Draw Me In (10 page)

Ian
bracketed his hands on Joshua
’
s
shoulders, which surprised me because he wasn
’
t typically the touchy-feely type. I
mean, he was with his closest friends, but with the guys he
’
d dated in the past, he tended to be
much more hesitant and reserved. Guarded even.
“
That
’
s awfully nice of you, Joshua, but
one thing you
’
ll
need to learn about being part of this family is that we don
’
t do the whole nicety thing, right
Jules?
”

 
“
Yep,
”
I nodded.
“
We like to literally fight for the
last cup of milk or the toy in the bottom of the cereal box.
”
Joshua laughed and I could tell it
was authentic, not at all out of obligation.
“
No joke. Ian once dropkicked me to
claim his right to shower in the bathroom first. I have the stitches to prove
it.
”

“
Jules karate-chopped me for using her
deodorant.
”

“
Well,
”
I groaned, balancing my bowl in my
palm. Steam rose out of it, dancing in the air like an aromatic smoke. My
stomach growled loudly once more.
“
You
have to admit
—
that
’
s completely gross.
”

Joshua
pressed a hand to his stomach, slightly bent in laughter as he said,
“
Because I honestly don
’
t think I
’
d stand a chance against either of
your ninja skills, how
‘
bout
a compromise and we share the futon.
”

“
Works for me,
”
Ian smiled.

“
Me too.
”

Dinner
hit the spot. And so did the company and conversation. Learning about Joshua
and his interest in cinematic filmography was a pleasant distraction from the
constant thoughts of Leo
—
a
flipbook of snapshotted slides flashing through my brain. Joshua was the oldest
of four brothers and a New York resident from birth. With a dad as the head
surgeon at NY Mercy Health and his mother a fully attentive, stay-at-home
housewife, it truly did sound as though he not only had the perfect upbringing,
but the perfect future laid out for him, too.

I
loved watching Ian
’
s
eyes spark with appreciation every time Joshua would say something new to
reveal another, equally as attractive trait about him.

I
loved it, and sort of hated it.

Or
maybe I hated myself, because I could
’
ve
had an experience practically parallel to this one had I just accepted Leo
’
s invitation to lunch. Seriously,
what on earth was thinking? I was really stoopid. And no, not stupid, but
stoopid
, because that
’
s how dumb I was
—
I couldn
’
t even spell it right.

“
Question,
”
I interjected during a brief pause
in our conversation. We were all at the sink now, Ian rinsing the dishes under
a spray of water and Joshua drying, with me sitting across on the barstool
because I
’
d
been instructed to just sit there and look pretty by Ian when I offered to
help. Sometimes he was chauvinistic, sometimes he was sweet, and often times he
came across chauvinistic when he was trying to be sweet.

“
Shoot.
”

“
If someone works up the courage to
ask you out, and you deny them, is the likelihood of said person asking you out
again completely non-existent? Or is there still a chance?
”

Joshua
lifted his shoulders in a shrug, swiping the flour sack towel over the last set
of utensils.
“
Depends.
”

I
almost went all Dumb and Dumber on him and recited,
‘
So you
’
re saying there
’
s a chance!
’
but instead I bit the side of my
cheek, nearly piercing the fleshy inside and said,
“
Depends on what?
”

“
On the person. Or both people,
actually,
”
Ian continued, but it didn
’
t
feel like he was stealing Joshua
’
s
words, just adding to them like they were on the same wavelength, a ride of
thoughts and feelings.
“
Depends
on if the person is worth fighting for, and if the other is a fighter. That
’
s the best case scenario.
”

Right.
I
’
d figured as much. But I hadn
’
t figured out if either of those two
options were true for Leo and me.
“
What
is the average scenario? Because it feels a little ambitious to shoot for best
case. I don
’
t
want to be an over achiever.
”

“
The average scenario is that no one
likes being rejected, so chances are slim that whoever this girl is
—”
Ian tossed me a
knowing wink, and continued,
 
“—
will get asked out
by said guy again.
”

“
Yeah, that seems about right.
”
My hope plummeted in my stomach,
making it roll like those Bingo cages. At least I thought it was my hope
—
could
’
ve been the moo shoo pork repeating
on me. Acid slid up my esophagus, which made me feel pathetic because this wasn
’
t the type of information to actually
get sick over. Maybe Mr. Wong didn
’
t
get it right this time. I pushed the palm of my hand to my abdomen to ease the
sharp, sudden pain that burned in my gut, like cut glass shredding my insides.

“
She might not get asked out again,
but she could get hired.
”

I
gagged a little.
“
What?
”
My mind spun in wild confusion and
my stomach pretty much did the same.
“
What
did you say?
”

“
You doubted my job seeking skills?
”
I still had no clue what Ian was
referring to, and the nausea filling my body like a noxious gas made it all
that more challenging to focus on his words and their actual meanings.
Somewhere, my brain detached from the rest of my body and all I could focus on
was the physical pain that loomed in my lower half.
“
I got you a job, Love.
”

“
Where?
”
I had to resort to one-word
interactions because if I added any extra, it would be more than just words to
spew from my mouth. In an instant, I had become completely sick to my stomach,
and it took a lot of intentional deep breathing and deliberate swallowing to
keep the contents of my dinner pushed down where they belonged.

“
I showed Leo one of your sketches
during the shoot today. They
’
re
in the market for a new wine label designer.
”
He smiled proudly as he waited for
my expression, that excited look of anticipation when you watched someone open
a truly great present. Unfortunately, I couldn
’
t offer what he hoped to see because
my faced was screwed up so tightly in an effort to keep from puking my guts
out.
“
You
’
ve been hired, Jules.
”

My
slow nodding turned quickly into a full body shudder, and I ripped myself off
of the barstool and hightailed it to the bathroom, just in time to flip open
the toilet lid and choke out the dinner that had been so viciously attacking my
insides. Sweaty, confused, and increasingly lightheaded, I slumped onto the
cool tile floor and allowed the frigid temperature to wash over me.

Then
it all went black.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Riding
in an ambulance was never any fun. Even less so when it was in the jam-packed
streets of New York City. What should have taken fewer than five resulted in a
forty-three minute detour filled with questions like,
“
Ma
’
am, do you still have your appendix?
”
like maybe I had misplaced it
somewhere along the way, accidentally left it on the subway, or perhaps even
donated it to science, and the paramedics poked at my skin enough to leave me
feeling like an abused pincushion.

By
the time I arrived at Mercy Health and was ushered into my own curtained off
portion of the overpopulated emergency room, I was about a quart low of bodily
fluid and looked like I was ready to fill in as an extra on the latest vampire
movie set. I generally liked vampires, so the thought actually got me a little
deliriously excited. My skin held a ghostly pallor and my eyes were webbed with
red vessels that crossed over all the typically white portions. I looked like
death warmed over, and to say I felt even that good was being incredibly
generous.

The
piercing pain that was attacking my right lower side continued again, and I
clawed at my skin with the sharp ridges of my nails to divert some of the
discomfort.

“
Shh,
”
Ian breathed against my scalp,
cradling my head between his hands. I wasn
’
t
sure if he was the one rocking me, or if that was something I
’
d unintentionally started on my own,
but he leaned in with me each time my body shook to absorb the pain.
“
It
’
s okay. You
’
re going to be okay.
”

I
could see Joshua standing behind him, peering over a shoulder with a strained
look in his eye like pieces my physical agony had been transferred to him as
well. That he was still here with Ian and me and it was 2:47 in the morning
proved he was an absolute keeper. I
’
d
have to tell Ian that once my ability to use my mouth for actual speaking
returned. Right now all that came out of it was groaning, followed with an
occasional gasp or pitiful yelp.

“
The good news is...
”
a person who I assumed had to be a
doctor said before even sweeping the curtain back to address us,
“
...it
’
s not your appendix.
”
When the owner of the voice
appeared, I could instantly see that this man delivering my diagnosis had to be
Joshua
’
s
father.
“
Dr.
Torkleson.
”
He had the same friendly eyes and the tone of their voices was nearly
identical. I remembered Joshua saying he was a surgeon though, and that
realization sparked an immediate panic in me. I really wanted to keep all of my
organs in my body today.
“
It
is, however, a ruptured ovarian cyst. Do you have a history of those?
”

I
hadn
’
t,
and it made me feel like a complete wuss to think that I
’
d been in such great amounts of pain
over something as small as a cyst. Though my dad had a kidney stone once and
likened it to pushing a bowling ball through a straw. That sounded all kinds of
awful, and the visual tattooed in my brain was equally as horrifying. This
experience was nowhere on that scale
—
neither
the kidney stone scale, nor the kidney stone visualization scale.

I
shook my head at Dr. Torkleson.
“
No,
I haven
’
t.
Not that I know of, at least.
”
The twisting pain started to pass and I tried to hard focus on his words. They
floated out in front of me and I had to intentionally filter them into my ear
canal and up to my brain. Whatever drugs they
’
d given me were amazing. I
’
d have to snag some of these for
home.

“
They can be excruciating and are
often mistaken for appendicitis. It
’
s
a good thing you came in here because a ruptured cyst can, in extremely severe
instances, lead to internal bleeding. This didn
’
t happen in your case, thank
goodness.
”

I
felt Ian
’
s
hands curl over mine, even though mine were tucked under the thin sheet draped
over me. It was absolutely freezing in here. I welcomed the warmth and comfort
his palms provided.

“
We
’
ll prescribe you some medication to
help dull the pain, but the worst of it is definitely over. I
’
ll send in a nurse to discharge you,
but please, do not hesitate to call or follow up if you have any concerns.
”

There
was a veil of water coating Ian
’
s
eyes, and when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice cracked with emotion.
“
What about kids?
”
It was all he said.
“
Like, can she still have them?
”

Dr.
Torkleson looked to me for approval. Ian was asking for some pretty personal
information, and I was sure there was some type of confidentiality agreement in
effect that would keep the doctor from divulging it. I reiterated the question
to make it my own.
“
This
doesn
’
t
affect my ability to get pregnant, right?
”
I obviously had no immediate plans of even glancing at my biological clock, but
I knew down the line there were certain things I would want out of life.
Children definitely fit into that scenario.

“
It depends, but no, it shouldn
’
t. Most cysts are harmless and
benign, though incredibly uncomfortable if they rupture. The likelihood of conceiving
and carrying a child to full term is quite high, so I
’
m not at all worried in your case.
”

“
Oh, that
’
s great news,
”
Ian breathed, closing his eyes as
his tight shoulders loosened in relief. He
’
d
talked about being an uncle since the first year we lived together, so I was
certain some of the relief had to do with his future plans as well.

“
I
’
m sending in a nurse to begin the
discharge process,
”
Dr. Torkleson said, switching his gaze between Ian and myself, one eye a little
lazier than the other.
“
In
the meantime, do you have any more questions I can answer?
”

“
Work
—”
Ian started, but I took over his
train of thought.

“
Will I be able to go into work on
Monday?
”

While
he scratched at some file folded over the metal bar at the edge of my bed, he
answered,
“
Yes.
Just try to take it easy. You
’
ll
notice a huge improvement tomorrow, and even more on Sunday. By Monday, you
should be close to feeling like your old self again.
”

“
Thanks, Dad,
”
Joshua chimed in, lifting a hand to
rest it on his father
’
s
shoulder. The white coat rustled under his fingers.
“
I appreciate you getting her in so
fast.
”

“
My pleasure,
”
Dr. Torkleson replied, then transferred
his attention to me.
“
You
’
re lucky to have such good friends to
look out for you. From what I hear, you were unconscious for quite a while.
”

“
Yes,
”
I smiled. My lips cracked at the
corners, the dehydration making them all sandpaper and rough, patchy skin.
“
I
’
m very lucky. Thank you again, Dr.
Torkleson.
”

“
Of course.
”

After
he left the room
—
if
you could even call it one
—
Ian
turned to face me. I could detect the salty line of dried tears streaking down
his cheeks and my heart hurt because he
’
d
obviously been so rattled by what we just experienced. Sometimes being the sick
one was easier than playing the bystander. I
’
d been so disoriented with the sudden
onslaught of pain, I didn
’
t
even have time to process the fear that should have accompanied it. Ian didn
’
t appear so lucky, and even Joshua
still looked a little stunned from the whole ordeal.

“
Don
’
t do that to me again.
”
He shoved at my side, two-thirds
anger, one-third relief.
“
Promise?
”

“
I
’
ll try, but no guarantees.
”

With
a soundless laugh, Ian said,
“
Glad
to hear you plan on going into work on Monday. I was pretty certain the thought
of working for Leo made you vomit.
”

“
The thought of that doesn
’
t make me sick, no. Nervous? Yes. Out
of my league? Totally. But nothing about Leo or being in his presence is
sickening, that
’
s
for sure.
”

“
Now you
’
re sounding more like the Jules I
know and love.
”
Ian lifted my jeans and tank from their folded position on the chair next to
the cot and slid them my way. I untied the gown from my neck and took the
clothes he offered.
“
And
the doctor said you
’
ll
be good as new by Monday. Sounds like the perfect start for a new chapter in
your new life, Love.
”

I
nodded, hoping he was right.

Unfortunately,
he wasn
’
t.

I
wasn
’
t
as good as new on Monday. In fact, I was as bad as old. Seriously, I thought I
’
d gotten over the worry that I
’
d do something mortifying in Leo
’
s presence again, but my morning had
been riddled with embarrassing mishaps that caused me to blush with fever.
Fortunately, I was the only one to witness them.

Twice
I tumbled out of my jeans as I tried to wriggle my way into their impossibly
skinny legs, ending up in a tangled mess on my bedroom floor. Then, once I
decided upon a leopard print wrap-around dress instead, I
’
d somehow tied it up all wrong and as
I sat eating my cereal at the counter and catching up on the
Wall Street Journal
headlines, a boob
decided to join me, just falling out there like it ain
’
t no thing. Even the turtleneck
sweater I
’
d
assumed was a safe alternative tried to strangle me, and I could hardly roll
down the collar without cutting off all circulation to my brain.