Tessa
The white and black speckled linoleum shines as I glide the mop over the tiles. Back and forth I push, watching the grey looped yarn clean the spilled soup from the floor. The food staff around here has no regard for the other staff members. They drop trays of food and don’t bother to pick up their mess. Sometimes I wonder if they do it on purpose. When I was younger, I would tell time by the rise and set of the sun. Now I know it by the weekly serving of split pea soup. Pea soup Wednesdays.
I stand there and peer down at the splattering of green goop against the cold flooring. It gets thicker the colder it gets. After I finish with the most recent food tray disaster, I pass in front of Mrs. Calhoon’s room.
“You stink, Rhea. What did you bathe in, tequila?”
I take a step closer to the door, resting my hands on the handle of the mop and lean in so I can hear the muffled voices.
“No, Loa, it was scotch. Now come over here and help me roll her over.”
“Dad is going to be so pissed at you.”
“You think he’s really going to come here to visit her?” The voice grunts. “Does he even know that she’s been moved from community to here?”
“He has his reasons for not coming. You know as much as I do that mom isn’t the easiest person to be around.”
“It doesn’t matter. Dad knew who mom was when he married her.”
“Neither of us know that for sure.”
“I don’t understand how you can defend him time and time again, Loa. She’s your mom.”
“The fact that she gave birth to me doesn’t mean that I owe her anything, Rhea. She lost that right when she chose the bottle over her daughters.”
“Just help me with her, please.”
Their voices continue to get quieter until I’m unable to listen to them quarrel anymore without actually pushing the door open. Giving up, I turn my back on the door and step towards my cart. I place the mop into the soapy water and grab the yellow caution sign from the cart. When I turn around, the door to Mrs. Calhoon’s room opens, and a young woman comes stomping out. Her lips are pinched together, and there’s a scowl on her face. Her ponytail swishes back and forth as she rushes from the room, turning the corner and disappearing.
“Fucking perfect,” a voice hisses from the direction of the room.
When I turn my head back, the girl from the night before is standing in the doorway. Her arms are crossed her chest, and she’s holding the same scowl as the girl who just left.
“Can you help me?”
I blink, still holding the yellow sign in my hands. “I’m sorry?”
“Can. You. Help. Me?” Her tone doesn’t settle with me, and I let her know it.
“Can you ask a little nicer?” I ask as I drop the sign on the still-wet floor.
Her eyes dart, to the sign and then back to me. “I’m sorry.” She rakes her hands through her hair, “It’s been one hell of a day and my sister doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I’m sure the hangover isn’t helping.”
“Wait, what?” She narrows her eyes at me. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”
“No.” I’m confused, but then it hits me. “You really don’t remember, do you?” Her face is full of confusion. I turn my head in both directions, making sure my supervisors aren’t coming. “Never mind…what do you need help with?”
“My mom… I need to clean her–”
“The nurses can do that.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m here, and I like to do it. My sister walked out, and we were in the middle of changing her gown, and now my mom is half-dressed, and she’s not even conscious, so she’s laying there–”
“Okay, I’ll do it. Let me push my cart around the corner.”
She looks at the floor and shoves her hands into her back pockets, waiting for me. When I get the cart where I want it, I head back to the room. She steps back and lets me into the semi-darkened room.
“Let me turn the lights on so we can see what we’re doing.” She walks over and turns on the lamp that’s sitting on the nightstand. “We usually keep it dark in here so she can sleep. The sunlight seems to be enough, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
When the room is illuminated, my gaze falls to the bed where Rose is lying. Her sheets are pulled down to her feet. She has one arm pulled halfway through a sleeve of her gown while the other arm is resting by her side. I see her chest rise and fall while her closed eyes slightly flutter.
“She’s unconscious.”
I startle from the closeness of her voice.
“My name is Rhea, by the way.”
My eyes move from Rose back to Rhea who is now standing beside me. “I’m Tessa.”
“Shall we?” She lifts her hand towards her mother.
“Yeah, all right.” I take a few steps towards the bed. “I’ve helped the nurses before, so I’m familiar with how to dress her.” Leaning over, I grab the fabric of the gown and start to unbutton the snaps on her shoulders.
“Do you need help?” Rhea asks as I start to pull at the other set of buttons.
“Once her top half is undone, we’re going to have to pull the gown down, you can help with that. She has a catheter so be careful not to pull on the tubing.” Once the final snap is undone, I pull the fabric from her body, and that’s when I see it. Over her left breast in Old English script is the name I’ve only known one person to have–Hawking. I can’t help but stare.
“You okay?”
Startled, I jump. “Um…yeah.”
Rhea walks around the bed, so she’s standing across from me. “My brother.”
My head snaps up. “Pardon?”
She points towards the tattoo on Rose’s chest. “That’s my brother’s name.”
“Oh, I see.” I lean over and start to ease the gown down her body. “You can help now,” I tell her.
“I’ve never met him though.” She tugs the gown from under her mom. “My mom has a thing for birds. I’m Rhea, it’s a large, ostrich-type bird. I know, not really beautiful. My sister is Loa was named after a ground bird from Iceland. And Hawking, well, I think he’s named after a Hawk, but I’m not entirely sure.”
“I’ve always liked your name. It’s unique.”
Hawking and I have stayed behind while Devin Jr. and Matt took Sienna out for ice cream. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, but when Hawk complained about always doing what Sienna wanted, I decided to stay behind and keep him company. The summer night doesn’t give much relief from the heat of the day, and ice cream sure does sound good, but spending time with Hawk sounds better. Maybe Sienna will take it upon herself to bring me some ice cream back with her.
“I think it’s stupid.” He kicks the dirt with his feet.
“Why do you think that?” I ask as I twist in the seat.
“Why would I want to be named after a damn bird? It’s just something else that my mom did to ruin my life.”
“Well, I like it, and I don’t think it ruins anything about you.”
“You would, Tessa. You never see the bad in the world. It’s always sunshine and roses to you.”
“That’s not true, I see plenty of nasty stuff, but your name isn’t one of those things. Anyways, your name doesn’t make you who you are, Hawking. You’re the only one who can decide that.”
“Oh yeah, even if I’m the son of Hound, VP of Devil’s Fury? The fact that I’m destined to follow in my old man’s footsteps doesn’t mean anything to you?”
We’re in Bianca and Devin’s backyard swinging on the swing set, and I pull back on the chains, making myself start to glide through the air. “Nope, it sure doesn’t. It’s like you’re saying that Sienna is destined to be a club whore because her daddy’s the president. Is that what you see for Sienna’s future?”
“Hell no! Devin would never allow that to happen.”
“Well then, why do you think you’re destined to end up like your daddy? It’s your life, Hawking, and no one can live it but you...”
“Wh–where is he?” I ask as I stand back up. I haven’t thought about that night from my childhood in so long. I drop the dirty gown on the bed. My heart races with the possibility that this is the same man I grew up with. I twist and grab the clean gown that’s on the nightstand.
“I’m not sure,” she responds. “He’s older than we are. From my mom’s first marriage or something. She’s never really talked about him, and I’ve never met him.”
Readying the gown with shaky hands, I start the process again. It has to be the same person. The coincidences are too striking.
It has to be Hawk.