Chapter Fifteen
None of the Above
Jessica
“If you’re that worried about it,” Kristin says, “call him. If you would have told me that he was there, I would have walked over there myself and we would have figured something out.”
“How’s Mom doing?” I ask.
“She’s going to be laid up for a while,” Kristin says. “They took out cartilage from a few of her joints, and they’re going to be taking her in for a scan later today to see if they got it all.”
“How could they not be sure about something like that?” I ask, trying and failing to unlock my phone’s lock screen.
“They’re just being cautious,” Kristin says. “How much did you drink? You know both Mom and Dad are going to flip the fuck out if they know you’re already drunk.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
“Get your shit together, will you?” she asks. “You’re supposed to be the reasonable one and I’m supposed to be the drunken idiot.”
“How do you suggest I do that?” I ask. “‘Get my shit together.’”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe dial down the drinking, for starters. You’re not a heavyweight, so stop trying to act like one. And what the hell is going on with you and Eric?”
“I have no idea,” I tell her, and finally manage to unlock my phone. I find Eric’s number and call it.
“You just left,” he says, answering the phone. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I kind of got in touch with both you and my sister. We’re headed—” I turn to Kristin, “Where are we headed?”
“You’re going home,” she says. “I’m going to the hospital to check up on Mom.”
“I’m going with you,” I tell her.
“Not like this, you’re not,” she retorts.
“I’m either going home or to the hospital,” I tell him, and turn back to Kristin. “I’m fine. I want to go to the hospital with you.”
“You can come later today after you’ve had a shower, a nap, and some coffee. And, you know, brush your teeth,” she says, holding her nose like a child.
“If you want to meet me at my apartment, that would be okay,” I tell Eric.
His sigh is very audible.
“All right,” he says. “Is there anything I can pick up for you on my way?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, “I’m running low on vodka.”
Kristin’s sitting in the driver’s seat, shaking her head. “You need to get your shit together, sissy.”
Of all her terms for me that I don’t like, and there are many of them, “sissy” is the only one that actually pisses me off.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I ask her, covering the phone. “I can’t remember how many times I’ve picked you up from bars, parties… I’ve basically been your fucking designated driver since we were in high school.”
“Yeah, and I’m finally starting to see why that pissed you off so much,” she says. “Mom’s in the hospital. This isn’t all about you, Jessica.”
For whatever reason, her use of my first name makes me feel like an asshole.
I put the phone back against my ear and say, “Just meet me at my apartment and we’ll go from there.”
There’s no answer.
“Eric?”
I look down at the phone. The call’s already ended.
“I wonder where I lost him,” I mutter.
“I think around the time you told him you needed more vodka after ditching him in the bar he came to pick you up from is a pretty good guess,” she answers.
I look out the window.
“I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” I ask.
“You’re fucking a lot of things up,” she says.
“Gee, thanks. That’s very helpful,” I tell her.
“Just get your head out of your ass,” she says. “We’re all going through some shit right now, but we need to be there for Mom. That’s the important thing.”
“I just wish I knew that she was going to be okay,” I tell her.
“Me too,” Kristin answers.
We pull into my building’s lot, and Kristin parks in my space.
“Call your friend back and tell him you don’t need any vodka. I’ll stay with you until he gets here,” Kristin says.
“Why would he come?” I ask. “I haven’t exactly been the best version of myself the last couple of days.”
“Nobody expects you to be,” Kristin says, bumping the lock button on her keychain. “Maybe just start aiming a little higher than straight down, and I’m sure you’ll be okay.”
I feel stupid. I feel stupid and angry and depressed and helpless and I’m really not in the mood to be around myself right now, not that I have a choice in the matter.
That’s why I wanted to drink, but it’s not helping shit.
I tried to find a bar that reflected my feelings, but I just ended up getting bored and even more frustrated with everything.
“Is this what you were feeling like?” I ask as we make our way into the building.
“What do you mean?” she returns.
“All those times I picked you up,” I explain. “Did you feel this, I don’t know, broken?”
“Probably a different version of it,” Kristin says, “but yeah. I wasn’t doing it because I was happy.”
“Do you want a drink?” I ask her.
“Remember what I said about relocating your head?” she retorts.
I smile, and as we get to my apartment door, I realize that Eric’s got the key. Unlocking my phone again, I call the number.
“If you really want more vodka, I’ll get it for you,” he says.
“No, that’s okay,” I tell him. “I do, however, need my key to get in. Are you close?”
There’s the sound of a cash register opening and closing.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“I had to make a quick stop by the store,” he says. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Okay, thanks,” I answer, and hang up.
Kristin and I sit against the wall.
I turn to her, asking, “So the surgery went well?”
“Yeah,” Kristin says, “that’s what Dad told me, anyway. He said that they were able to get what they knew was in there. The only thing they can do now is hope that they didn’t miss anything.”
“And that’ll make her better?” I ask. “I mean, if they got everything, that’ll be the end of it and she’ll be all right?”
“I don’t know,” Kristin answers.
“What about chemo or radiation?” I ask. “Why haven’t they talked about doing any of that?”
“This kind of cancer doesn’t really respond to any of that,” she answers. “The only thing they can do is go in there and pull it out.”
“So she’s going to be fine?” I ask again.
Kristin just looks at the ground and says, “I hope so.”
We wait for a while and Eric eventually shows up. He’s got a brown bag in his hand, and before Kristin or I can say anything about it, he says, “I was already at the liquor store when you called. I would have just left it in the car, but that wouldn’t really have made much of a difference right now.”
Kristin stands and helps me to my feet. Eric pulls the keys from his pocket and hands them over to me.
“I can stay as long as you want me to,” Eric says, but as soon as the door’s unlocked, I can’t pretend like I want anyone to see me right now.
“That’s okay,” I tell him. “Go ahead and head back home. I’ll give you a call later.”
I don’t know if the look he’s giving me is one of disappointment or worry, but it’s definitely one of the above.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I’m taking the day. I can give you a hand around the house, give you someone to talk to—I mean, I know Kristin’s here, but sometimes the more the—”
“I’m sure,” I interrupt. I can feel myself snapping at him, but I can’t stop it.
It’s not like we’re some serious couple or like we’re in love or anything. So far, I think we’d be pushing it to say that we’re anything more than glorified fuck buddies. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I do love him.
With the door open, I motion for Kristin to come in, but she shakes her head.
“I’ve got to get to the hospital,” she says, and she turns to Eric. “Do you need a ride home?”
“That’s all right,” he says. “I can just take a cab. I live in the opposite direction from where you’re going.”
“Let me give you a ride home,” she insists. “I’ve got a little bit of time to kill. Our dad said he’d give me a call when she’s awake, and he hasn’t called yet.”
Eric looks at me and then back at Kristin.
“If you’re sure it won’t be a problem,” he says.
Kristin turns and gives me a hug, saying, “Remember: shower, nap, coffee, toothbrush. You’ll probably want to do it in that order, too.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
As she pulls away, I can see the uncertainty in Eric’s eyes. He makes a decision and starts to move toward me, but I just turn back toward Kristin and say, “Well, I’ll see you guys later.”
I shut the door behind me, and for a brief moment, I’m just proud of myself for not grabbing that brown paper bag from Eric’s hand.
That pride doesn’t last long, though.