CHAPTER 32
Dear Budget Airline,
I am writing this letter to inform you of my disappointment. I have not flown in many years and I must say, I was appalled at my experience with your airline. The lack of respect and basic humanity exhibited by your staff was atrocious. When I say I need to be somewhere, I need to be somewhere. You may be willing to delay a plane, but life cannot be delayed. It cannot.
Please excuse my tone. If you have children, you will understand.
Sincerely,
Nina Osborne
That night, I sleep in the chair and then move to the floor. A TV plays CNN news coverage over my head all night. Kerry stops trying to insist I go back to camp. Instead, he brings me a blanket from one of the nurses. He stays, too, sleeping in a chair with his arms folded over his chest and legs extended out.
In the morning, it takes a minute for me to remember where I am. Then I think I’m seeing a mirage—a long, beautiful, gangly mirage with a fat, squat, round one standing next to him.
I sit up straight as Grover walks over and kneels down next to me.
“I love watching you wake up.”
I throw my arms around him and knock him over. Grover doesn’t pull back because we’re in public; he holds me tighter. He holds me the tightest he ever has.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t watching her.”
I ignore his words and press myself to him. I put my nose into his chest and breathe in. Grover smells like camp.
“I knew it,” Kerry groans as he wakes up in his chair. When Grover puts up his finger to say something, Kerry stops him. “Save it. It’s early and you’re off camp property.”
“Well, in that case . . .” Grover leans in and kisses me. The kiss is quick and light, but enough to wake me up more than the three cups of coffee I had yesterday.
Bek plops down in one of the waiting room seats. “Mon amour. Comment va-t-elle?”
“She’s okay,” I tell him. “Well, not okay, but okay for now.”
“Bek got Madison to bring us here,” Grover whispers to me. “He went on a hunger strike.”
“Bek refused food?”
Grover nods. “He said he was lovesick, which according to Bek causes pain, nausea, occasional vomiting, and a lawsuit brought on by his dad, who’s the mayor of Toronto. And then he demanded we get taken to the hospital to find a cure. Madison conceded and said it must have taken a lot of perseverance for a kid like Bek to refuse food.”
I glance at Bek, who’s staring at the ceiling, his foot tapping on the ground.
It takes a few hours before they’ll let us go back and see her. When we finally get to her room, Cassie is staring out the window.
The restraints are gone today. I’m thankful Grover and Bek didn’t see them. Bek sits on the end of the bed as Cassie looks at us with a shocked face. She clearly wasn’t expecting all of us. Bek touches her feet, which are covered up by a few layers of blankets. Even covered, Cassie looks cold.
“Well, Sticks, that was quite a performance. Not quite what I expected, but you’ve always kept me on my toes, which is what I love about you,” Grover says. He emphasizes the end part. The love part.
Bek hiccups as he sits crying at the end of the bed. He bends down and kisses Cassie’s feet over and over.
“Mon amour. Mon amour. Mon amour,” he repeats.
Cassie’s face paints in horror, but she doesn’t move. Grover touches her hand. “You can’t lie about love,” he says. He inspects her nails. “Nice color, by the way. Totally you.”
I smile at her, and in the most beautiful way possible, Cassie smiles back.
At the end of our time, I ask the boys to give me a minute.
“I’ll see you soon, Sticks,” Grover says to Cassie. “Now you say it back.”
“I’ll see you soon, Cleve.”
“That’s a promise,” he says.
“That’s a promise,” Cassie says. He exhales a large breath, and he and Bek leave the room.
I pull up my seat next to her bed. I’ll gladly give it back to the doctor if he can promise Cassie never has to come here again.
“Why did you lie to me about your aunt?”
Cassie looks off at the window. “Because it isn’t your problem.”
“Like hell it isn’t my problem.” My voice rises.
Her eyes come back to me. “What are you going to do, Z? Erase my past? Change it? The past may be gone, but it’s firmly in place. You can’t do anything about it.”
“I could have at least listened.”
“Listening does nothing.”
“Stop acting like you’re alone,” I yell and stand up, the tears starting again. “You’re not alone. You made me need you! You made me love you! And now I need you to tell me you won’t give up again. Even if it hurts like hell. You can’t give up. I won’t let you take that away from me.”
Cassie looks at me wide-eyed as I plop back down in the seat.
“God, Z, you’re selfish.” And then she places her hand on top of mine. “You need me?” I nod over and over, tears falling on my shirt. “I’ve never been needed before.”
“Well, get used to it,” I say.
“Hey, Z?”
“What?”
“Clearly you’re not over your lesbian phase. I hope Cleve knows.”
I nod, wiping a tear from my cheek, and smile. “He’s kind of excited about it.”
Cassie laughs again and the room brightens.
Before I walk out, I turn back to Cassie and repeat the words she said to Dori just a few weeks ago. “I can’t believe you tried to kill yourself with pills. What a sissy fucking suicide.”
Cassie smiles. “Thanks, Z.”
The waiting room smells different when I get there. I breathe in again. Rose perfume. My eyes scatter through the people around me. Grover and Bek sit watching the TV.
And then I find the source of the smell. I gasp and yell at the same time. It’s my mom.