Just then, the lights flickered, a slight buzzing rang throughout the house, then all the lights shut off and the humming of the fridge stopped. No power. I couldn’t believe Linda had kept all of this from me.
Furious, I took the letter, grabbed the keys to the Wagoneer, and drove the four-minute drive down to the café. I hopped the curb when I parked and ignored the meter. Linda’s café was simply named COFFEE, written in large gold letters over the heavy wooden door. The customer service bell rang loudly when I pushed it open.
“Linda!” I shouted as I tried to catch my breath. There were only a few customers in the café, and they all turned to look when I entered.
“Linda!” I shouted again, heading towards the counter.
Finally, Linda popped up from under the cappuccino machine. “Swayzi? What are you doing…” She noticed I was still wearing my nighty. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I held up the letter from the insurance company. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
Linda looked at the customers now watching us and spoke quietly. “I didn’t want you to worry,” she said nonchalantly as if that justified it.
I looked over my shoulder and the customers turned away, suddenly uncomfortable by my presence. I leaned closer to Linda whispering, “Well…I’m worried. The power just went out at the house. You haven’t been paying the bills?”
Linda groaned. “I told them I would pay that bill this afternoon. They said they wouldn’t turn it off. I’ll call them again, all right?”
“No, it’s not all right. What’s going on? Why did they deny the claim?”
“Baby, a lot of the procedures and tests we did over the summer were not covered. But don’t worry. I’m working on a payment plan, and I’m looking into some other options as well.”
Don’t worry? If I had known, I would have denied the treatment. That was probably why she didn’t tell me.
“I wish you’d have told me.” I began to tear up, frustrated that I was causing her more problems. Not only would she be emotionally ruined after I died but financially as well.
Linda grasped both of my shoulders, forcing me to look her in the eyes. “Swayzi, I know the line between mother and daughter has been blurred over the years, but every so often, I need to be the parent.”
“You said you were looking into some other options. What does that mean?”
“I have an upcoming appointment with the bank. I may take out a second mortgage on the house.” She turned away and began putting away the clean mugs sitting on the counter.
“No, Linda, you can’t. We’ll find another way,” I pleaded.
“This conversation is over, Swayzi. It’s not up to you. And I can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing slippers and a nighty in my café.” The tension was broken at the sound of her laugh. I pulled at my night gown, suddenly embarrassed. She had me there. I looked ridiculous.
I tried taking a deep breath between my sudden giggles, but my lungs again didn’t feel like they were getting enough air. “I’m going back to the house to change. Can you call the power company, please?” I asked between short breaths.
“Yes, I’ll call them now. I promise. You all right?” She narrowed her eyebrows.
“Yes.” I fanned my face. “Just a little short of breath is all. See you later?”
“Later.” She was clearly unconvinced of my wellbeing.
I would have to figure out a way to pay off the debt Linda owed. I still had my wish from the Make a Wish Foundation. Maybe I could wish for money, though I doubted it worked that way.
I pulled on the heavy door to exit and looked back at Linda once more as she retreated into the kitchen. On my way out, I smacked my shoulder into someone and dropped my keys. “Sorry,” we both said in unison. I bent down for the keys, but the heavy café door bumped me forward again as it closed, causing me to fall forward onto my knees.
“Ouch,” I said, now looking for the keys with blurred vision from the fall.
“Here, I got you,” a smooth voice said before a hand reached for my hand to help me up. I blinked twice, my vision still foggy, but I held out my hand to accept the help.
My vision came into focus just as his hand touched mine and then a sudden shock shook me, almost like a defibrillator hitting my chest. It’s him—the mysterious boy from the dock.
Once I was upright, he let go of me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I…” I stammered, “I think so.”
I had lost my train of thought. I was too distracted by how beautiful he was. His dark brown hair was swept perfectly, the top longer and more tousled than the shorter sides. His jaw line was sharp, but his skin was smooth, softening his strong features. But it was his fierce blue eyes that held me rapt. They were a sharp blue, like the jagged edges of broken glass, and they were large. The only imperfection I could see were the sunken purple circles under the bottom lids. He wore a white, long sleeve shirt that tightly hugged his muscular frame, and he was tall enough that I had to tilt my head to look at him.
“Are you sure you’re well?” he asked again, his eyes searching mine.
His voice was muffled and distant, and I started seeing double. My back flared up with excruciating pain, like razor blades were slicing through my large intestine. I instinctively tried to cradle my lower back, but the last thing I remember was falling toward the concrete and sure hands catching me before I reached the ground.
I knew where I was without having to open my eyes. I recognized the beep beep beep of the heart rate monitor and the familiar silence of the ICU wing of James Bay Regional Hospital.
When my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw Linda sitting in the chair next to my bed, her hand clutching mine. On her lap was her brown leather journal where she recorded all my trips to the hospital, which medication I was on, which procedures and tests I’d had, and what doctors were in which specialty.
When she thought I was sleeping, she would cry. I would hear her begging the doctors and nurses to try another test. She was always looking for answers and would call specialist after specialist until finally they would give me an appointment.
“Hi, Baby, how are you feeling?” she asked, squeezing my hand more, her eyes studying mine.
I assessed the damage like I always did, starting at my toes, wiggling them, and working my way up to my fingertips. I lifted my hand, my fingers touching my throat, then my lips—to my surprise—no breathing tube. Either the meds I was taking were fantastic, or I actually felt decent. “Actually…I feel…pretty good…What happened?”
Before she could answer, Doctor Cooper walked in the room. “Miss Solasta, how are you feeling?” he asked, flipping through my extensive chart. Each hospital visit added a few more pages, making it the size of one of those unused encyclopedia books in the dusty corner of the school library.
I sat up adjusting all the cords attached to me. “I feel okay. What happened? I had this… pain—here,” I said, reaching around to my back to show him where. “My vision was blurry, but then I don’t remember anything.”
“Yes, that sounds about right. Did you feel itchy at all before you collapsed?” he asked as he checked my heart beat with his stethoscope. He nodded toward my forearm which looked like a cat had used it as a scratching post.
I held my arm trying to remember when I had scratched it, but I couldn’t. “I don’t remember.”
“And your appetite? Have you been eating?”
“No appetite, but that’s not unusual with the pain meds I’m on right now.” I took deep breaths as he moved the stethoscope to my back.
“Were you short of breath?” he asked, and I leaned forward so he could assess my back with his hands, feeling for who knows what.
“Yes, I was.”
Doctor Cooper sat at the end of the bed, his hand resting on my leg. “You were going into kidney failure.”
Here we go. This was the beginning of the end. First my kidneys would fail, then all my other vital organs would follow. They would
promise I was at the top of the list for organ donation, but the chances of getting what I needed to live would be very slim. In the end, my weak heart would simply shut down.
Wait, did he say were?
“Cooper—did you say my kidneys were failing? As in, they no longer are?” My voice cracked with confusion.
Linda sat up straight in the maroon guest chair, her book covering what little bit of shorts she had on.
“Yes, that’s right. It seems as if they were beginning to fail but thought better of it. We can’t really explain how, or why, but we’re hoping this is the Formalthinaxin working. Or maybe some kind of spontaneous remission,” he said with a smile, tapping my leg before he stood back up.
“We want you to stay overnight just to be sure, but you should be able to go home in the morning. You know the drill, use the call button if you need anything. Got it, kiddo?”
I avoided telling him that I had stopped taking my Formalthinaxin. Could it really be spontaneous remission? I remembered reading about that once—that somehow, without rhyme or reason, there was an unexpected improvement in one’s rapidly declining health. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
“Yes, thank you, Cooper.”
After Doctor Cooper left the room, Linda crawled into the bed next to me, maneuvering all the cords so she could comfortably lay down.
“You scared me today,” she said, nuzzling her head into my neck.
“You promised no more hospitals.”
“I think it’s going to snow soon.” She changed the subject.
“I’m not ready for snow,” I said.
“C’mon, snow is magical.”
“It’s cold and wet. Nothing magical about that,” I argued.
“I have the perfect story that will prove just how magical snow really is—”
“Tyler asked me to kiss him,” I blurted out, interrupting her.
Linda gasped. “No, he didn’t! Oh, my word, tell me everything!”
“It was a total lapse in judgment brought on by Truth or Dare that’s all,” I assured her.
“I can’t believe it didn’t happened sooner. I always wondered if you guys were secretly making out when he would sneak into your bedroom in the middle of the night.”
“Linda!” I protested.
“What? You guys didn’t actually think you were pulling one over on me, did you? If I had a dollar for every time I walked into your bedroom and saw Tyler’s feet hanging off the end of the bed, I could pay off all our bills.”
“He’s like my brother.” My cheeks flushed.
“He is most definitely NOT your brother, Swayzi Solasta.”
It never occurred to me that Tyler might feel more for me. Maybe he was confusing his worry for me with attraction. There was no handbook for having a dying best friend.
“Do you think I’m too scared to live my life?”
“Society is too focused on future goals and bucket lists. But Swayzi, the universe doesn’t care if you went skydiving, if you learned how to play the guitar, or if you got a tattoo,” she teased, kicking my ankle where Tinker Bell rested, smiling as usual. “This is you living life, every moment of every single day. Make the most of it.”
“Thank you, Mom.” I hugged her, wiping my sudden tears on her tie-dye shirt. I didn’t care that me calling her mom bugged her, sometimes we both needed to hear it.
“You think too much, Baby.” She kissed my forehead. “Be happy.”
“You know what would make me happy?” My stomach was grumbling. “Spaghetti and meatball pizza from Joe’s. But make sure the meatballs—”
“Are on top of the cheese, got it,” she finished for me. Linda sat up, rubbing my leg. “The power company said they’ll turn the power back on when I pay the bill tomorrow, don’t worry.” She stood up, her shorts almost showing her bottom.
“So”—she pulled on her glasses tangled in her hair, put them on and looked down at the palm of her hand where she had a long list—“spaghetti and meatball pizza, your purple pillow, trashy magazines, The Notebook DVD—I could use a good cry tonight. Cheetos, who doesn’t need chemical cheese puff? Refrigerator contents—can’t let good food go to waste.” She took the pen from her pocket and began adding to her list. “I need you to finish my crossword puzzle from the paper this morning because I can’t, and it’s driving me crazy. Anything else?”
As Linda rambled on, Tyler cleared his throat before entering the room and standing behind her. He leaned against the doorframe, waiting patiently for her to finish. My heart sank wondering how long he had been standing there. Normally I could hear his cowboy boots tapping down the hallway, but today he wore flip flops. The last thing I needed was for him to have overheard our conversation.
“Sounds about right,” I confirmed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, looking from me to Tyler and then back to me, her eyes bulging.
“I’ll be here,” I said, motioning to all the attached tubes.
The silence that followed Linda’s chaotic wake was far too long.
“How you feeling, Sway?” Tyler finally asked with his arms still crossed. His feet lingered slightly in the hallway, almost like he was afraid to enter.
If I had to guess, he heard our conversation.
“I haven’t felt this good since…” I thought about it for a moment and couldn’t believe my answer. “Since, before summer.”
“I’m glad.” His halfhearted smile and broken eyes revealed that he didn’t believe me.
“I wonder how long it will take before you can answer your phone without being afraid?” My eyes lingered on his.
“As long as you are still around? Never.”
I looked down, adjusting my hospital gown and blankets, unsure of what to say. “You staying for Cheetos and The Notebook?” I finally asked.
“I have swim practice tonight. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m okay,” I said, my eyes meeting his.
He stood upright, his hand ruffling the hair in front of his eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked him, feeling the chill between us.
“You know me, I’m always okay.” He tapped the door frame looking back once more, “See you around, Sway.” His words were cold and distant.
The hospital pillow crinkled when I fell back, shaking my head, wishing I had asked him to stay longer. I wanted to put this tension to rest. Tyler and I used to have full conversations without even having to talk. Now I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but that wasn’t what was bothering me.
A normal seventeen-year-old girl would want to know why her best friend was suddenly so cold. A not-so-normal seventeen-year-old girl, given only two months to live, would be wondering why her kidneys suddenly decided not to fail.
But I wasn’t thinking of either of those things.
Despite my concern for Tyler’s mood, all I could think about was the boy from the dock, and that insane electric current that pulsed through my whole body when he touched me—a feeling too strong not to be real. Why did it seem like I was the only one who could see him? Surely, Linda would have brought him up had she seen him. Even more confusing was how remarkably at ease I felt in his presence, as if there was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t imagine what that might be.
I spent the next few days at the café. It was located on Sawyer Avenue, one of Rowan’s busiest tourist streets due to the cruise ship docks only a few blocks away. The café had a deep red exterior with three wicker tables out front, all which were being used on the sunny fall day.
Linda started the café when I was two years old using the money she inherited from her parents passing. Despite people’s warnings that it would tank, she created a very successful business all while raising me alone.
Growing up, I spent more time at COFFEE than I did at my own home. I would play with toys behind the counter, learned how to read on the orange sofa, and ate the majority of my meals sitting on the stainless-steel kitchen counter. Eventually, when I was old
enough, Linda let me take orders and organize cups, but only if I was healthy enough to do so.
COFFEE had Linda’s signature all over it. Her bohemian style was sprinkled everywhere; not one piece of furniture matched, yet somehow everything fit. From the floral pillows on the sofas to the brightly painted chairs surrounding different sized tables, it was eccentric but still trendy and cool.
One exposed brick wall featured three large book shelves that held all types of books. Linda had a good faith policy. Hanging from one of the shelves was a sign that read, “Choose a book, have a look. When you’re done, leave it for the next one”.
The other wall contained a floor to ceiling chalkboard that anyone could write on. There were a few “E.M. was here” type notes from some of the tourists. Others wrote their favorite quotes, one of my favorites being, “You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it. – Margaret Thatcher.”
I could sit for hours and read that wall and never get bored. There were many memories connected to it from countless people over the years; it always reminded me of how big the world really was.
The order counter was long with menus hanging above it and fresh baked goods made by Tosh waiting behind the glass. The large cappuccino machine was loud but always made the café smell delicious.
Each time I visited, I would help myself to a cup of coffee and spend hours curled up on the orange sofa that was placed in the middle of the café. I mostly people watched, especially Linda when she wasn’t looking. I would stare at her, trying to memorize every detail of her—the way her hair looked different every day, the way her glasses hung down when she took orders from customers, and the freckles that bunched on the tip her nose. I touched the same freckles on my nose and smiled—the only physical trait I got from her.
The café was slow, so I decided to venture around historic downtown Rowan, stopping at the thrift store to get a new outfit. I dropped in at the flower shop to say hi to Mrs. Thorp, so she could catch me up on the soaps I had missed since being out of the hospital. The book store next to the café was dusty but smelled like history, and I took a deep breath, relishing in my new ability to finally catch my breath without the help of a machine.
Empress Unveiled Page 4
