The Edge of Always teon-2

by J. A. Redmerski

  “Feelin’ any better today?” Natalie asks.

  I slip my feet down into my Rocket Dog loafers—or as Andrew calls them, the ugliest shoes he’s ever seen—and then start brushing out my hair.

  “Yeah, actually I do feel better,” I say, looking at her through the reflection in the mirror. “Still a little off, but better than yesterday.”

  “Do me a favor and keep an eye on her,” Andrew says to Natalie. “If she starts complaining of pains or whatever, give me a call, all right?”

  Natalie nods. “Sure thing. I mean it wouldn’t be the first time the girl ignored a health problem. Last year she lay around for two days moaning and groaning about a toothache—it was so annoying—before she finally went to the dentist.”

  “I’m standing right here,” I say, pausing with the brush against my hair.

  Natalie waves me off and goes back to Andrew. “I’ll call you if she sneezes more than four times in a row.”

  “Good,” Andrew says and then turns back around to me. “You hear that?” he asks sternly. “I’ve got backup now.”

  Since when did Andrew become part of the Natalie clique? Just a few seconds ago he was one hundred percent anti-Natalie. I shake my head and go back to my hair, twirling it through my fingers into a braid and snapping a rubber band on the end.

  Andrew kisses me and Lily good-bye and heads out to wherever with Blake. And I’m heading out the door with Natalie shortly after, hoping I can get through this day without back pains or anything else that might trigger Natalie to call Andrew and haul my ass off to the nearest emergency room.

  We spend some time in our usual Starbucks first and then hit the mall to swing by Bath and Body Works, where Natalie has been working for a month. She introduces me to her manager and the two girls who work with her. I forget their names right after they tell me. Her manager is nice, even told me to come back and fill out an application if I wanted. Natalie jumped right in to explain that I would be heading back to Texas soon, and when I didn’t confirm her statement fast enough, Natalie knew I was holding something in and she could hardly stand it. I smiled and thanked her manager, and the next thing I know, Natalie is practically dragging me out of the store and is in my face.

  “Spill it!” she says, her eyes bugged out of her head.

  I step over to the balcony railing and lean against it. She follows, dropping her purse and one store bag on the floor next to her feet.

  I contemplate my answer, because really I’m not sure what to say. I can’t say that yes, I’m moving back to Raleigh, because to Natalie that will translate as: I’m moving back here and everything is going to be exactly the way it was before. What it really means is that I miss Natalie and my mom, and because Texas and I just weren’t right for each other.

  The truth suddenly dawns on me as I stare out intently across the mall. All those days I lay around in bed staring up at the ceiling while Andrew was working at the shop with Billy Frank, I kept trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, why I’ve been feeling so homesick yet at the same time not really wanting to come back home. I remember when I first arrived in Texas with Andrew. Hell, I remember while we were on the road together shortly before we drove over the Texas state line. I didn’t want to go there. I was afraid that everything would end in Texas, that the exciting life I was living with Andrew on the road would become nothing more than a memory once we made it to our final destination.

  And in a way… it has…

  I swallow a huge lump in my throat and mentally catch my breath.

  It’s not because of Lily. I love her so much and could never blame her. Because the truth is that life doesn’t end with a pregnancy. A lot of people seem to think that, but I believe in my heart that it’s all in the way you choose to live it. Sure, having a baby is one of the most difficult things to do, but it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t have to be the shattering of a person’s dreams. What Andrew and I have been slowly doing without realizing it is what shatters dreams: we’ve been getting too comfortable. The kind of comfortable that sneaks up on you years later, hits you in the back of the head, and says: Hey dumbass! Do you realize you’ve been doing this shit every day for the past ten years?

  I keep my eyes trained out ahead. “I’m not sure what we’re doing, Nat,” I say and then finally look over at her. “I mean, yes, I’m moving back home, but…”

  Her dark eyebrows draw inward with a questioning look. “But what?”

  I look away, and when I don’t answer her fast enough she says, “Oh, no, don’t tell me Andrew’s not coming with you. Girl, is something going on with you two?”

  I swing back around. “No, Nat, it’s nothing like that, and yes, he’s definitely coming with me—I don’t know. It’s just hard to explain.”

  She purses her lips, lifting one side of her mouth, and takes a hold of my elbow. “We’ve got all afternoon for you to figure it out, so let’s get to the salon and you can be thinking really hard about it on the way.” She bends over and takes up her purse and bag, dangling them on her free wrist while walking with me toward the closest mall exit.

  We’re at the salon in minutes and it’s a packed house, which is exactly how I remembered it being on weekends. Natalie and I are perched high in the pedicure chairs with two girls tending to our bare feet. It’s been a long time since my last pedicure, so I hope my toes aren’t too hideous.

  “You know, Cam, you never did tell me why you left.” Natalie looks over at me. “Please tell me it wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t anyone’s fault in particular,” I say. “I just needed to get away for a while. I couldn’t breathe.”

  “Well, I’d never do something that reckless, but I admit, the way things turned out was nothing short of amazing.”

  That makes me smile. “They did, didn’t they?”

  “Absolutely,” she says beaming, her brown eyes lit up. “You ended up with sex on legs”—the girl doing her pedicure glances up briefly—“an engagement ring, and a cute-ass baby on the way.” Natalie laughs. “I’m fuckin’ jealous!”

  I laugh too, though not as loud. “First off, why be jealous of me when you’ve got Blake? And second, how do you know what our baby will look like?”

  Natalie purses her lips and looks over at me like I’m stupid. “Seriously? The two of you couldn’t produce an ugly baby.” The girl doing my toes rolls her eyes at the other girl. “And I’m not jealous of you because of Andrew, I’m jealous because I’ll probably end up like my mom, never seeing much outside of North Carolina. I’m OK with that. I’m not like Miss Greyhound, and I feel claustrophobic when someone breathes on me too closely, but in a way I do envy you.”

  I think to myself about what she said, but I don’t elaborate on it.

  My back is starting to hurt again, and I try readjusting myself on the seat without being able to move my feet much. My side hurts a little, too, but I’m sure it’s from all of the walking around today.

  “So have you figured it out?” Natalie asks.

  “What?”

  She blinks, surprised at how easily it seems I forgot our conversation at the mall. I didn’t forget at all; I’ve just been trying to avoid it.

  “The truth is,” I begin, looking away from her and picturing Andrew in my mind, “I don’t want to move back home or stay in Texas. I mean I do want to be here, but I’m terrified I’ll end up like your mom, too.” I never would’ve used her mom as an example, but it really was the easiest way to make Natalie understand, especially since she just used the same comparison moments ago, so it was a no-brainer.

  “Yeah, I totally get you,” Natalie says, nodding. “But what else would you do? There’s really not much you can do otherwise, especially with a baby on the way.”

  God, why did she have to say that? I sigh quietly and try not to look at her so she doesn’t see the disappointment in my face. Natalie is my best friend, but I’ve always known she’ll be one of those people who live out their entire lives in a color
less bubble and only wake up to regret it when it’s too late to change it. She just proved it with her comment about how having a baby pretty much means the end of line as far as a fun, fulfilling kind of life is concerned. And because she’ll never understand, I don’t respond to that, either.

  “Cam? You sure you’re OK?”

  I catch my breath and look over at her. Another sharp pain moves through my side and suddenly I feel like I’m starting to break out in a mild sweat. Without regard to the girl doing my pedicure, I pull my foot away from her hands and grab the arms of the chair to lift myself out of it.

  “I need to go the restroom.”

  “Camryn?”

  “I’m alright, Nat,” I say, stepping down from the chair. “Sorry,” I say to the girl, and I make my way past her and head toward the short hallway underneath the restroom sign. I try not to look like I’m in pain on the way because I don’t want Natalie following me, but knowing her she will, anyway.

  Placing my hand on the stall door, I swing it open and lock myself inside, finally able to show my true level of discomfort. Tiny beads of sweat cover my forehead and the area underneath my nostrils. Something’s definitely not right. This may be my first time ever experiencing a pregnancy, but I can still tell that what I’m feeling right now isn’t normal. I use the restroom quickly, head out of the tiny stall that’s only adding to the discomfort, and move over to the elongated sink.

  This can’t be happening…

  My hands are shaking uncontrollably. No, my whole body is shaking. I raise my hand to the automatic soap dispenser and wash my hands but I never get the chance to dry them off before what is going on hits me full force. I break down in a blubbering mess, pressing my hands against the edge of the counter. The physical pain is gone for now, but… maybe I’m just being paranoid. Yeah, that’s all it is. Paranoia. The pain is gone, so surely I’m all right.

  I take a deep breath and then several more before raising my head from between my slouching shoulders and look at myself in the mirror. I lift one wet hand and wipe the sweat from my face and the leftover tears from my cheeks. I even feel better long enough to be grossed out when I realize I’m standing in a public restroom with bare feet.

  The entrance door swings open and Natalie marches inside.

  “Seriously, are you OK? No, I take that back, obviously you’re not, so what’s going on? I’m calling Andrew. Right now.” She starts to leave the restroom and go back into the front where her phone is, but I stop her.

  “Nat, no, just wait.”

  “Screw that,” she says. “I’m calling him in exactly sixty seconds, so you have less than that now to explain.”

  I give in because as much as I wanted to let myself believe I’m OK, deep down I know I’m not. Especially after what I saw before I left the stall.

  “I’ve been having back and side pain and I’m spotting.”

  “Spotting?” She makes a slight disgusted face, but masks it well and is clearly more worried than disgusted. “You mean like… blood?” She looks at me in a suspicious sidelong glance and then holds it there until I answer.

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, the bathroom door swings shut behind her and she’s gone.

  Now, there comes a time in a person’s life when you have to face something so horrible that you feel like you’ll never be the same person again. It’s like something dark swoops down from somewhere above and steals every shred of happiness you have ever felt and all you can do is watch it, feel it go, knowing that no matter what you do in your life that you’ll never be able to get it back. Everybody goes through this at least once. No one is immune. But what I fail to understand is how one person can go through it enough for five people and in such a short time.

  * * *

  I’m lying in an emergency room hospital bed curled up within a blanket. Natalie sits on the chair to my left. I can’t speak. I’m too scared.

  “What the fuck is taking them so long?” Natalie says about the doctors. She stands up and begins to pace the room, her tall heels clicking softly against the bright white tile floor.

  Then she changes her tune.

  She stops and looks at me and says with a hopeful face, “Maybe since they’re taking their sweet time about checking you out, they don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

  I don’t believe that, but I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. This is only the second time I’ve ever been to an ER. My first time, when I nearly drowned after jumping off bluffs into the lake, it seemed I was in there for six hours. And that was mostly just to stitch up the gash I got on my hip from when I hit the rocks.

  I roll over and lie on my side and stare at the wall. Just seconds after, the sliding glass door opens. I think it’s finally a doctor, but my heart skips a few beats when Andrew comes into the room. He and Natalie exchange a few low words that I pretend not to hear.

  “They haven’t even been in here yet except to ask her a few questions and to give her a blanket.”

  Andrew’s eyes fall on mine briefly, and I see the worry in his face even though he’s trying really hard not to be so obvious. He knows what’s happening as much as I do, but also like me, he’s not going to say it or let himself believe it until a doctor confirms it first.

  They talk for a few seconds more and then Natalie comes over to the side of the bed and leans over to hug me.

  “Only one person allowed in here with you at a time,” she says as she pulls away. “I’m going to sit out in the waiting area with Blake.” She forces a smile at me. “You’ll be alright. And if they don’t hurry up and do something, I’m going to raise some hell up in this bitch.”

  I smile a little, too, thankful for Natalie’s ability to make that happen even in my darkest hour.

  She stops at the door and whispers to Andrew, “Please let me know as soon as you do,” and then she slips out of the room, closing the glass door behind her.

  My heart sinks when Andrew looks at me again, because this time I have his full attention. He pulls the empty chair over and sets it down next to my bed. He takes my hand and squeezes it gently.

  “I know you feel like shit,” he says, “so I’m not going to ask.”

  I try to smile, but I can’t.

  We just look at each other for a while. It’s like we know what the doctor will say. Neither one of us are allowing ourselves to believe that maybe, just maybe, things will be OK. Because they won’t be. But Andrew, doing everything he can to comfort me, won’t allow himself to cry or to appear too concerned. But I know that he’s wearing a mask for my sake. I know his heart is hurting.

  Before long, a doctor comes in with a nurse and in some strange, dreamlike state I eventually hear him say that there is no heartbeat. I think the world has come out from underneath me, but I’m not sure. I see Andrew’s eyes, glazed over by a thin layer of moisture as he stares at the doctor while the doctor speaks words that have faded into the background of my mind.

  Lily’s heart is no longer beating.

  And I think… yeah, neither is mine…

  8

  We’ve been in Raleigh for two weeks now. I won’t even go into all the shit we—Camryn—has gone through in that time. I refuse to talk about the details. Lily is gone, and Camryn and I are devastated. There’s nothing I can do to bring her back, and I’m trying to cope any way I can, but Camryn hasn’t been herself since that day and I’m starting to wonder if she ever will be again. She won’t talk to anyone. Not to me or her mom or Natalie. She talks, just not about what happened. I can’t stand to see her this way because it’s obvious, under that I’m-perfectly-fine façade, that she’s in so much pain. And I feel powerless to help her.

  Camryn has been in the shower for a long time while I’ve lain here in her bedroom staring up at the ceiling. My phone rings next to me on the nightstand.

  “Hello?” I ask.

  It’s Natalie. “I need to talk to you. Are you alone?”

  Caught off guard, it takes me a sec
ond to reply. “What for? And yes, Camryn’s in the shower.”

  I glance toward the door to make sure no one is listening. The water is still running in the shower, so I know Camryn is still in there.

  “Has her mom said anything to you about… anything?” Natalie asks suspiciously, and I get the strangest feeling from it.

  “You need to elaborate a little more than that,” I say. Already this conversation is annoying the piss out of me.

  She sighs heavily into the phone and I’m growing impatient.

  “OK, listen; Cam is obviously not herself,” she begins (yeah, no shit), “and you need to try to talk her into going back to her psychiatrist. Soon.”

  Her psychiatrist?

  I hear the water shut off, and I glance toward the closed door again.

  “What are you talking about, her psychiatrist?” I ask in a lowered voice.

  “Yeah, she used to see one and—”

  “Wait,” I whisper harshly.

  The bathroom door opens, and I hear Camryn shuffling back toward the room.

  “She’s coming back,” I say really fast. “I’ll call you back in a few.”

  I hang up and set the phone on the nightstand seconds before Camryn opens the door wearing a pink bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head.

  “Hey,” I say as I pull my hands behind the back of my head and lock my fingers.

  All I really want to do is call Natalie back and find out everything she was going to tell me, but instead I do one better and just go to the source. Besides, I’m not about keeping secrets from her. Been there, done that once, and I won’t do it again.

  She smiles across the room at me, then tosses her hair over and works the towel in it with her hands.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” she says, rising back up and letting her wet blonde hair fall behind her.

  “Did you used to see a psychiatrist?”

  The smile disappears from her face and is instantly replaced by a deadpanned expression. She walks over to the closet and opens it. “Why do you ask?”