Plain Jayne (22 page)

One had a green iguana.

I continued until I found the right door. I don't know
how
I knew it was the right one, because the name on the whiteboard to the side read “Artemus X,” and I didn't know anyone named Artemus X.

I knew the person inside. People, rather. My father was on the bed, wires and tubes entering and exiting through his nose, his ears, his feet, his fingers. I'd never seen him so pale. If the machine to his left weren't beeping, I wouldn't think him alive.

My mother sat next to the bed, her face covered with a lacy black mantilla. I don't know why—she wasn't Catholic or Spanish. I could see her tears beneath the dark lace.

Beth sat next to her. In her arms she held my niece, Emilee, though instead of looking like Emilee she looked like Baby Ruby.

I stepped farther into the room when I saw Baby Ruby. “May I hold her?”

Beth clutched Baby Ruby tighter. “Since when do you hold babies?”

“Since I went and stayed with the Amish. I learned a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“I learned to bake pie, how to hold babies, how to—”

“Be loyal to your family?” Beth's eyes narrowed. “You took care of their father, but you wouldn't go near your own.”

“But I'm here now!” I said, pointing to the figure on the bed. “I'm not too late!”

“Yes, you are,” she said, and when I turned back to look at the bed, I saw the sheet had been pulled over my father's face.

“Why did you do that? He's still alive. Move the sheet, or it'll get stuffy in there.”

“He's dead.”

I pulled the sheet back. “No, he's not! He's alive! I just saw him alive! The monitor was beeping!”

She put a cautioning hand on my shoulder. “It's not beeping anymore. You're too late.”

“I'm not too late!” I swatted away her hand. “Dad? Wake up! It's Jayne! Tell them I'm not too late. I know you can hear me! Please wake up. I'm not too late! Not too late!”

“Jayne! Open your eyes!”

I didn't know where the voice was coming from. Open my eyes? My eyes were already open. Someone was shaking my shoulders. Who was that? Beth had disappeared. My mother was gone.

But a person crouched next to me in the dark. The person was Levi. He released my shoulders. I realized I was awake and had been dreaming.

I frowned and pushed myself into a sitting position. “What are you doing? What time is it?”

“Late. Are you okay?”

I took stock. I was not okay. I released the knot of grief that had held itself captive inside my chest and shook my head. “No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“You were crying out.”

I winced. “S-sorry. Did I wake your mom or Sara?”

“No, don't worry about it. Were you dreaming?”

I nodded.

“That would explain the iguana.”

“There was an iguana?”

“In the hospital room.”

“Oh.”

“I'm not crazy!”

Levi handed me the tissue box from under the end table. “Didn't say you were.”

I wiped at my eyes. “I dreamed my dad was in the hospital. My mom and my sister were there. He was alive. I stopped to talk with my sister, and then he was…” A sob caught at my throat. “He was gone. I missed it. I
wasn't there. And Beth was telling me about how I was there for your dad but not for mine and…” I shrugged. “She's right.
You
have been available to your dad, and he's all but denounced you.”

“When did your dad pass away?”

“About four weeks ago.” Had it been that long? Longer? Shorter? “I think.”

“Do you mind if I sit on the couch? This is killing my knees.”

“Okay.”

He shifted himself up and onto the couch, sitting next to me.

“Do you…need to go spend time with your family?”

“I wasn't there. I don't know why they'd want me around.”

“Who do you have left?”

“My mom. My sister.”

“I'm sure they miss you.”

I hugged my arms to myself. “I'm sure they don't.”

“A daughter. A sister. They miss you.”

“I don't know why.”

Levi leaned back. “We're designed to want a relationship with our families. Even if things are strained, there is the desire for things to be better.”

I thought about it. Did I wish things were better? Of course I did. Of course I craved beauty instead of ugliness. But I didn't want to concede the things I would have to in order to receive acceptance from my mom and Beth. I told Levi as much.

“What do you have to concede?”

“I don't know. My independence.”

“Can I ask you something?”

I yawned. Hmm. Those sleeping pills were still in my system. “Okeydokey.”

“What's so great about independence?”

“Well, it worked for the American Revolutionaries.”

“Personal independence can be overrated. Consider the Amish. Their families and communities are completely dependent on each other, and it works for them. They take care of their friends, family, and neighbors, knowing they'll be taken care of too when the time comes.”

“I don't know,” I said with a shake of my head. If I were more awake, I might have been able to come up with a better argument. My eyelids felt heavy.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

I forced my eyes back open. “I don't want to fall asleep again.”

“Why not?”

“If I close my eyes again, the iguana might still be there.”

Levi chuckled. “I think you're already falling asleep.”

“Am not.”

“You're worried about the iguana?”

“And my dad. Maybe he's haunting my dreams.”

“I don't think so.”

“He's angry with me.”

“If he's in heaven, he's too happy to be angry.”

I shook my head. “You don't know my dad.”

“Are you sure you don't want to go back to sleep?”

“He'll be there. Angry with me.”

Levi took my face between his hands. “If he's in heaven, looking at you the way I see you, it would be impossible for him to be angry with you.”

A part of me registered that maybe I ought to enjoy that touch, or resent it, or something, but I was too fuzzy to pick one. “You think?”

“I know.”

My eyelids felt like lead weights. Were they always so heavy? “You're nice.”

“Thanks.”

“It's too bad I can't fall in love with you.”

I think he may have stroked my hair. “It is too bad. Why can't you?”

“You'd want to know.”

“Know what?'

“Everything.” I yawned. “I'm sleepy.”

“I noticed.”

“I don't want to sleep.”

“The iguana again?”

“No.” I sank back into the couch. “The puppies.”

“I'm not going to ask.”

“Fluffy puppies.”

“I'm sure they were. Do you love Shane?”

“Probably not.”

“Why can't we be together?” Was it the artificial sleep, or did he sound sad?”

I waved a hand. “I can't remember. What time is it?”

“Late. You should go to sleep.”

“I don't want to close my eyes.”

“Why don't you just rest your head on my shoulder?”

“Really?” I shifted so that his shoulder would be in range. He had a comfortable-looking shoulder.

“You don't even have to close your eyes.”

“Okay.”

The next thing I knew, I was curled up on my side on the couch. It was morning, and I was all alone.

I began to reheat Gemma's breakfast casserole per the instructions taped to the casserole lid. Even as I went through the motions of placing it in the appropriately warmed oven, I tried to piece together the events from the night before.

I remembered the dream vividly. The scent of hospital hallways still clung to my nose, though my logical self reminded me of my recent trips to the hospital. Then there was the oddness of the, ah, animals that also inhabited my dreams. I chalked them up to a snack of cheese and crackers before bed.

But after the dream…I remembered Levi waking me. I remember talking with him, calming down. After that, things were a bit fuzzy. And that was bad. I had a tendency to react to tiredness as if it were truth serum and not remember things I said, a fact Joely and Kim had attempted to exploit more than once.

Not Gemma, though. Gemma was too nice.

The fact that I was medicated probably hadn't helped, either.

I whipped around when I heard footsteps, hoping it was Sara or Martha and not the person who had witnessed me at my most vulnerable.

Again.

Levi stood on the threshold of the kitchen. “Hey.”

“Hey back.”

“How are you this morning?”

My heart sank. If only he had the same memory issues I did.

“Fine,” I answered.

“You didn't seem to have any other disturbing dreams.”

I winced. “Not that I remember. Listen, about last night?”

“Yeah?”

I almost didn't continue. His eyes, occasionally guarded, were open and full of a hope I hated to shatter.

“I, um, I don't really remember much after you woke me up.”

Levi smiled. “I'm not surprised.”

Fine, but I was. I expected him to be upset, not smiley. “You're not?”

“You were pretty out of it.”

“Oh. What did I say?”

He shrugged. “Stuff about iguanas.”

“Iguanas? You're making that up.”

“Surprisingly, no.” He stretched his arms. “Where do you keep your coffee? I'll start a pot.”

“Um…I don't actually have a coffeemaker.”

Levi froze. “You don't have a coffeemaker?”

“No.”

“French press?”

“Which I believe is a kind of coffeemaker…”

“Instant granules?”

“I have green tea.”

From the look on Levi's face, you would have thought I'd told him to raise a glass of hemlock to his lips. “So tell me,” he said after he recovered, “is there any decent coffee to be found in this town?”

“Somewhere, yes. This is Portland, after all. Who do you think Seattle sells it to?”

“Want to help me find some after breakfast? I haven't had any in over twenty-four hours.”

“Can't have that,” I said, realizing without disappointment that I'd just agreed to go.

M
artha stopped dead when she walked into the kitchen and found break-fast prepared. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I must have overslept.”

“That's perfectly fine.” I reached for a serving spoon. “Would you like some?”

She nodded. I didn't imagine people made breakfast for her very often.

Sara followed shortly after. “Any news on Dad?”

Levi shook his head. “I'm about to call the nurse and check.”

“Or you could talk to him yourself,” I murmured in the softest of soft voices.

“Not over the phone,” he muttered back.

I made a face at him.

He made a face back.

“I can call,” Martha said, oblivious to our moment. “I would like to hear his voice.”

We ate in silence as Martha borrowed my phone for the call.

She listened carefully to the person on the other line, but her face lit up when Gideon came on.

I smiled as I watched. “He must be awake.”

“And upset that he's still in a hospital bed,” Levi added.

Sara rolled her eyes. “He's probably going crazy.”

Five minutes later, Martha held the phone out to me. “How do I hang up?”

I snapped the phone shut.

“Oh. That makes sense. I'd like to go to the hospital soon.”

“Is Dad okay?” Sara asked.

“He says he is, and the nurse agrees. But he wants to get out of bed, and I need to be there to stop him.”

Levi and Sara exchanged glances.

Levi looked to me. “Another time?”

Another time for…oh, right. Coffee. “Of course.” Probably for the best anyway.