Black Limit
Page 3
“So, how far along are you?” Arlene asks, much to my surprise. I stare at her, dumbfounded.
“Um, twelve weeks,” I mumble. “How did you…?”
“Like I said, I’m a nurse. A very good one. Your face is flushed, your breasts look tender, and you just ran to the bathroom to throw up. It doesn’t take a detective.”
I rub my eyes and run my hands through my hair.
“We’re not really telling anyone,” I say after a moment. “I mean…that’s why Aiden didn’t tell you.”
“No.” Arlene shakes her head. “Aiden didn’t tell me because he hates me. I doubt that he would’ve even told me at all if he wasn’t lying here in a coma.”
I look away. I want to desperately know why he hates her, but this doesn’t seem like the right moment. She just found out that she will be having a grandchild. I want her to enjoy it instead of focusing on why her child dislikes her so much that he had kept it a secret from her.
“I’m very happy for you both,” she says after a moment.
“Thank you. It was a surprise.”
“From the deer in headlights look on your face, I’d say so.”
To say that Arlene has a jagged edge to her would be an understatement. If this is how she is with practically a stranger, I can only imagine how she is at home. I don’t necessarily dislike her, she’s just putting me on guard.
“It’s going to be okay, you know,” Arlene says after a moment. “You’re going to find out that you’re actually capable of being a mother. And a good one at that.”
“Wow, thank you,” I say, taken a little aback by her generosity. “I really appreciate it.”
“I wasn’t the best mother, but I tried my best. Children are always disappointed. The least you can do is to give it your all.”
Chapter 7 - Ellie
When he shows up…
I don’t exactly know what to do with all the information that Arlene states, so I just zone out a little and nod along. She is definitely the teacher type, a kind of person who loves to give out advice, regardless of whether anyone is listening to her or not.
“So, what was Aiden like when he was little?”
“Sweet boy. Very sweet, indeed. But also kind of a recluse. He had a hard time making friends.”
I nod. Who doesn’t?
“He spent all of his time with computers. He loved to read science fiction and fantasy, watch Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, all the usual lore. But he wasn’t a nerd in the traditional sense. He wasn’t a big fanboy, someone who goes to the comic book conventions, places like that. So he didn’t make a lot of friends with kids with similar interests.”
There’s something about her manner of speaking. It’s like she’s there, but she’s not. Detached. A psychologist giving an opinion about a patient to a colleague.
“When he got older, he became withdrawn, private. Even more closed off.”
Suddenly, I get the overwhelming urge to slap her. She is sitting here talking about her son, my fiancé, as if he’s not here. As if he can’t hear her.
“He seems to have gotten over his issues with people,” I defend him. “I mean, he did start Owl.”
“A tech company? Places like that only foster his kind of isolation.”
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, Arlene.”
“That my son has some challenges when it comes to people,” she says with an incensed expression on her face. “I mean, you are the one who asked about him as a child.”
I don’t know what Aiden’s particular issue is with his mother. All I know is that I dislike her. A lot. Her judgments and her dismissive attitude, it just makes me want to tell her to go to hell.
Just then, someone bursts through the door. He runs over to Aiden and plops his whole body on top of his. Arlene turns around to face the window in disgust. The man is about her age with a significant bald spot. He has a protruding beer belly that makes him resemble a grizzly as he maneuvers around.
He keeps calling Aiden’s name over and over again, much to Arlene’s annoyance.
“Ellie, this is Dean, Aiden’s father.”
I mumble a polite hello. This doesn’t seem to be the right moment for anything else. Eventually, Dean pulls himself away from Aiden and looks at me.
“You’re goin’ to be a grandfather, Dean,” Arlene says as a matter of fact. Now, I seriously want to punch her in her stupid face. Who the hell does she think she is? Just because she figured something out about me, and I was stupid enough to reveal it, does not mean she has the right to blabber it to just anyone.
“Really? Oh, wow!” Dean walks over to me and gives me a big warm hug. There is genuine affection emanating from him in addition to a strong odor of booze.
The three of us stand around looking at Aiden for a few moments. None of us would be here were it not for him and he’s lying there, listlessly. Asleep. For who knows how long?
Brie comes in with a few doctors who again gather at the far end of the room to discuss the situation before telling any of us anything. I make brief introductions and then sit back down on the sofa. There have been way too many social interactions for me for one day. Exhausted, emotionally drained, and sick from being pregnant is not the best way to meet your fiancé’s parents. Perhaps, I wouldn’t have had as much contempt toward Arlene if I had met her under other circumstances. But life throws at us what life throws at us, I guess.
Finally, the doctors turn around and tell us their opinion. It’s a good idea to keep him in the medically-induced coma for some time longer. How long? They don’t know. Their big plan is to just monitor the situation and see how it goes. I shake my head. Dean melts into a nearby chair. Arlene narrows her eyes.
“I think we would like a second opinion,” she says.
“Yes, of course. You are definitely entitled to it.”
Arlene talks out loud about flying out a doctor someone had recommended to her. Or even flying Aiden to a better hospital. Brie and I exchange looks while Dean just looks down at the floor.
“I don’t think flying Mr. Black anywhere is a good idea,” Dr. Briggs says. “His condition needs to be monitored. It’s very precarious. It could make him a lot worse.”
“How much worse can he be?” Arlene exclaims. “He’s already in a coma.”
“Many people successfully come out of medically-induced comas. We just have to monitor him and wait. I know that this is very difficult,” Dr. Briggs says. She is polite and composed, but I can tell that Arlene is trying her patience.
“No, no, no. This can’t be it. Money is no option. Do you understand that? We can have anyone in the world here.”
Dr. Briggs looks at her blankly.
“Are you seriously telling us that you are the best in the world?” Arlene asks, crossing her arms. I feel the need to butt in.
“Arlene, please, they’re doing the best they can,” I say.
“That’s not my concern. They may be doing the best they can, but my son deserves more than this. They think I don’t know how medicine works? The reason they’re conferring like that in the corner is to come up with one position and to stick with it. Well, this isn’t the law. This isn’t some hypothetical argument that we’re making. We’re talking about my son. Aiden Black.”
Dr. Briggs continues to respond, trying to convince her that they’re doing the right thing. Other doctors and nurses also pipe in. But it’s all to no avail. The more they argue, the more insistent and certain she becomes. It has to be her way or the highway.
I still have no idea what it is that happened between her and Aiden, but I’m getting that sense that she was trying to steamroll him the way she has been trying to steamroll his doctors and clearly steamrolled his father. I’m pretty sure that Aiden got fed up with it though. He’s not one to be controlled easily.
“What do you think, Ellie?” Arlene asks, turning to me. I shrug and shake my head.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I mumble. Arlene narrows her eyes. I’m not taking
her side and that’s a problem. “But a second opinion couldn’t hurt.”
“Goddamn right!” she exclaims and gives me a warm hug. “You see. The women who love this man understand.”
I feel sick to my stomach and it’s not just because I’m pregnant. The truth is that I have no idea what we should do. I want to believe Dr. Briggs and the rest of the doctors, but what if I’m wrong? What if waiting isn’t good? What if…
There are so many things that I don’t know, can’t know. I mean, if the doctors don’t know, how are we, mere laymen, expected to make these decisions?
“I think it might be best to have another doctor come out here for a second opinion. Instead of doing something rash like going through all the trouble of moving him,” I say.
Brie smiles at me, approvingly. But when I turn to Arlene, I see a completely different expression. She looks pissed. Her face is flushed and her ears look like they are about to have steam coming out of them.
“Let’s just see what they have to say,” I say to appease her. “I just want what’s best for him.”
“And you don’t think I do?” she barks at me. I bite my lower lip and look away. I’m not good at confrontation or fighting. Actually, I sort of hate it. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to let myself be bullied by her or anyone else. Getting another opinion is the right thing to do. The more doctors who can agree with Dr. Briggs and her team the better it is, especially, since money isn’t really a problem here.
Eventually, all of the doctors and nurses leave and the only people that remain are Arlene, Dean, Brie, and me. And, of course, Aiden. I want to ask them all to leave so I can be alone with Aiden again, but it doesn’t feel right. Things are already tense enough between Arlene, Dean, and me that I need to do something to smooth this over.
“Aiden’s going to be okay,” I say, taking his hand. “You’re going to be okay, right?”
I want her to put her arm around me. I want her to believe in this, too. It’s more true if more people believe in something, right?
“With doctors like these, I’m not so sure,” Arlene says.
The next hour passes at a snail’s pace. I look at the clock over and over, but it doesn’t do much. Brie and I talk about nonsense. News, nothing political, or controversial. Gossip. The weather. I hope that if we chitchat long enough, one of them will finally get the message. Okay, c’mon, it’s time for you and Dean to leave, I keep saying silently to myself.
“So, what time will you be coming back tomorrow?” Arlene asks without looking up from her magazine.
“Wait, what?” My heart sinks.
“Tomorrow? You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, I’ll be here tomorrow. But I’m staying tonight.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” she says dismissively.
I stare at her, dumfounded. “I know it’s not necessary. But it’s something that I want to do. I want to be here for Aiden.”
“Honey, you are pregnant. You need a good night’s rest. He’ll be here tomorrow. Besides, I’ll stay with him.”
Her words are sweet and saccharine just like they were when we first met, but it’s all bullshit. It’s all a facade.
“I’d really like to stay,” I say decisively. Two can play at this game. I want to be here for Aiden and she will not drive me away.
“Ellie, please. I haven’t seen my son for a long time. I need to be alone with him,” she says. I’m taken aback by the frankness. I don’t know if it’s another tactic or the truth. Either way, I don’t really have much of a choice. I feel like I have to go. At least, for tonight.
Chapter 8 - Ellie
When I go home…
"It’s going to be okay, honey,” Brie says as we walk out of the hospital into an early spring snowstorm. She doesn’t know that, but I play along. It’s exactly the kind of thing that I need to hear right now. I don’t want to take a cab or go into the subway. It’s about a half an hour walk from the hospital, but the fresh air feels nice. Even if it is bone-chilling. As we walk, I lean against Brie and let her hold me up.
“I don’t want to go inside,” I say when we turn onto my street. I hadn’t realized how much I was dreading going up there until this very moment.
“It’s going to be okay,” Brie says, squeezing my shoulders.
I shake my head. Tears roll down my face.
“Do you want to go get a hotel?”
“Yes,” I mumble. “No.”
She waits for me to make a decision.
“Okay, let’s go in,” I finally say.
“Are you sure?”
“No, but it’s now or never.”
* * *
***
* * *
Walking inside, I expect to feel him here again. His anger. My fear. I expect to feel plunging that pen into his neck. Red blood running down my arm. I’m surprised when I don’t. After the cops took down the crime scene tape and collected all of their evidence, Brie ordered a crime scene cleanup crew to come and make everything normal again. They did a good job. It’s so clean now, you can practically eat off the floor. Too clean, actually. It was never like this when Caroline and I were here. I glance over at Caroline’s door. She isn’t here anymore either. Tears run down my cheeks as Brie walks me to my room and undoes the covers.
“You need to sleep.”
My eyes close before Brie leaves the room.
* * *
He’s here again. I can smell the sweetness of his breath. I can feel his hatred for me. His jealousy of Aiden. He’s standing over me. You won’t get away this time. This time, you’re going to pay. I’m going to take what’s mine. You belong to me. Aiden is dead. I killed him. And now you will be mine forever.
* * *
The wind gets knocked out of my chest. I open my eyes gasping for breath. My head is swimming. I’m drenched in cold sweat. I slowly rise to my feet and stumble to the bathroom. I don’t make it to the toilet. I throw up in the sink and then collapse onto the floor.
* * *
I don’t know how much time has passed. My body is shaking from the cold. I’m lying on the tile floor. My hair is wet and it’s sticking to the floor. I try to get up, but my head feels heavy. Impossible to move. The closest I get is to roll over to my side. No, I can’t. I close my eyes again and drift away.
* * *
“Are you okay? Ellie?” Someone is shaking me. My eyelids are pushing down on me. I’m not strong enough to open them.
“Ellie!” She shakes me.
“Brie…what are you doing?” I mumble. Every muscle in my body is stiff. I’m a Tin Man who needs to oil his joints.
“I got sick during the night,” I say. “And then…I fell asleep?”
“Oh my God, I thought something had happened,” she gasps. Well, something did technically happen. I climb to my feet and try to gather my thoughts. That was not the most pleasant night, to say the least.
Brie helps me to the living room and makes me some pancakes. I smother mine in maple syrup and dig in wholeheartedly. The carbs and the sugar hardly matter now.
Looking around, I get the feel of the place. It looks like my old place. Cleaner, yes. But it’s not really that same place at all. There’s no Caroline in the room next to mine. Now, there’s Brie. An unexpected, but a much welcome guest. And here at the kitchen island, I feel him. This is where he attacked me. This is where I killed him. Will anything be the same again?
* * *
***
* * *
Unsure as to what to do before heading to the hospital to see Aiden again, I go back to my room and take out my laptop. My writing is my trusty old friend. If I’m stressed, afraid, or unsure, I sit at my computer and bury myself in a story. Somehow other people’s problems make my own seem so much less important. Or maybe they just take me away from them for a little bit. We all need an escape, right?
I open the latest story that I’ve been working on. Unlike my other work, this isn’t fiction. It’s the truth, only
I’m selling it as fiction because I’m not sure anyone would believe me if they knew the truth. In this story, Caroline is still alive. It’s nice to visit with her again. I can almost feel her presence.
After all is said and done, we are nothing but dust in the wind. And stories.
Caroline is gone, but she’s with me. Her life is with me. And as long as I can write down her story, she will continue to be with me.
I know for a fact that’s why people read my books. They escape into them. They take them away from their everyday problems. And for that, I’m grateful.
The doorbell rings. Brie answers and then comes and knocks on my door.
“There’s a package here for you.”
“I’ll be right there.” I don’t take off my earphones as I continue to frantically type. When words are flowing, I don’t dare interrupt. I have to see where they take me. I’m the writer of the story, but I’m on a journey of discovery as much as the reader. Most of the time, I don’t have a plan. And even if I do, it’s only in the beginning. Then I veer off course and that’s where most of the exciting parts of the story come from.
“What’s up?”
“This came for you.”
I pick up the small gray package and turn it around. No return address. No description on the top. Hmm, odd. I dig into it, but it’s a hard plastic that doesn’t give much. After a few moments, I give up and grab a pair of scissors from the drawer.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, opening the small black box inside the envelope.
“What is it?”
I take them out and lay them carefully on my palm. Brie and I both stare at the delicate drop earrings with a two-tone circle at the bottom. They are strong and rigid in design. The circle at the end is divided into two halves - marble and gold.