The Balance Project

by Susie Orman Schnall

  She starts typing into the computer.

  “Are you family?” she asks, eyeing me over the purple-rimmed reading glasses that sit at the end of her large nose.

  “No. Is that going to be a problem?” I ask. Too bad I don’t have an engagement ring to flash at her. “My name is Lucy Cooper. The ambulance guy was supposed to put me on a visitor list.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that to start with?” she asks, giving me a sharp look before she returns to her furious typing. Eventually she says, “Okay, Nicholas Heston is in room twelve. Go through those doors, and it’ll be on your right.”

  I exhale.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  I rush through the main doors and find room twelve. Nick is lying on the bed asleep. Unconscious? White sheets cover him from his waist down, and there’s a carefully folded white blanket on top of the sheets. His chest is bare and there are sensors attached everywhere. There’s an IV tube running from the back of his hand to a half-full bag of clear solution hanging from a pole next to his bed.

  I approach the bed, and I burst out crying out of relief and fear and sadness and love. I walk out of his room and scan the hall looking for someone to give me information on Nick’s condition. There are doctors and nurses rushing around. One of the nurses catches my eye and walks toward the room.

  “Is he still sleeping?” she asks in a kind voice.

  “Yeah,” I say. “So he’s not unconscious?” I ask.

  “Are you his wife?” the nurse asks.

  “No.” Hospitals are a shitty place to go when you haven’t accepted your boyfriend’s marriage proposal.

  “Well, I’m not supposed to give out any patient information but you look so worried so I’ll tell you that he’s just sleeping and he’s going to be fine. He was awake when we were running tests. He’s been asleep for ten minutes or so.” She smiles and pats my hand. I love her.

  “Thank you so much,” I say as I go back into Nick’s room. I sit on the chair for loved ones, hoping that I still am, and wait. I watch Nick sleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, and the feelings of relief and fear and sadness and love come over me again. Too many emotions to process at once. I wonder what will happen when he wakes up. Will he be happy to see me or will he ask me to leave?

  I don’t have to wait very long for the answer because a few minutes later, Nick opens his eyes. He starts to sit up, confused about where he is, and looks around. His eyes land on me.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling. I stand up and walk over to the side of his bed. “How are you feeling?” I try but am not able to stop the tears from filling my eyes.

  “How did you know I was here?” he asks.

  “The ambulance guy called the last number dialed on your phone and it was Ty. So Ty called me, and I came right over.” I pause. “Is it okay that I’m here? Do you want me to leave?”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay that you’re here,” he says as he tries to adjust his position.

  “Do you need help?” I ask as I move the sheets over a little so he can get where he wants to go.

  “I’m okay, thanks.”

  “What happened?” I ask, my tears making his face all blurry.

  “I did something really stupid. But I got lucky, and apparently, according to the doctor, I’m going to be okay.”

  “So you went running?”

  “Yeah,” he says with regret in his voice. “I couldn’t help myself. I was feeling so frustrated, almost depressed actually, and I wanted to get the endorphins going. I miss that feeling, and I needed it. I knew I was being stupid, but before my diagnosis I used to run hard and nothing ever happened, just shortness of breath sometimes. But I was always fine after. So I thought nothing would happen.”

  “What did happen?” I ask softly.

  “All I remember is that I started feeling short of breath and the next thing I knew I was in the ambulance staring up at the EMT. He told me that I had collapsed and someone on the street called 911.”

  “Did you—” I pause, having trouble getting out the words. “Did you have a heart attack?”

  “No, Coop. I didn’t. I’m fine. The doctor thinks I fainted. I’m lucky nothing worse happened. And I’m lucky I didn’t fall and hit my head on the cement. The EMT said that my head landed on some grass. I was in Union Square Park at that point, so I got lucky.”

  “I’m so happy you’re okay,” I say and we are both quiet for a minute. I’m not sure how to act around him. I want nothing more than to lower my head on his chest and kiss him and tell him how much I love him, but I’m trying to respect an invisible boundary. “You said you went running because you were feeling frustrated and depressed. What were you feeling frustrated and depressed about?” I ask.

  “Seriously, Coop? You.”

  I attempt a small smile and boldly reach for his hand, the one not attached to the IV line. He doesn’t pull it away. I’m so happy I could explode. Not happy, of course, that my boyfriend is lying in a hospital bed, but happy because what’s going on here makes it seem like my worst fears about our relationship aren’t substantiated.

  “So how long do they want you to stay here?” I ask.

  “Not entirely sure. They want to observe me for a while, they said, but they think I’ll be able to go home tonight.”

  “That’s great,” I say. “Is it okay if I stay here with you?”

  “Sure,” he says quietly. “But from the looks of that pretty dress, I’m guessing you are supposed to be somewhere else. Hot date?” he asks, smirking at me.

  “Definitely not,” I say, smiling at him. “Katherine is being honored and is speaking tonight at the Waldorf for a working women’s organization. I was going to keep her company at her table and lend my moral support.”

  “To tend to her?”

  “To tend to her,” I say.

  “But instead you’re tending to me,” he says softly.

  “Instead I am tending to you.”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds as we both absorb what’s going on.

  “Ty! Oh, shit, Ty!” I say suddenly.

  “What?” Nick asks.

  “I told him I’d let him know that you’re okay,” I say as I grab my bag from the chair in the corner and pull out my phone. I enter my password and then click on Ty’s number from my recents list. The phone rings once.

  “Lucy! Is he okay?” Ty asks in an expectant voice.

  “He’s fine, Ty. I’m sorry it took me so long to call you. He’s fine. He’s absolutely fine,” I say and start crying again.

  Nick looks at me and holds his hand out so I hand the phone to him.

  “Ty, hey,” Nick says. His voice sounds strong.

  “Nick, man, are you okay?” I can hear Ty’s voice through the phone.

  “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine,” Nick says.

  “Man, you scared the shit out of me! Thank God you’re okay,” Ty says.

  “Thanks, Ty. And thanks for calling Lucy. She came right over.”

  “All right, Nick. I gotta get back to practice. I snuck my phone in the waistband of my shorts so I could wait for Lucy’s call. Good thing I wasn’t practicing yet when the ambulance guy called or I wouldn’t have gotten the message for hours. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks, man. I’ll be fine. Go back to practice, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, you take care, Nick. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Nick hangs up and hands me back the phone. There are a million things I want to tell him: about Katherine, about the Post, about the epiphany I had this afternoon on my walk (that seems like days ago), about us.

  “I know we have a lot to talk about,” I say.

  “Yeah. Sorry about that note at the Union Square Cafe. You didn’t deserve that,” Nick says.

  “You had your reasons. And it didn’t rattle me as much as it could have. I know you too well.”

  “Not the most mature way to handle things.”<
br />
  “I meant it when I said that I was willing to do the things on the list. For you and for me. I’ve even done some already.”

  “Really?” Nick asks, smiling and tilting his head.

  “Yes. I told you last Saturday morning in that text that I wanted to do the plan.”

  “And then you stood me up.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Nick. Katherine and Theo. . . . You never let me explain—”

  “Actually, Coop,” Nick stops me. “I am happy you’re here. Trying to process it all, but, yes, I’m happy you’re here. And I do want to talk all about this stuff but I’d rather do it when I’m feeling a little better so I can concentrate. My head’s a little fuzzy right now.”

  “Of course. I totally understand.”

  We smile at each other, the beeping of the machines sound tracking the heaviness in the room.

  “You want to watch some basketball?”

  “Thought you’d never ask,” he says and points to the remote on the table next to the bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Last night I arrived at the emergency room a little after seven. We didn’t get out of there until one thirty Sunday morning. Nurses came in and out checking Nick’s vitals, repeating EKGs, talking to us. Then there was the very bland and salt-free meal that we shared. And there was lots of basketball. We didn’t talk again, after the first short interaction, about anything going on in our lives. When the doctor was happy with the state of Nick’s heart, they sent us on our way and told Nick to make a follow-up appointment with his cardiologist for next week. And they told him to avoid engaging in any strenuous activity until then.

  Nick felt fine so he was able to walk out of the hospital, instead of going in a wheelchair like the nurses offered, and we caught a cab back to his apartment. I enjoyed my job as caretaker and made sure Nick was comfortable when he finally, after a shower and a cup of tea, got into bed. He fell right asleep, and I, well, I just watched him sleep for a while. And I thanked God and the universe and NYU Hospital and the EMTs for delivering my sweet and good and beautiful man back to me so I could have another chance.

  When I wake up Sunday morning, sun streaming through the blinds that I forgot to close the night before, I roll over and find Nick staring at me.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” he says, grinning at me.

  “Good morning. How do you feel?” I ask.

  “Fine. I feel completely normal.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Except, there is one thing that’s different,” he says, looking troubled.

  “What?” I ask, concerned, hoisting myself up on one elbow.

  “You’re back in my bed,” he says, smiling.

  “I’m back in your bed,” I say.

  “It’s good to have you here.”

  “It is exceptionally good to be here. Too bad you can’t—how did the doctor phrase it?—engage, that’s right, engage in any strenuous activity,” I say, laughing.

  “It is too bad!” He says as he lightly whacks his pillow at me. “Too bad for you, that is,” he says.

  “Well, I probably should go.”

  “Why?” he asks, seemingly stunned that I’d even consider such a thing.

  “I have to go home and make a really important phone call to someone,” I say contritely.

  “Who?”

  “Well, you see, I’ve had this boyfriend for almost as long as I can remember. And we’ve been the best together. If you want to know the truth, I think we’re perfect for each other.”

  “Wow. Lucky guy.”

  “But, you see, I did a couple things wrong and I need to talk to him about them.”

  “That sounds terrible. What did you do?”

  “Well, I got extremely busy at my job. He wasn’t upset with that, you see, because he’s always been supportive of my career and he understands that my boss can be, how shall we put this? A little demanding and needy at times. But he was upset with the fact that I was neglecting our relationship, choosing her over him too many times, and getting sucked into this whole workaholic thing. He didn’t think it was healthy for me. He didn’t like that I felt so stressed all the time.”

  “Sounds like a thoughtful guy. Sounds pretty handsome, too.”

  “Oh yes, he’s very thoughtful and terribly handsome. Not as handsome as you, but close,” I say.

  “So what’s the second thing you did?” Nick asks.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes. I’m sure.”

  “Well, you see, he proposed to me.”

  “Wow! Congratulations!” Nick says.

  “Not so fast. I didn’t say yes.”

  “But why not? I thought you said you were perfect for each other and that he was very thoughtful and terribly handsome.”

  “Oh, I did. And he is. He most definitely is. But I was really scared.”

  “What were you scared of?”

  “I was scared of marriage. I was scared of committing myself to something that has no guarantees. I was scared of becoming like some other married couples I see. Some not-so-good ones. And I was scared that I couldn’t be the type of wife and mother that I knew he wanted me to be. But all that’s changed for me now. And now I’m ready to move forward with him.”

  “Hmmm. I can see why you two need to talk.”

  “Yes. So I better get up now. But if things don’t work out with this thoughtful and terribly handsome man, can I call you?”

  Nick grabs me and hugs me. Tightly. And doesn’t let me go. We stay that way for a while, just holding each other and Nick says, “I love you so much, Lucy. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I don’t want to lose you either, Nick,” I say, pulling away and looking into his eyes. “So much has happened over the past week that I need to talk to you about. There’s so much that has changed.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Okay, let’s get up and make some breakfast, and we can talk.”

  Nick gets into the shower and I head to the kitchen to put the coffee on. While I’m in the shower and the coffee’s brewing, Nick cooks eggs and toast, and we sit at the tiny kitchen table next to an open window and eat. We’re both starving.

  When we’ve finished eating, we head to the couch with our coffee mugs and I start talking. But before I get into everything Nick and Lucy, I decide to get all the other shit in my life out of the way. I tell him about how Ava asked me to be a source for the article on Katherine and how I was so disturbed by that and said no. I tell him about Katherine’s breakdown in the office and how I was surprised to hear that Katherine isn’t actually what she’s telling everyone she is. I tell him about how I walked in on Theo. I tell him about the job opening in the digital-media department, about how Katherine said she would support me and put in a good word for me, and how I found out from Sera that Katherine had done just the opposite, sabotaged my chance at the job, and lied to me. I tell him about how furious I was at that and how despondent I was over him and in a state of absolute weakness, anger, and misery, I did something horrible.

  “What did you do?” Nick asks. But not in an accusing voice. In a kind voice.

  “I don’t want to tell you. You’re going to be so disappointed in me,” I say shamefully, hiding my face in my hands so I don’t have to look in his eyes.

  And then, with my eyes still covered, I tell him how I gave the information to Daniel. But then I take my hands away from my eyes and tell him that I woke up the next morning completely disgusted with myself and that I tried to get in touch with Daniel and that I told Ava immediately to make sure Daniel didn’t write the article. I explain the whole thing: how it was too late, how he completely butchered and embellished what I told him, and how the article was a hatchet job. I tell him that Katherine went ballistic and that she has no idea that it was me who was the anonymous source and how she was so kind last night when she had Pancho drive me to the hospital. But most importantly I tell him about the life de
cisions I made yesterday during my walk.

  This whole time while we’re talking, I’m mostly sitting cross-legged on the couch, with a pillow over my lap, staring straight out, and gesticulating wildly with my hands. Nick sits calmly, his back up to the end of the couch so he can face me, listening intently, with a serious expression on his face, sipping his coffee now and then, not interrupting even once.

  I turn to face him. “I realize, now, Nick, that, yes, I do want to have a career as I get older. But I also want to be a great mom to lots of kids. And I want to have time to watch basketball, and have dinner at my mom’s, and exercise, and not be stressed out all the time. I realize that I can’t have all those things and have the kind of job Katherine has. And I’m starting to understand how marriage to the right person for the right reasons can be a beautiful and wonderful thing. And I want that. With the right person and for the right reasons.” I say as I put his coffee cup down on the table and hold his hands. “I want that with you. Do you think you can give me another chance?”

  Nick stares at me, a big grin developing on his face. He looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t even know where to start. I want to start with the last part but first, man, I can’t even leave you alone for one week! Look at all this stuff that’s happened to you!”

  “I know!” I say and start to cry and laugh at the same time.

  “And I was just sitting here in my apartment in these very same sweats all week, on this very same couch drinking out of this very same mug and trying to get all this Ty stuff worked out.”

  “I saw you, actually,” I say, not able to hold it in any longer.

  “What do you mean? Where?” he asks.

  “At Nobu. With that blonde.”

  “You were there?” he asks, confused.

  “I came to surprise you. Because I had that dinner with you and Grant on my calendar. But then I walked in and saw you with that girl and I left,” I say sadly.

  “That was Jenna. You’ve met Jenna. She’s Grant’s attorney,” he says, calmly.

  “Jenna?”

  “Yeah, Jenna. Did you think I was on a date?”