Not So Easy

by Sherry Gammon

  Jeff pulled Max by the arm back down the hall. “Here’s the plan, I’ll divert her, you go check on Em.”

  “How are you going to divert her?”

  “I’m going to put on the old Morgan charm. She’ll be putty in my hands in no time.” Jeff flashed a movie-star smile Max didn’t know he had, and they strutted back up to the desk.

  “So, Candy.” Out came the smile. Max wasn’t sure but he thought the girl cooed. “You don’t mind if I call you Candy, do you, because I’ll bet you are delicious.”

  Max bit his tongue to keep from laughing. He wondered if Leo’d given him tips.

  “Candy, I’ve got something in my eyes, and frankly, it’s interfering with my day. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I don’t know what to do.” He sighed dramatically.

  “What is it?” Concern filled her lightly freckled face.

  “You,” he said, offering her another prize grin.

  When she dropped her head to giggle, Jeff waved Max on. He loped down the hall, straight to Emma’s room. He entered cautiously, in case her family was there. The room was completely empty except for two unoccupied beds.

  A man cleared his throat behind him. Max pinched his eyes shut. “Do you live here?”

  Dr. Colter chuckled. “It feels like it some days.”

  Max turned around slowly, mostly because it was the only way he could turn without causing pain. “I guess you’re going to escort me out of the hospital now?”

  “I’m going to escort you and Brad Pitt over there,” he pointed to Jeff still flirting up a storm, “to the elevators and send you both down to room 387 to see Emma.”

  “She’s awake?”

  “Yes. She woke just after three this morning, Coma Whisperer. What did you say to her anyway?” He pulled the pen light from his pocket and looked into JD’s eyes.

  “Just to not give up,” he said.

  “Good advice. How are you feeling today?”

  “Sore.”

  “May I see your ribs?” Max pulled up his shirt, the doctor winced.

  “How you got away without a break is beyond me.” He slipped the light back in his breast pocket. “Go on. Go see Emma, Coma Whisperer.”

  “Thanks.” Max grabbed Jeff, much to Candy’s dismay, and they went downstairs. Her parents were there, as was Noah.

  “Hello, boys.” Marty shook their hands. “Come on in. We’re going to be restricting visitors so Em can heal. Please keep it brief. She’s very weak.”

  “Daddy, that is so rude,” Emma complained, her voice frail.

  “He wants what’s best, Em, it’s okay.” Max agreed with her dad a hundred percent. Looking at her last night and again this morning unsettled him. He’d never seen her look so delicate.

  “Thank you, JD. And no. Siding with me didn’t earn you extra time,” Marty joked. At least Max thought it was a joke.

  Jeff snagged her hand before Max could. Max’s blood pressure jumped. Calm it down, Max. He saved your life yesterday. He tried not to smile when Emma drew her hand back after a few seconds.

  “I’m fine. Everyone is making a big deal out of a little accident.”

  “A concussion—and subsequent coma, a broken arm and collarbone. I hardly call that a little accident,” Max snapped.

  “Thank you, JD. Now that did earn you extra time,” her father said. Emma rolled her eyes.

  “We’re just glad you’re alright,” Jeff said. “The school banned the pyramid, just so you know.”

  “Too bad they didn’t do that a couple days ago,” Max complained.

  “Sweetheart, I think we need to adopt JD. I like how he thinks.” Marty smiled.

  “I heard about what happened to you yesterday, JD. Are you okay?” Emma asked, her voice growing weaker.

  “I’m fine thanks to Jeff, and we need to get going so you can rest.” Max tugged on Jeff’s arm.

  “Agreed. Take care, Em. We’ll stop in tomorrow.” Jeff nodded to the rest of the family.

  “Thank you for stopping in, boys,” Bev said. “And thank you for understanding also.”

  Neither said a word until they came to the end of the hall.

  “She looks terrible.” Jeff broke the silence first.

  Max agreed. “Tell me about it. I wanted to send everyone out of the room so she could sleep.”

  “Let’s go. I hate hospitals.” He shivered.

  “I need to check on my friend, Izzy Thurston, again. You go ahead,” Max said.

  “Are you sure? I have Trig homework I can do while you visit,” he offered.

  “No. I live pretty close. Besides, now that Nate’s in jail, I’m good.”

  “If you’re sure.” Max nodded. “Still can’t believe the idiot punched a cop,” Jeff said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Max went directly to Izzy’s room, hoping her father had magically dropped off the face of the earth. He hadn’t.

  “Hello, JD.” The pervert looked at his daughter’s smiling face and frowned. “I do believe you enjoy seeing JD more than you do me, Isabelle. You never smile like that when I visit. Do you two have something going on I don’t know about?”

  “I guess our secret’s out, Izzy. You’re right, sir. Izzy and I are eloping as soon as she’s released. I’m carrying her love child and she’s agreed to marry me.” Max regretted saying it the second it passed his lips, as did JD. But the damage was done.

  Izzy laughed. “Dad, JD is kidding. He’s gay, remember?”

  JD’s gay?

  Max forced a laugh. “Yup. Just a little joke,” you freakin’ pervert.

  “Well,” he glared, “you’ve always had a strange sense of humor.” He kissed Izzy on the forehead, eyeing Max as he did.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, kitten. Did the doctor tell you what time you’d be discharged?” When he stroked her hair, she pulled away from his touch.

  “Lunchtime. At least that’s the plan.”

  Kevin picked up a leather briefcase from off the floor next to the bedside table. “I’ll try and get away by noon. I have an important meeting tomorrow and I’ll be going out of town tomorrow evening, remember. Maybe you should stay—”

  “No. I’m coming home. I can take care of myself. The nurse said I’m a whiz at emptying this,” she patted her stomach. Max assumed she referred to the pouch. “So there’s no need to stay.”

  “Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye,” he said with a short nod.

  “Are you crazy? You know the only reason you’re allowed in my house when he’s gone is because I lied and told him you’re gay. Jeez, JD.” Izzy got up and, holding her pouch against her stomach, gingerly over to the door, shutting it.

  “Sorry. I forgot.”

  “How’s Emma?” She climbed back in bed.

  “Better. She’s out of her coma, though she looks terrible.” Max leaned against the wall. “Are you really leaving tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’m going nuts in here. I can only do so much homework.” She pointed to the small pile of books and papers stacked on the nightstand. “Promise you’ll come by still. I know Em’s here and all, but don’t forget about me.”

  Max’s heart sank. “Izzy, you’re my best friend. I promise I’m not going to forget about you. Especially not for Emma McKay. Now Jeff Morgan, maybe,” he smiled mischievously.

  Someone knocked on the door, pushing it open. “Time for another lesson, Izzy.” A tall man in a white lab coat padded to the foot of her bed, a plastic bag in his hand.

  “JD, unless you want to learn how to change my little baggie, you may want to leave.” No one had to tell him twice. He made his way out the door, promising to check in with her tomorrow.

  The next day, Max rode the bus home from school. With a ton of homework weighing his backpack down, he didn’t want to carry it all the way home from the hospital. He called and checked to make sure Izzy had been discharged. She had. Since he needed to go from the hospital to Izzy’s, he broke down and took the pink bike to save time.

  “JD, hi,” Em said
weakly as he knocked on the metal doorframe. “Come in.”

  He walked in and glanced around for her dad. “The coast is clear. My dad had to work, and my mom took Noah to karate.”

  Max stepped up to her bed. She held out her hand and he gladly took it. “How’s the face? It seems a little better today.”

  “It’s getting there. They arrested Nate, so I won’t have to worry about him, at least for a while.”

  “Good. I’ve been concerned.” She squeezed his hand. “JD, I need to tell you about this crazy dream I had. Have a seat.”

  Max reluctantly let go of her hand and settled in a small plastic chair next to the bed. He immediately wished for the nice recliner from Izzy’s room as he shifted around on his sore tailbone.

  “I dreamt you came to see me the first night I was here. You were telling me you had to hurry, though I can’t remember why. Anyway, you said Izzy needed me, except here’s the strange part. It was your face, but Max’s voice. Weird, huh?”

  “Yes,” Max said, knowing full well it wasn’t. “Did I say anything else?”

  “Ah, yes, but I can’t remember what.”

  Max knew by the pink in her cheeks she remembered. Good.

  “How is Izzy?”

  “She’s gone home. I’m going over there after I visit with you.”

  “Tell her hi for me, and that when I get out of here we can compare war wounds.”

  “I will.” He leaned in closer to her. “Em, can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Do you still wish you’d, you know, died that night?”

  “No.” She shook her head, biting her lower lip. “I don’t. Promise. Being here and seeing how anxious my family and friends were opened my eyes. I have a lot to live for. But honestly, JD, it still hurts. I miss him so much. The life we planned together, the adventures we were going to have all died, too.”

  “I know, but—” A couple cheerleaders burst into the room carrying shiny silver balloons. Elise held a fuzzy teddy bear. Max moved away.

  “Oops, sorry. We’ll wait out here,” said Elise. They backed out of the room.

  “It looks like your cheer team is here. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  She reached out and took his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Thanks, JD. You’re the best.”

  He made his way out of the room through the sea of balloons. Not only cheerleaders came, but several other people stood waiting to see her as well. A nurse stepped in front of the female mob and recited the rules for visiting Emma.

  “Five minutes each, and no more than three people at a time, per the family’s request.” Max left as several of the girls begged the nurse to make an exception for them.

  He pedaled to Izzy’s, perspiration streaming down his back. He hated spring heat waves. Summers were hot enough, spring didn’t need to be miserable also. He parked the bike on the front walk next to the house and rang the doorbell.

  “Hello, JD.” Kevin stood in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled tight. “Ah, go around to the back patio. I’ll send Izzy outside. You’re a mess.”

  Max thought it strange, but didn’t say anything. He waited for Izzy to come out as he viewed the backyard. He decided Kevin Thurston had a thing for white. Every flower was white and every flowering bush had white blooms.

  Izzy lumbered out, grinning. “Let me guess. He saw you covered in sweat and told you to come out here.” He nodded. “As you know, the guy’s a clean freak.” She sat carefully on one of the white lounge chairs.

  Before Max could sit, her dad came outside and laid a white towel over the other lounge chair. “Here you go, JD.” Izzy rolled her eyes.

  Max lowered his sweaty body onto the towel. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Kitten, I have to pick up Wanda. Our plane leaves in two hours. Call me if you need anything.” Kevin leaned in to kiss her, she pulled back.

  “Dad, we have company.” She pointed to Max.

  “Stay out of the house, JD. The cleaning woman just came yesterday.” Kevin went back inside, picking up a canvas suitcase and his leather briefcase.

  Izzy twisted around and watched him leave. She stood and walked to the patio door, stretching to see. “He’s almost down the driveway.” She stepped inside. “Okay. He’s gone. Let’s get out of the heat.”

  Max followed her inside, practically swooning when the cool AC air hit him. Izzy poured him a glass of lemonade as he put on her dad’s slippers. She poured herself some water.

  “I’ve been working on some of my paintings this morning. Do you want to see?” She handed him his glass.

  “Yeah. I’d loved to.” Max had no idea Izzy painted. In fact, he’d never known anyone who painted.

  “It’s up in my room.” He followed her up the grand staircase off the living room. He still couldn’t get over how immaculate the house was. He thought it kind of weird since the guy was a filthy pervert.

  Izzy led him to the second room on the left. He smiled as he stepped in. The room exploded with color, mostly purple. Her bed, a white four poster with a purple canopy sat near the window, unmade. Discarded clothes covered the floor and the top of her dresser.

  Off the bedroom sat a small room with tall windows. Unlike her bedroom, order reigned this room. Paintbrushes, canvas, chalks all stacked in neat, perfect rows. On a shelf in the corner sat fifteen, maybe twenty sketchpads. The room smelled of paint thinner.

  “Here it is. What do you think?” She stood next to an easel near the corner that held a large canvas, probably twenty-four by thirty-six inches. Max stepped over next to her, hoping she didn’t paint the crazy modern art junk his mom used to love. When he looked at a picture of a person, he didn’t want to see six arms, one eye, and three breasts. Okay, maybe the three breasts.

  Holding his breath and planning his controlled reaction, he turned to the canvas. His mouth dropped open. Izzy was an artist. A genuine, real-deal artist. On the left side of the canvas she’d painted a couple holding hands, walking along the beach, footprints trailing them. On the other side, two little girls ran toward the couple with their arms swinging wildly in the air as they approached a flock of seagulls. Incredible details, even the birds, each in different stages of flight, brought the canvas to life. The expression of sheer joy on the faces of the little girls made him smile.

  “Izzy, this is beautiful.”

  She blushed, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Thanks. It’s not quite done. I need to work on the sky a little. I remember it being much bluer that day.” She caressed the edge of the painting.

  “This is from a memory, I take it.”

  “Yes. Every summer when we were little, we’d go down to Virginia Beach for summer vacation. Kelley and I looked forward to the trips. We’d count down the days, and plan out our sand fortresses. We were all so happy back then. My parents snuggled on the beach while Kelley and I pretended to be surfers with our Styrofoam inner tubes.” She laughed, allowing her fingers to trace the mother in the painting. “Two years later, they were sleeping in separate rooms and barely speaking to each other.” She sighed, turning away from the painting.

  “Izzy, you have a gift. What about college? Have you thought about going after you graduate?”

  She stomped her foot. “JD! You know I have. Yale. We’ve talked about it.”

  “Yale. Yes, that’s right. Have you applied? I can’t remember.” He scrunched his eyes, hoping she didn’t get mad.

  “No. Have you applied to Columbia yet?” she snapped back. Columbia University. He remembered seeing the application in JD’s box.

  “No, but I will tonight,” he said firmly.

  “I’ve heard you say that before.”

  Maybe, but this time it will get done.

  She stepped over to another canvas that lay rolled up in the corner. It was smaller, about sixteen by twenty. She set it on the small drawing table Max hadn’t noticed before. “I want to show you something. It’s my favorite painting so far.” She fingered the rolled up canvas for a moment.

  “JD, do
you remember the summer I turned eleven? I got that digital camera for my birthday and we rode our bikes to the canal. You saw that field of dandelions and I started taking pictures left and right.” Max tried to imagine the scene in his mind. Two best friends, laughing in the sun, snapping pictures of weeds. He smiled.

  She pulled out a photograph and handed it to him. “Remember this one I took of us?” The photo was of Izzy and JD laying back in a field of yellow dandelions, sunburned noses and bright clear smiles. The innocent looks on their faces as they giggled into the camera awed him. It was before their world turned dark and pain took over their expressions. As he stared at the photo, she unrolled the canvas. Izzy had recreated the picture, perfectly, down to the innocent eyes.

  Max teared up. Life had been so unfair to these two. He wanted to grab them both and take them far away from all the ugliness surrounding them.

  “JD.” Izzy stepped close to him and rested her forehead on his. “Why do you always cry when I show you my work? These are happy paintings.”

  “It’s just that things are so different now,” he said, staring at the painting.

  “Yes. Painful and miserable.” She clenched her jaw, stepping back. “Are you one hundred percent certain about canceling the pact?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “And you need to be, too. Things are already getting better, Izzy. We’ve made new friends—”

  “JD, you got the crap beat out of you,” she pointed out.

  “And Jeff Morgan stepped in and saved my life,” he rebutted.

  “Those are your friends, not mine.” She rolled up the painting and carefully placed it in the corner.

  “We’ve been over this. They’re our friends. You need to reach out to them and trust them. Just today when I visited Em, she asked about you. And she said when she felt better the two of you could compare war wounds.”

  “She did? Really?” A smile brightened Izzy’s face.

  “Yes. Now, where are the pills? I think we should get rid of them, in case one of us has a bad day and tries to do something stupid.” He held out his hand and waited.