Second to No One (28 page)

I wish I could tell her I’m sorry. I wish I could tell her it was my fault. I wish I could get out of this old, pasty hospital and beg her to be my friend again. I hope she and Jess are happy. I really, truly do. And when I think things like that, when I wish good things for other people, I have a glimmer of a hope that I’m healing. That maybe I won’t be this way forever.

I love you, Drew. Thank you for being there for me. I’ll let you know when my head stops playing tricks on me.

Love,

Lauren

I set Drew’s laptop on the bed next to me and tried to absorb Lauren’s letter. I wasn’t sure if it made me feel better…or worse. She made me sound like a saint, but I wasn’t. I so wasn’t. She was right about one thing. I knew she was stealing my life right from under my nose, but I wasn’t all Melissa Miller about it. I didn’t let her do it because I was some kind of a peacemaker. I let her do it because I had no idea how to stop her, no matter how much I tried.

I left Drew’s house at five thirty. I had a bit of time before Jess got home from work so I stopped at the assisted living center to see Tag. Ms. Delrose’s mother, Mae, and a few other ladies were in the hall when I walked in the door. They greeted me with dentured smiles as they sat around in their wheel chairs discussing the latest gossip.

“Pat slipped into a coma today,” Mae informed me. She took my hand when I was close enough and held it while she talked. “I was just talking to her this morning about the Avon lady that’s always coming around here trying to sell us age-defying skin care products. Pat hated that lady, and now she may not ever see her again.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, squeezing her cold, frail hand. “I know Pat is a close friend of yours.”

“Oh well.” Mae waved her arm in the air, and I feared for a moment that it would break in two. “Most of my good friends have passed on. I’m not sure what I’m still holding on for.”

“You’re holding on for me, you old hag,” Toni said, nudging Mae in the shoulder. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane in this loony bin.”

“Oh, Toni,” Mae chortled. “There’s always Tag to keep you on your toes. You’ll have him around for a long while.” Mae looked back at me as though just remembering I was still there. “I gather you’ve come to see the old fart. He’s in the cafeteria licking up all the leftovers.”

“Thanks, Mae.” I gave her hand one more squeeze. “See you later, Toni.” They both waved me off, and I made my way to the cafeteria. When I stepped through the door, I saw Tag’s back as he leaned over the serving counter talking to the head cook. The cook looked bored, but Tag was enthralled with his own story as he spooned some yellow custard into his mouth.

“Hey, Tag,” I said as I approached. “I hear you’re stealing all the food.” The cook was obviously relieved to see me. He excused himself and turned back to doing dishes in the back.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to steal if they’d give me more than crumbs for dinner.” He scowled at the empty donut holder. “I think they’re trying to starve me to death.” He set the empty bowl of custard on a dirty tray and strutted past me toward the door. “What brings you in at this time of night?”

I followed him out the cafeteria door. “I just wanted to say hi.”

“Your boyfriend’s at work?”

“You caught me.”

“Well, I don’t care that you like him more than me. As long as I get to see you now and again.”

“I thought we could play a few games of thirty one. I’ve been practicing with Jess. I beat him all the time.”

“Well that would be lovely, but Ms. Cooper in 14C borrowed my cards Tuesday morning, and I haven’t seen them since. I swear that lady has lost her marbles.”

We got to his room, and I followed him inside. The familiar smell of coffee and soap was in the air. “That’s okay,” I said, as I sat on an oversized chair in the corner. “We can just talk.”

Tag sat down on his bed and let out a large breath. “The distance between the cafeteria and my room seems to get longer every day.” He brushed his hands over his pants. “I’m getting old, Gemma. Right before my very eyes. You’re lucky you’re doing your community service now. In a year or two, I may not have been here to make it so fun.”

“Well, I’m all through with the community service.” I leaned forward on my knees. “I just come now for the good conversation.”

Tag pretended not to care, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. “Oh well, you’re not the first woman in my life who’s used me for my brain.” He sat back between his pillows and closed his eyes. “So what’s the latest and greatest in the life of Gemma Mitchell?”

I shrugged. “I applied for a job at Sapphire Lodge. They called me this afternoon for an interview.”

Tag nodded. “Work is good. It keeps you kids out of trouble.”

“And I think my best friend Drew is going to work there with me. I’m trying to talk her into it anyway.”

“Drew. The makeup girl?”

“That’s her.”

“So maybe you won’t be staying out of trouble after all.”

I breathed out a small laugh. “Yeah, you could be right.”

“And when does your better half move to Charleston?”

“In three weeks. The day after school gets out.”

“They never sold the house, huh?”

“Not yet.”

“Times are tough right now.”

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

Tag sat up and peered at his green digital clock next to his bed. “It’s dinnertime. Don’t you think your family is waiting for you?”

“You want me to go?” I sat up as he rested his head back against his pillow. “I’m sorry. You’re probably tired.”

“It’s six o’clock,” Tag said gruffly. “I’m old. I’m not dead.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t get me wrong now, I love seeing you. But you’re young and healthy. You shouldn’t spend so much time in this depressing place if you don’t have to.”

I picked at a piece of dirt under my fingernail, “I don’t really want to go home.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t really feel like home anymore.”

“How’s that?”

I took a deep breath. I hadn’t really thought it through before. I just knew I’d been trying to avoid the place as much as I could lately. “Um,” I rubbed my hands together slowly, “I guess because my mom and I aren’t getting along lately and because Bridget isn’t really there very much because of Rick. And my dad…”

“You’re dad?”

“I don’t know, I guess he doesn’t feel like my dad anymore.”

“He’s getting worse?”

I nodded. “He sleeps most of the time. But even when he’s awake, it’s like he’s far away. Like he’s focusing so much on death and heaven and what that means that he’s forgotten about life and earth and the people around him.”

“Have you talked to him about death?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Maybe you should talk to him again.”

“Maybe.”

“I know that if I were your father and I knew you were spending your extra time with a strange old man in a rest home, I would feel pretty jealous.”

“He doesn’t know where I am. I honestly don’t think he knows when I’m home.” I looked up at Tag, who was scrutinizing my every word. “I’m not trying to feel all sorry for myself. I know he’s going through a lot right now, and so is everyone else. I know it’s not all about me. I know that.”

“Maybe it is all about you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe you should be doing more than you’re doing. Maybe it’s your fault that the people in your life are all struggling so much.”

I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t understand how he could be accusing me of something like that. “I can’t stop my dad from dying, Tag.”

“No, but you can give him something to live for while he’s still here. You can be more help to your mom. You can be there for Bridget.”

“I’m there for them, Tag. You don’t even know them. You don’t even know me.” I stood up and grabbed my coat off the chair. “I’m doing all I know how to do.”

“Avoid them?”

“I’m going to go.” I slipped my arms through the sleeves of my coat. “I have a lot of homework to do, and I really don’t have time for this.” I moved toward his propped open door. “Have a good night.”

“Gemma,” Tag said just before I stepped out.

I stopped and turned around. “What.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you very well. But I do know one thing.”

I took a deep breath waiting for him to continue.

“I know that there are a lot of people in your life who think of you as the single most important person they have. And yet here you sit, night after night, playing cards with an old, dying man you hardly know. I know it’s not easy facing life head on. But if you run away from it, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Trust me, I know.”

I watched him for a moment as a cloud of gray swept over his leathery, worn out eyes. I thought maybe I should go back in and ask him what he meant by that. But from the way that he turned his back to me and slowly moved some old coins around his night stand, I knew that he wanted to be alone. I stepped into the hall and let his door click behind me. The halls were empty and humming with the sounds of breathing ventilators and soft television voices flooding from the rooms. I made my way outside and to my car. The air was freezing, but I was warm with frustration. I got in my car and turned the key, but I couldn’t think of any place to go.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that Tag might have been right. He was just an angry old man who didn’t know anything about me or my life. But still, what he said irked me, and I just couldn’t shake it. Ten minutes later, I found myself pulling into my driveway. Jess’s car still wasn’t in his, but I knew it wouldn’t be. So why was I here? I got out of my car and moved slowly along the path to my front door. I jiggled the lock with my key and stepped inside. As always, the front room was black except for the white bouncing lights of the muted TV. My dad was asleep on the couch, where he spent most nights now that he didn’t have enough energy to move to his own bed. The rest of the house stayed perfectly still, afraid to wake the sick man with cancer. Even though he was sicker than I’d ever seen him, he never really went to the hospital anymore. Mom said that he just wanted to be home now, and every once in a while a hospice nurse would come to make sure he was comfortable.

It had been days, weeks even, since I had rounded the couch and sat beside him. He was almost always asleep when I got home, and if he wasn’t, he looked much too exhausted to carry on a conversation. That’s what I told myself anyway.

But tonight, instead of making my way directly upstairs, I slowly and quietly lifted up the red-and-white quilt that was draped on the couch behind my dad’s small body. I carefully sat down on the cushion next to his feet and curled myself into a ball between the arm of the couch and his legs. I wrapped the quilt around my shoulders and let my head fall against the cushion. I watched him in the darkness and wondered what he could possibly be dreaming about. I wanted so badly to wake him. I wanted to tell him about my life. There were so many things he didn’t know. I wanted him to tell me about his. There was even more of that that I didn’t know. But he didn’t wake up, and I didn’t wake him, and soon I fell asleep to the steady sound of him breathing.

Chapter 21

I
t was strange to see
my dad sitting up at the counter the next morning with one of his old work shirts on and a new pair of slacks. He said he woke up feeling, spry and he had a list a mile long of things he had been putting off until a day like this. I was at the sink washing a green pepper that he had instructed me to pull from the refrigerator. “Now cut it into long strips,” he said. “It’ll be better than tiny little diced cubes.”

The first item on his list had been to go for a walk. It had been weeks since he’d been outside, so Bridget and I draped him in sweaters and a winter hat even though it was eight o’clock in the morning and almost seventy degrees out. He made it to the end of the street with the two of us flanking him, and by the time we made it back to the house, he was coughing so hard I was worried I was going to have to call an ambulance. He took a long nap until eleven o’clock, after which he insisted he was ready for the second item on his list. He led me to the kitchen and told me to put on an apron, then explained that he was going to teach me the secret recipe to his chili relleno casserole. It was the one meal he ever made, but it was everyone’s favorite, and no one knew how to make it the way he did.

“Now take that can of chilis,” he said, “and drain them really well. You don’t want any water sneaking into the dish.”

I did as he said then followed the rest of the directions on the recipe card. He said the secret was coming up later once it was ready to be put into the oven. He watched me carefully though as I poured each item into the casserole dish. It was his favorite meal in the world, and he wasn’t about to watch me mess it up.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said as I grated two cups of cheese onto the mixture.

“Does it have to do with chili relleno casserole?”

“No.”

“Then it better wait. You need to concentrate.”

I completed the instructions on the recipe card and wiped up the counter around us. “Okay,” I said holding the dish in front of me. “Now what’s the secret?”

Dad stared at me with tight lips. “Well, if you’re going to be flippant about it, I’ll share the world’s biggest secret with Bridget.”

“I’m sorry.” I laughed softly then set the dish back on the counter. “Can I pretty, pretty please know the secret to your amazing chili relleno casserole?”

Dad narrowed his eyes at me. “You can’t ever forget it.”

“I won’t.”

“And you can’t tell it to another soul.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“You can’t even write it down.”

“Okay, Dad. What is it?”

“Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon?”

He pointed to the small canister next to the refrigerator that held our cinnamon. “Sprinkle a bit of that over the top of that baby, and people will think you’re the best cook since Julia Childs.”

“That’s it?” My shoulders fell with disappointment. “You just add cinnamon?”

But Dad looked proud. “Who would have thought that you’d put cinnamon in a chili relleno casserole? But let me tell you, some kind of magic goes on there when you combine the spicy chilis with the sweet taste of cinnamon. It’s heaven-sent.”