CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ice clicked against my teeth as I swallowed the last bit of water in my cup. The cold water did nothing to squelch the warmth inside my body. I could still feel the heat of Aaron's gaze, the weight of his words, even now hours later after my walk home through the cold. Christopher had pulled me out of Z15 and away from Aaron sooner than I wanted, though now I knew it was for the best.
I would have done something I regretted. Though even as I thought the words they felt like a lie. The only regret I had now, was that I'd been pulled away when I had. That I hadn't been able to stay with Aaron. I realized now that I never wanted to leave his presence. He consumed me, all of me, like I was some sort of first meal for a starving victim. I wanted to run my hands all over him, to feel the ink all over his body. I wanted to memorize the words with my hands, with my eyes. I needed to learn him, understand him. I—
"Do you like this show?" Richard's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Hmmm?" I glanced over at him. He sat on the other side of my couch, just feet away. His long body stretched out comfortably.
He'd found me just as I was packing up my stuff for the day, right in the middle of debating whether or not I should see Aaron before I left. My skin had still been flushed, my clothes feeling too warm from my earlier encounter cut short. Richard had stood in the doorframe of my office, his deep blue eyes kind and friendly. When he asked if I wanted to hang out since we were both off, I'd found myself in a precarious predicament. He'd asked me to hang out several times over the last few months, and I'd always turned him down. I didn't have time to hang out with him or anyone else. I was too busy.
Yeah, too busy obsessing over Aaron Whitman.
My own thoughts had won out and convinced me to have Richard over. I knew I stood before something potentially disastrous for my life. I teetered on the edge of a career-crushing decision. Really, I'd already gone too far, with the way I watched him each night, but I didn't acknowledge that, not outright.
"It's one of my favorites. It's pretty messed up, but good, for sure."
I blinked at the television.
"Adeline?"
"Yes?" I glanced back at him.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm fine." I shrugged and smiled. "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little tired."
He nodded and smiled back at me. Richard was someone special, he was one of those people who never seemed to meet a stranger. It was like we'd known each other forever. I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable around him. He was a nice presence to have at work. I couldn't deny that, but I already wanted him to leave so I could get lost in my thoughts about Aaron. So I could pick apart every single word he spoke in our session today and visit him in our safe place: the surveillance room.
"I can understand that. This place is something else." He gestured in the direction of the hospital.
"Yeah." I nodded slowly. "How did you end up here?" I realized now that most of the conversations we'd had were about me mostly, I'd never really asked him anything about himself.
"Oh, you know, the way it typically happens. I did some certificate training after I got my associate's degree, and got registered to be a nursing aide, then about a year ago I got offered this job." He shrugged. "Way better pay than back home in Texas."
I titled my head in surprise. "You're from Texas? How did I not know that?" I pressed my hand against my chest. "I'm from Texas too."
He chuckled. "I know that."
"What part?"
"East Texas, the Tyler area."
"Really? That's just a few hours from where I grew up. In fact my dad grew up around that area."
"I know." He adjusted his feet but didn't stop smiling.
"Wow," I said, "You're proving just how terrible of a coworker I am!" I chuckled and covered my mouth with my hand.
"Nah," he sat up, "You're not terrible, Adeline. You're just busy and overworked. I get it." He paused. "Plus, I'm a good listener."
"Yeah, and apparently, I'm just a sucky one, even though my degree should mean different." That was my job to listen, to translate words into reality. "Maybe you should be the psychiatrist." I snorted.
"Well, you do have to listen to those crazies in Ward Z. I think it's safe to say that you get a free pass when you have to listen to those people all the time." He stroked his hand over his short beard. "I'm not sure how you do it, honestly. The brief weekly interaction I have with each of them is taxing enough as it is. I don't think I could spend hours a day with them." He shook head. "Especially Z01, that cannibal guy? I mean, what the actual fuck? Who does shit like that?"
I rubbed my arms and leaned back against the couch. "Yeah, well, believe it or not he's the easy one. He hasn't had any episodes, at least not since I've been here. He is perfectly pleasant every time I meet with him. You'd never know he had multiple personalities based on the conversations we've had." I glanced toward the TV. "The other day we talked about football." I smiled at the thought of it. I'd grown to enjoy visiting with Raymond. He sat across from me with his long gray beard, the scraggly hair poking out from the muzzle he had to wear, and spoke with me about mostly normal things, we had conversations about fishing and go-carts. We talked about TV some, though not much. It had been decades since he'd been able to watch a television show. I'd made an effort to see about getting televisions in some of the rooms, but Christopher shut that idea down quick with a story of televisions and an orderly hung from the raptors by unsecure cords.
"Really? He never says anything while we're in there cleaning up. Then again I guess you know that since you're in there with us." Richard smiled bashfully and ran a hand over his short hair. His teeth were just slightly crooked, not in the gaping, missing teeth, sort of way that Christopher's were, but in an attractive way, so that they added to his charm. "Does Patricia ever say anything when you meet with her?"
Little Patricia flashed into my head with her limp, strawberry blond hair hanging around her face. Visiting her saddened me more than any other patient. I couldn't decide why, though it was probably because she was a child, of which my formal training hadn't exactly prepared me for. I knew how to talk to an adult, especially a grown adult male, but a child who had suffered more debilitating trauma than I could even imagine? I didn't even know where to begin.
"No." I picked a piece of lint off my lap. "Not at all. I was hopeful in the beginning." I'd been all set on what I planned to do with her. I took her off her medication and planned to just talk to her about the world, flowers, everything that she deserved to experience. "But things haven't really changed. She seems more restless now that she isn't on all those downers, but otherwise no. Nothing."
"That bothers you?"
I met Richard's gaze and found compassion there.
I sighed. "Yeah. She's harder for me to treat."
"Why do you think that is?"
I shrugged. "I guess it's easy to treat an adult because they're just that. A person who grew up and made decisions based on a mental illness they acquired or were born with, that landed them here. But Patricia is different from that. She's a child who had those choices taken away from her, by her own family. It's just…sad."
"Well you do a great job, you know that, right?"
I glanced up from where I fumbled with my fingers in my lap. "Thank you." The words were a whisper on my lips—and for good reason. Richard's praise, while he might have believed it, I knew it was all a lie. Actual regret slammed into me, not the phony regret I felt earlier. I'd been fanaticizing about my patient for months. I touched myself while thinking about him – not just once – many times.
You're fucked up Adeline.
"Hey," Richard got up and sat next to me on the couch. "I'm sorry I brought up work." He put his arm around my shoulders. "I came over to hangout so we could do something besides work, and here we are talking about it."
This close, with his big body pressed against mine, I could feel his warmth, and smell the last remnants of cologne he had put on this morning and something else – whiskey. Like he'd taken a shot before coming over to my place. Familiar. I sucked in deep, breathing it all in, and when I exhaled I felt better. He squeezed my shoulder one last time before moving his arm to grab the remote. He moved away, but not as far as before. He played the show he'd been talking about. I watched it with him. I listened as he laughed at the jokes. His laugh was deep, like it came from the very bottom of his stomach. I hadn't heard someone laugh like that quite sometime. It was nice.
Whenever he looked at me expectantly, I would chuckle for good measure, just so he didn't think I was bored. However, truthfully my mind was far away from the television show, and far away from Richard. My thoughts circulated around one person. He sat just a couple hundred yards away in a stale white room inside Ward Z. I imagined him lying in bed, humming his song, tapping its rhythm. The white sheet would dip with the pressure of each fingertip, creating tiny creases that would fan out around the pad of his finger.
"What'd you think?"
"Huh?"
Richard smiled at me.
Aaron's fingers would quicken with the rhythm he hummed, sometimes faster, sometimes slower depending on his mood.
"The show. Did you like it?"
I could hear it. His humming. It filled my head.
He's here.
I jumped up off the couch and whirled around, but no one was there. Richard stared up at me expectantly. He grabbed the remote. The sound stopped.
I lunged and grabbed it from his hand.
"What going on, Adeline?"
"The song!" My hands fumbled with the remote like I'd never held one before.
Richard frowned and scratched his head. "What song? What are you talking about?"
My finger finally found the play button and I pressed hard on the volume button until the music filled the house. "His song!" It surrounded us. The lulling piano music, the drums, they filled my ears. Emotion threatened to bubble out of me.
"Whose song?"
I shook my head and moved closer to the TV. The temptation to wrap my arms around the monitor filled me, but I settled for running my fingers against the screen as the credits passed.
"I have to go see him." I rushed to my bedroom and started ruffling through my things. I had an iPod. It had been forever since I'd used it, but I had one and more than that - I had it. The song. I knew. I'd known it all along, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"See who? Aaron Whitman?"
The sound of Aaron's name on Richard's lips left a queasy feeling in my stomach.
"Yes." I moved around where he stood, toward my closet.
"Can't it wait until your next session with him?" There was something else in Richard's voice. It wasn't calming and kind like everything else he said.
"No, of course it can't wait." I dug through my closet looking for the small box of belongings I'd brought over from the main hospital.
"It's almost midnight, Adeline."
"Yes!" I exclaimed as my hand closed around the little rectangular electronic. "Found it!" I held it up proudly. "I figured it out!"
Richard sighed, and I met his blue gaze. They held the weirdest strand of disappointment. I couldn't understand it.
I cleared my throat and looked down at my feet. "This is a big breakthrough for Aaron's treatment. It's important, Richard."
Liar.
"So important that you go see a patient in the middle of the night? That seems…" He let his voice trail off before rubbing the back of his head again. "Sorry, Adeline." I could feel the genuine meaning behind the words. "You're the doc around here. You know what's best. I just know how that guy can be. Drove the last psychiatrist out of his mind – literally." He chuckled dryly, but no smile met his lips. "I just don't want to see that happen to you."
I patted Richard on the arm, feeling slightly guilty that I'd been distant and distracted all night. "Thanks for coming over and hanging out with me. It was nice to have company after being alone for so long."
I didn't wait around to hear Richard's response though. With my iPod clasped tightly in my hand I made a beeline for the front door – toward where I'd wanted to be all evening.
Room Z15.