I grabbed a plate of food and headed back to my room with it. I set the plate on my nightstand and flopped down on my bed. My phone rang. Visitor days, holidays and birthdays were the days when they allowed us phone privileges. The rooms were equipped with an intercom to the nurse’s station and a red button to push for emergencies, but that was it. I guess they figured, for most of us, family and relationship issues were at the heart of a lot of our problems and addictions. No phones helped control possible problems.
It was my dad. I considered not answering it for the first three rings and then picked it up.
“Hey, Dad.”
There was a pause. “How are you, Tommy?”
“I’m good. What’s new out on the sunny west coast?”
“Not too much. Your sisters both came into town with their families. A little reunion of sorts.” A reunion that of course didn’t include me, the black ink spot on the sparkling Jameson family. My two sisters, Katherine and Marilyn, were older than me. They’d been close with each other growing up, and they’d both been the shining examples of kids that my dad had expected, honor students, college graduates and married to even more shining examples of spouses. Although, I personally thought Marilyn’s husband, Raymond, was a creep. But he made big money and they lived in a giant house in Texas. So, he was all right in my dad’s eyes.
“Everyone doing all right?” I asked. This was our usual conversation. Shallow shit that I really couldn’t care less about. While Kirkendall liked to dig deep, my dad and I liked to stay above the surface, where the waters were smooth, non-committal. I cared that everyone was well and happy, but I didn’t have much interest in their lives. Just as my sisters had sort of written me off too. Katherine had worried for a long while about me and had spent a good amount of time trying, in her own way, to lead me on a better path with sisterly advice. But most of it had fallen on deaf ears. After a point, she’d given up on me. About the same time I’d given up on myself.
“Great. Everyone is great. Kyle and Jenny are growing tall.” Silence dropped in between us as if that was it. We’d covered sisters and grandkids, and now, we were without a topic. He cleared his throat. “Listen, Tommy, I’m sorry that I didn’t get out there for visitor’s day.” My dad sounding contrite happened about as often as a snowstorm in Los Angeles.
“No problem. I didn’t expect it, so nothing to be sorry about.” As hard as I tried to keep the edge of anger from my tone, it came out anyhow.
“Tom, really, I had meant to come out. I had the ticket and everything, but I had this little episode.”
“Episode? What do you mean?”
“It turned out to be nothing. I’m fine.”
“Dad, what fucking episode?”
“Some unexplained weakness on my right side. Doctors thought it might be my heart, but I had tests and everything is still ticking inside.” He chuckled, but I could tell it had him worried.
“But everything is all right?” This time, I couldn’t keep the worry from my tone and that’s when it hit me. I was worried. My dad and I had been battling each other for years, always straining to get along to the point that sometimes I’d convinced myself that I hated the man. But then he brought up his episode, and doctors and his heart, and it scared the shit out of me.
“It’s all good, Tommy.” He was silent again, and my heart raced, afraid that he might drop another bomb on me. “We just need to focus on getting you well and home, son. We need to straighten out all these problems. I won’t be around forever.” I won’t be around forever. The words circled my head. They were words every parent or grandparent told the kids, just to remind them that death waited for everyone.
“I’m working on it, Dad. I’m working on getting my head straight.” This time it was my half-sad chuckle bouncing through the phone. “It’s pretty twisted up, though. I managed to tangle myself up pretty good.”
“I take some blame for that.” Contrite twice in the same conversation. That episode had really nailed my old man to the wall. “I needed to listen more when you needed me to pay attention. I was just always so preoccupied with business and . . . ” He paused. “No, I won’t give excuses. I need to stop the excuses. I’ve been seeing a therapist too.” This was turning out to be one hell of a phone call.
“Yeah? That’s good, I guess.”
“Listen, Tommy, I’ve got a call on the other line. I’ll be out there to visit next time. Get your head clear and start thinking about a future.” I knew he meant a future with his company, but I ignored that for now. His tone was different, and I hadn’t minded talking to him for these last few seconds. Something that was rare. I wasn’t going to let his final reminder that I had no real future at the moment ruin that.
“Take care of yourself, Dad. Give Mom a kiss for me. Bye.” I stared at the phone for a moment. He’d had one of those scares that made you suddenly realize that your time on Earth is finite. And from the way he was talking, it’d kicked him hard enough in the ass to make him rethink some things. Don’t pull a Kirkendall and over think this, I reminded myself. Once the shock of his health scare waned, he’d be right back to his old self.
My food was cold now. I picked up the plate. What I needed more than anything was a smoke. I returned my untouched plate to the dining room and stepped out into the yard. A wispy carpet of clouds had drifted in, blotting out some of the sun but managing to trap the moist heat left behind from the morning.
Jayleen was sitting with her parents under the shade of the mulberry, and Harold was on his usual bench with an older woman, a sister maybe or a girlfriend. He’d told me he had never gotten married or had kids. Sugar sat with her mother on the bench near the garden. Her mother’s hair was dark coffee brown and she’d stuck on big round sunglasses. Sugar had her arms crossed, and her shoulders looked small as if she was curling them into a sulky posture. She was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see her face, which was probably good because I hated seeing Sugar upset.
I headed out to my rubber mat island. As expected, it was empty of visitors. There was a small retaining wall on one side to keep the grass and the rubber separate. I leaned against it and lit my cigarette. Jayleen and her family had given up on the humid heat and walked inside. Harold and his friend remained deep in conversation, and Sugar and her mom seemed to have stopped talking. Or, at least, Sugar seemed to have taken herself out of the chat. She was leaning against the back of the bench staring absently around the yard as her mom held up her end of the visit by talking.
I wondered, briefly, what Julian was up to alone in his room. I knew that when he wasn’t in the mood to talk, there was no way to jolly him into a conversation. He would snap out of his funk eventually.
I looked over at Sugar again. She looked miserable. She hadn’t looked my direction once, and I wasn’t completely sure she knew I was outside.
The paper-thin clouds had thickened into a stormy looking sky. The wind had picked up, and the tang of electricity filled the air. A summer thunderstorm seemed inevitable.
From the angle I sat, I could see into the parking lot. It was filled today because of all the visitors, but I could see Frank standing near his yellow car talking on his cell phone. Just as I noticed him, he seemed to notice me as well. He turned away from me as if I could read lips or as if I was the slightest bit interested in his conversation. He looked like the kind of guy who people stayed friends with just because they were too afraid not to. And Jayleen thought I looked menacing. The guy looked as if he could throw a fist through a brick wall and then eat the broken chunks for lunch. He finished his call and swiped his card through the security box on the gate. He headed my direction.
I put the cigarette to my mouth and watched him lumber across the yard.
He stopped a few feet away and stared at me. “Put out the smoke, now.” If we’d been standing in a bar or at a football game, the cloud of tension han
ging between us would have morphed into a full on fist fight. But he was one of those guys who wouldn’t even be worth the trouble of a brawl. One thing was definite— Julian sure as hell was right about the guy.
“Yep.” I took another slow hit before extinguishing the cigarette on the wall.
He continued to watch me, his scarred chin jutting just enough to try and coax me to hit him.
“Anything else?” I asked. The first crack of thunder broke the silence of the yard.
He turned and walked away without answering. Sugar’s mom stood from the bench, but Sugar remained sitting, crossed arms and all. Her mom struggled across the lawn in her spiky heels. She said something to Frank. He turned and walked her to the gate to let her out.
Frank walked toward Sugar, but she jumped up from the bench and strode past him as if he was invisible. He watched for a second as she walked toward me. Then he turned and headed back to the building.
Drops of warm rain pelted my head. Sugar’s face was turned down. Then she lifted it and looked at me across the yard. Her walk turned to a run. I didn’t see the tears until she was right in front of me. Without a word, she pressed herself against me. My arms went around her.
“Anything you need to talk about?” My words were nearly drowned out by the heavy drops plinking off the rubber mats.
She shook her head without pulling her face away from my chest. “Nope. This is all I need, the rain and the thunder and your arms and everything will be fine.”
I tightened my hold on her. Group sessions, one-on-one therapy, prescription drugs, half-hearted apologies from my dad—fuck them all. All I needed to make things right was the girl tucked inside my arms.
Chapter 12
It had been a quiet night, nothing on television and most everyone had gone to bed early. At the suggestion of the board, Nurse Greene, Dr. Kirkendall and a few ward assistants had switched positions with the night crew for a week, to give them a break. They were the nurse and doctor on call for the evening. The night shift was crappy for the sole reason that you had to be up all night and try and sleep in the daytime when the rest of the world was wide awake. Dr. Kirkendall had had dark rings under her eyes for the first few days. She’d told me switching to sleeping during the day had been nothing short of torture, and she now had an even greater respect for the night staff. Of course, the night staff didn’t have the same amount of stress because most of the residents slept through the night, and there just wasn’t that much to do except be ready in case of emergency.
There was a light knock on my door. Sugar was standing in the hallway in her shorts and t-shirt. Her hair was swept up in one of those hasty knots at the back of her head. Loose strands of chocolate brown hair framed her incredible face.
She smiled. “I was bored.” She swept past me into the room. The faint fragrance of soap and Sugar’s own natural sweetness drifted toward me.
“So I’m your go-to activity when you’re bored?”
“Something like that. It was either go see Tommy or braid another lock of hair, but the last time I did that it wasn’t appreciated by the recipient.”
“I appreciated it,” I said coolly, thinking about the fact that I’d been carrying it around with me since the day she’d given it to me. But she didn’t need to know that. Sugar already knew how I felt about her. “I just didn’t know girls did that anymore, you know, give locks of hair.”
“That’s why romance was better in the nineteenth century,” she stated confidently. “Girls could express their admiration for a suitor with a braid of hair instead of wrapping their lips around his cock.”
I laughed. “Whoa, that sentence did not end the way I expected it to. Nice example, and let me just say, as a twenty-first century man, I’m happy with the way things have progressed.”
“Give me that lock of hair back then. I know you’ve got it in your pocket.” She lunged at me. I took hold of both her arms before she could reach for my pocket. She laughed as she struggled to free herself from my grip. Holding both her arms, I backed her up against the door. She was trapped between me and the door and every fiber, every fucking cell in my body and brain told me to kiss her. Just do it, Tommy. It’s something you’ve wanted to do from the first second Sugar walked up and introduced herself.
Sugar stopped laughing. The glint of mischief in her blue eyes softened, and her breaths came faster. I dropped my gaze to her pink lips. They were plump and moist and they were calling to me, begging for me to kiss them. I lowered my face to hers, convinced that this was dangerous and yet knowing that my willpower was cracking. A knock at the door startled both of us and shattered the heated tension.
I motioned for Sugar to step out of view. There was no hard and fast rule about visiting each other’s rooms, but since everyone, including the damn bathing birds, knew how I felt about Sugar, it was probably better if people didn’t know she was in my room alone. I cracked open the door. It was Dr. Kirkendall. She looked pale and tired and more disheveled than usual. The night shift was obviously not her thing.
“Tommy, sorry to bother you, have you talked to Julian tonight?”
I peered through the opening at her but didn’t let her in. “Uh, no, I saw him around lunch time but then he took to his room. He’s been in sort of a dark mood lately. Doesn’t like to talk when he’s like that.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know. We’ve been delving into some stuff, and it has him a little rattled.” She took a deep breath and forced a smiled. “But it’s good. He’s moving forward,” she said the words to me, but they seemed more for her own reassurance.
“Why were you asking?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just that Dr. Hartfield left a note that Julian didn’t show for his last two sessions with her this week.”
“Maybe he only likes to talk to you. This switch in shifts looks like it’s been hard on all of you.” I looked pointedly at her. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Doc. You look like shit.”
Sugar snickered next to me, then quickly covered her mouth.
Dr. Kirkendall grinned. “Yes, I have mirrors at home. I agree. At the time, this seemed like a good idea. I’m realizing now that it wasn’t the best plan.”
“I’ll go over and see if Julian is up for a visit,” I said.
“That would be great. Let me know if you talk to him.” She left and I closed the door.
“I’ll come with you,” Sugar suggested. “Let’s go by the kitchen first. We can pop up a bag of popcorn and take it to him. He likes popcorn.”
I poked my head out the door. The hallway was deserted. We walked out of my room and headed toward the kitchen. Frank was in the dining room leaning against his mop texting someone on his cell phone.
His eyes rounded as he heard us step into the room. He looked equally shocked and pissed. He quickly shoved the phone into his pocket. “Kitchen is closed,” he barked. Just like Kirkendall, he looked off from having to work the late shift. But he looked jumpy instead of bone tired.
“Dr. Kirkendall knows we’re here,” I lied, but figured in a roundabout way it was the truth. “We’ll be out of here in a second.”
The mop looked like a toothpick in his massive hand as he gripped it angrily. “Hurry up.” His eyes seemed to deepen in his face as he watched us cross the room with light steps, making sure not to walk where he’d already mopped. For a ward assistant, they’d handed him a lot of the maintenance crew’s duties. It was kind of weird and confusing.
Sugar seemed to sense that something was up with him too. She reached discretely for my hand as we hurried into the kitchen, a gesture that made me smile. She flicked on the light and went to the snack cupboard. It was the only cupboard not locked and available to the residents. It had definitely come in handy for midnight snack runs.
“What the heck was that about?” Sugar asked as she reac
hed for a popcorn package. The near kiss had been forgotten . . . for the moment. It was probably for the best. And there was that stupid damn phrase again. What a meaningless phrase it was.
“Don’t know but Jules sure had that guy pegged from the start.” I followed her to the microwave.
She stuck in the package and turned on the microwave. She leaned back against the counter. “I hope Julian is all right. He’s been so out of it lately. I went in to talk to him about my mom’s visit, but I could tell he was tuning me out completely.” Her lip tilted up “Even more than usual.”
“You went to talk to him about the visit?”
She reached forward and brushed her fingers along my arm, knowing full well that every time she touched me, it was a huge deal. Or maybe she didn’t know it. Sometimes it was hard to know if she did stuff intentionally or if she was just being Sugar. “What’s that hurt expression for, Tommy? You know I talk to Julian about my personal stuff all the time. You do it too.”
She pushed off the counter and pressed herself against me. This time she knew exactly what she was doing. “I was upset about my mom’s visit.” Her long hard body pushed against me, and she ran her fingers over the black stubble on my jaw. “I headed straight into your arms that day, remember?”
My pulse thrummed from having her so near, ridiculously near, but this time I kept my hands balled at my sides. “No fucking way I could forget that, Sugar. No fucking way.”
She stepped back. I sucked in the breath that had been lodged in my chest.
“I go to Julian sometimes to discuss things, talk things out. He’s a good listener— when he’s in the right frame of mind.” She stopped and glanced down at the floor before lifting her gaze to mine again. “But when I’m really upset or down,” she said, “it’s you I want to be near. Even if you’re in a bad mood,” she continued, a faint smile crossing her face, “which you often are, I want to be near you. Even if it’s just standing in the same room or sitting on the same couch or sitting next to you on the swings, I want to be there. You don’t do it consciously, and this sounds weird, but it’s like when you’re there, you absorb all the coldness, the sadness, like you were put here just for that, to take away some of the ugliness. Like I ended up here at Green Willow just to be near you.” She blinked up at me. It took me second to convince myself that I wasn’t imagining this whole damn moment.