several seconds.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, barely able to get the two words out.

  “You can follow us to the hospital.” He then turned, joining his partners as they pushed Will out of the room.

  Snatching my purse and jacket off the table, I followed closely behind. Even though I knew exactly where they were headed, I didn’t want to lose sight of them . . . of Will. He needed to know he wasn’t alone.

  It felt like it took an eternity to get to the hospital even with the roaring sirens and the traffic parting like the Red Sea. Without wasting any time, the EMTs got Will out of the ambulance and inside the ER. The hospital staff immediately went into action, rolling Will through the large double doors to the back and out of my sight. I stood staring at where Will disappeared to until bumped by the rush of staff members in route to another patient.

  A myriad of horrible thoughts ran through my mind. Was today the day? Even though Will said his parents disowned him, shouldn’t I call them? I couldn’t imagine a parent not wanting to know when their child was dying no matter what had taken place in the past. My thoughts were too jumbled. My heart was pounding at the speed of hummingbird wings, causing my head to swim and feel lightheaded. I sat down in the first empty seat I saw. Staring blankly straight ahead a wave of loneliness washed over me. I felt like I should be doing something or calling someone. But there wasn’t anything to do or anyone to call. I was the only one in Will’s life and would be the only one during his death.

  A tremor hummed through my body, quickly turning into shakes and then sobs. Burying my face into my hands, I tried to be as quiet as possible. I don’t know how long I stayed like this before I thought my name had been called. Using the back of my hand to wipe my tears, I looked toward the nurse’s station. A pretty blonde gave me a warm smile as she walked from behind the desk toward me.

  “Are you Bryson Forsyth?”

  “Yes. They just brought my husband in.” My throat was sore and raw from crying.

  “Dr. Rudolph wanted me to take you to one of the consult rooms.”

  I’d only been in those rooms one other time and that was when the doctor prepared me for the months ahead. The knot in my stomach told me this wasn’t a good sign. The nurse led me back to the same consult room I’d been in before. When she opened the door I was surprised to see the doctor already waiting for me.

  “Hello, young lady,” the doctor said, as he stood like a gentleman.

  The nurse quietly closed the door, leaving me alone with a concerned looking Dr. Rudolph.

  “Bryson, have a seat.”

  “Is Will okay?” I blurted out even before I was in the chair.

  Dr. Rudolph took the seat across from me. “You know I’m not a beat-around-the-bush kind of guy. I don’t have time for that nonsense.” He paused. “The Kaposi tumor in Will’s right lung has gotten much larger. That’s why he’s coughing and out of breath a lot of the time. It also explains the blood coming from his mouth. Obviously, the pneumonia didn’t help matters. The tumor in his abdomen and liver . . .”

  “Wait, I thought he only had them in his lungs.”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  My eyes glazed over as I stared at him.

  “The tumor in his abdomen has tripled in size since his diagnosis. The other blood you saw was due to this tumor. And there are multiple small tumors in his liver. We’ve stopped the bleeding but Will lost a lot of blood. I’m going to admit him for at least a couple of days.” He paused, looking down at his wringing hands. When he looked up, his grim expression slapped me in the face. “Bryson, I’m going to recommend Will be admitted into The Hospice House after I discharge him.”

  “Why?”

  It was a stupid ridiculous question and I couldn’t explain what made me ask it.

  “You know why, young lady.”

  I bit down on my trembling lip as I held back a sob. “He’s only twenty-eight. Twenty- eight-year-olds aren’t supposed to die.”

  “AIDS is merciless. It rolls through a person’s life like an armored tank, mowing down everything in its path. And even though we’ve made strides in treatment and life expectancy, we haven’t found a cure and we haven’t eradicated the stigma. There are still a lot of people out there who believe if you get it, you deserved it. I’ve been in this field for twenty years and have seen thousands of patients from all walks of life. Some were nicer than others. But none of them deserved it.”

  My vision was blurred but I thought I saw Dr. Rudolph’s warm eyes fill with tears.

  Leaning forward, he took my hand in his. “Will was one of the lucky ones because he had you. You need to know that what you did, opening your home and your heart, gave him extra time.”

  “Thank you.” I choked out.

  He patted my hand and stood. “I’ll get everything set up with hospice and get the information to you.”

  Before opening the door, Dr. Rudolph turned to me and said, “I hope one day my son is lucky enough to find a lovely young lady like you, Bryson.”

  Will was heavily sedated and would be for the rest of the night so Dr. Rudolph ordered me to go home and get some rest. Explaining I wouldn’t be able to be there for Will if I ended up making myself sick. I did as he ordered.

  When I got home I stripped out of my clothes and took a shower. The hot water loosened the tense muscles of my neck and shoulders. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a big towel around my body, dried my hair, gathering it up into a top knot. I took a pair of panties from my dresser and slid them on under the towel. I was walking around like a zombie, not quite aware of my actions, which explained what I did next.

  I went into my closet and rummaged through the box in the very back against the wall. I found Will’s high school football jersey. Dropping the towel, I pulled the jersey over my head and down my body. I hadn’t thought of the jersey in years and had forgotten it was still here until tonight. I walked back into the bedroom, pulled back the comforter, and crawled into bed. As I was plugging in my phone, I glanced down. There were miss
ed texts from Hart, Sophie, and my mom.

  Hart: Bryson, I haven’t heard from you today. Is everything okay? I love you.

  Mom: Bryson, sweetheart, I haven’t seen or heard from you for several days. Is everything okay? I love you.

  Sophie: Bryson, I’ll be back in town this weekend. We’re doing a girls spa day. Don’t fight me on it. I’m worried about you. I love you.

  Bryson! Bryson! Bryson!

  Ignoring all of them, I set the phone on the nightstand, grabbed the edge of the comforter, and pulled it over my head. I just wanted to disappear for a while and go back to a time when the biggest problem in my life was which pair of jeans I was going to wear to the football game.

  Worry and guilt had me tossing and turning all night. I worried that Will would pass away before I got to his side. I felt guilty that I didn’t return any of the texts or calls from yesterday, especially Hart’s. By morning my brain was exhausted and needed a rest, some type of distraction for a little while. I pulled on a pair of black leggings along with socks and my black Nikes. The sun was just coming up as I headed downstairs to the kitchen in hopes of finding a moment of peace.

  After flipping on the Keurig, I lined up all the ingredients for a frittata and got to work. I was just about to slice into my first pepper when the doorbell rang. Glancing at the clock on the stove, I couldn’t imagine who’d be coming by this early in the morning. I washed my hands and headed toward the door. Not thinking to look who it was first, I opened the door, surprised to find Hart. My mouth watered at how handsome and powerful he looked in his black suit, dark gray shirt with matching tie, and shiny black dress shoes. He must have a meeting with corporate later.

  As I stared into his beautiful eyes, I wondered how he managed to get up the steps. Then I glanced toward the driveway and saw Colin sitting in the passenger’s side of Hart’s car.

  “Hey.” Shock evident in my voice.

  “We need to talk.”

  Stepping aside to let him in, I said, “Does Colin want to come in? It’s cold out there. You want some coffee? I just made some.”

  I closed the door as Hart rolled farther into the entryway.