The Lost Hearts (9 page)

Lawrence moaned, and Alexis flew to his side,
and wrapped his cold hand between hers.  “Alexis?” 

“
Mmmhmm,” she managed, still fighting hot tears.

His voice was
labored, and peeled from his throat in dry rasps.  “Just sit awhile with me.” 

Alexis sat for hours beside him, day after day.  Sometimes the room was eclipsed by silence, at others she spoke randomly about New Guinea.  Her father lay helpless against the starchy white bed linens, occasionally nodding his head or grunting acknowledgement.  Finally he turned his head to her, his eyes wet.  “Alexis.  You don’t have to worry about breaking any bad news to me.  Dr. Monahan has been very honest.”  His pale lips sagged open as he strained to keep himself on track.  “I know I’m not to go on the trip.” 

“Father, please.  We can talk about this when you’re feeling better.”  Alexis reached tenderly to smooth his fly-away strands. 

“That’s just it, Alexis.  We don’t know if I’m going to feel better.”  His words were exact, like an iron fist to the stomach.  It was one thing to hear a skeptical prognosis from the doctor, but the resignation in her father’s voice flattened her.  She shook her head, her chin wrinkled beneath a defiant frown.  Lawrence patted her hand.  “Alexis…I want you to go.”

Alexis’ brow fold
ed in confusion.  “What?  Why?  I want to stay here with you.”

“No, Alexis.  I don’t mean the hospital.”  Lawrence locked his gaze to hers.  “I mean New Guinea.  I want you to go.”

Alexis froze, her eyes narrowing.  Her heart slammed against the wall of her chest.  ‘I…I don’t know what to say.  I think you’re still a little foggy from the sedatives.”

Lawrence shook his head, wincing with the effort.  “No, no, Alexis!  I know fully what I’m saying.”  He stared gravely at his daughter, his chest rising with emotion.  “Listen to me, girl.  I’ve do
ne a lot of things in my life.  It seems the only thing I didn’t do was look death in the face.  It…has a way of putting things into perspective.”  Alexis turned her head from him.  She couldn’t bear to watch the tears well in his eyes, or listen to his broken voice.  “I know I haven’t been the ideal father-”

“What?” Alexis snapped defensively.

“Listen.  I know I could’ve been a better father, and I’m sorry it’s taken a brush with mortality to say this, but…I’m so proud of you.  I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.  I only wish your mother could be here to see you.”  Lawrence sniffed and cleared his throat.  “I’m ashamed of the way I’ve guarded you, Alexis.  It was my own fear, my own desire to keep you safe.  It was selfish.  Please let’s make the most of this situation, and do me the honor of taking over my work,
our
work, in New Guinea.”

Alexis sprung from his side.  She couldn’t name the mixture of feelings clashing about in her heart. 
Biting her lip, she moved toward the small window overlooking a dimly lit side street.  Her father had just uttered the words she’d longed to hear for more than a decade.  She’d fantasized about a moment such as this a thousand times, and the elation she might feel at the idea of exploring new worlds firsthand.  Her face was pressed close to the windowpane and under the warmth of her breath a steamy sphere ballooned over the cold glass.  Now the moment had come, and she was terrified.

“Alexis?”

“Yes.”  Pressing her fingers to the cold glass pane, she looked back at her father’s bed.  “I’m just overwhelmed right now,” she breathed.  “It’s a lot to take in.  You being here.  Now you tell me you want me to leave you for months and go halfway around the world.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined such an opportunity.” 
But not like this,
she thought.  She walked to his bedside and sank into the wooden chair.  She took his hand and pressed her lips to it, her cheeks streaked with new tears.

Lawrence managed a weak smile.  “That’s my girl.  I’ve asked the nurse to call on our colleagues from the museum tomorrow.  We’ll start right away on transferring the details of the trip to your name.”

“They’ve all agreed?  When did you have time to arrange all this?”

“This morning.
  There’s been some convincing in all this, but most of our team is on-board.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”
  She felt tossed around.  How could he suggest something like this now?  With so much at stake?  How could he put her in this position? 
You’re just afraid,
a voice somewhere deep jibed.  She shook her head, fighting with herself.  She stood again, this time pacing along the short length of the room as she bit roughly at her fingernail.  The room was insufferably small, and her father’s eyes burned into her with expectation.  She pulled her coat from the tall wooden hanger by the door, her back to her father.  She could only hear the hushed rattle of his breathing.

“No.  I won’t do it.  I’m not going to leave you,” she said, her voice sharp.   Her hand felt for the doorknob, and strangling the massive sob which threatened to explode from her body, she left him there.

Chap
ter Six

“So what did you say?”  Philip leaned forward, his elbow planted on the surface of the café table.  The steam from the black coffee rose and caught in the bright white of the late morning.  Philip reached across the table toward a flat golden case and brought one of the neatly rolled cigarettes to his mouth.

Alexis watched him with dull eyes.  She had not slept or eaten since she last saw her father, and her eyes had drained of their light.  She tapped the cream
-colored mug with a tiny silver tea spoon, and for a moment she forgot he’d asked her a question.  Her leg, crossed tightly over the other, bounced nervously and she made a conscious effort to still herself.  “I said no.”

Philip breathed audibly, undisguised relief washing over his face.  His hand covered Alexis’ wrist
, which lay open on the edge of the table.  Drawing shallow puffs of smoke from the white tube, he began to laugh. 

“What’s funny?”

Philip shook his head.  “I’m sorry, Alexis.  I was going to try and hide my relief, but I can’t.  I’m glad you said no.”  Alexis felt her brow rocket upward, alert to the fact that he had perhaps betrayed himself.  Philip sat upright in his seat, resting the cigarette between the wide black forks of the ashtray.  It burned slowly, and an electric orange ring climbed upward leaving behind a grey skin of ash. 

“Don’t get me wrong, Alexis.  Please.”  He leaned forward and sighed through a nervous smile.  She could see he was on the defense.  “Of course I’d be worried about you, but more than anything I just think it’s bad timing.  I can’t imagine you would feel comfortable leaving your father like this.”

Alexis fell back in her seat and nodded her head mechanically.  She stared at her hands folded in her lap.  They seemed to belong to someone else. “Well, that’s it.  I
won’t
leave him like this.” 

It was the constant refrain of the last twenty-four hours and yet it rang hollow and transparent.  She remembered the moment she’d heard her father urge her to go.  It felt like freedom.  She wasn’t prepared for the gut-wrenching dread she felt next.  Behind the reluctance to leave her father was the leaden fear of the unknown.  That second of freedom stretched and pulled her, and she saw with disheartening clarity the true for
m of her fear.  It was the disappointing realization that she no longer knew what she was made of. 

Until that moment, she had rebelled and struggled against the limitations of her father, and believed herself to have the free adventurous spirit of a wild caged bird.  Now the door had swung open and more than anything, she wanted it to swing shut.  She didn’t want the choice.

“Philip?” her voice squeezed, and she looked desperately across the table.   

Philip picked a small wet shred of loose cigarette paper from his tongue and rolled it between his fingers.  “What is it?”

“Can we get some air?”

They walked side by side in silence through the city park, large boulders jutting up through green earth.  Philip tried to take her hand, but her nerves overrode the desire for intimacy, and she fidgeted instead with her skirt.  Under their feet stretched sinewy trails of brilliant autumn yellows, reds, and greens.  “It’s good to be outside,” Alexis remarked breathily. 

“You’re not chilly?”  Philip lowered his arm around her, his hand caressing the shoulder of her fitted midnight blue dress shirt, adorned simply with white pearl buttons.

Alexis shook her head absently.  Philip frowned. “I hate to see you so pensive.  Are you going to see your father today?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied vacantly.  Without much regard for her companion, she walked listlessly, blankly staring at passing couples, mothers and their children.  She watched a young man and woman sitting on a black wrought-iron bench beneath a maple tree.  The woman’s small red lips were spread into a sweet smile, her face pretty beneath a wavy frame of golden curls.  The young man
beamed back at her. They looked grateful for each other.

Before she understood the incendiary nature of the words collecting at her tongue, Alexis said, “What would you say if I said I wanted to go in my father’s place to New Guinea?”  Her eyes swept sideways across the wooded park, looking at nothing.  She heard wet gravel crunc
h beneath Philip’s shoe.  He’d stopped behind her and she could feel the heaviness of his gaze against her shoulders.

Lowering her head, she turned slowly and lifted her eyes to him.  He looked as though she’d said a string of words he’d hoped he would never hear.  He looked as though she’d crossed a line.  A line she now knew had always been there. 
His eyes were dark empty pools.  His jaw flexed.  Shoving a hand into his pocket, he snorted ironically and shook his head. 

“Are you serious, Alexis?”  

“I’m asking you what you think,” she responded, her chest rising slightly.

Philip whistled, a strange shadow passing over his eyes.
  He bent to the ground purposefully, as though he’d found an object they’d been searching for on their walk.  Between his thumb and index finger he plucked a dewy yellow Sycamore leaf from the ground and spun it by its slender stem.  “Do you think this is the best time?” he said finally.

“No, of course not.  But it’s my father’s wish, and it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.  I just want to know that I
would have your support.”

Philip coughed, rubbed his eyes, and lifted his gaze skyward.  He seemed lost for a moment, as though uncommonly struck with the predicament of having no clear answers.  “So, this is a theoretical discus
sion we’re having then,” he returned, his tone cautious.

Alexis chewed her lip.  It had been theoretical, if just for a moment, even now.  But she watched Philip fidget, play along, searching for the right words. 
He’s squirming again
, she thought.  His cowardice infuriated her.  She wanted to split him open and watch the truth spill out.  “No,” she said, her voice hard.  “This isn’t theoretical.  I want to know how you feel, because I want to go in my father’s place.”

Philip lowered his head and let his eyes take in the small woman who stood defiant, out of reach, though just a few feet away.  His voice, strangely high, dispatched into awkward laughter.  “I have to say, Alexis, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”  He raked his fingers through his hair and paced across the narrow path.  He laughed again.  “Well, I’ll tell you now that I will never allow it, not if you want to be a part of my life.”  He shifted his weight forward, as though to punctuate the sentiment with the force of his body.  His lips curled, and Alexis could not tell if it was with malice or with regret.

Her insides coiled, and she felt sick and alone against the backdrop of the picturesque autumn day.  “I can’t believe you said that,” she said, her throat closing around the words. 

Philip neared her with his body bent
low.  “You can’t believe it?  Really?  I find
that
hard to believe.  After all this time I’ve done nothing but indulge your whims.  All the academics, all the work.  You have no idea what I’ve gone through among friends and family who see you as little more than a troublesome woman with silly ideas.  I’m amazed at how little tact and thought you have on the matter.”

Alexis’ mouth dropped.  “So it was just an act on your part?”

His eyes rolled, and he snickered.  “Do you really want to know the truth?”

Alexis raised her shoulders unconsciously.
  Was it a trick question?  “Yes, of course.”

“I wanted you to want...” Philip threw his hands to the sky, his voice high and frustrated. “I wanted you to want the life I have to offer you.  I’ve loved you for so long, I’ve put up with so much.  I wanted you to forget your work.  You didn’t honestly think you could keep carrying on the way you do.  Did you?”  

Alexis recoiled, her eyes narrowing to slits.  “What?”

“I mean, what
exactly are you trying to prove?” He shook his head, disgust trembling beneath the tightly controlled exterior of his jaw.

Alexis’ fists balled tightly, her knuckles white.  “Prove?  I’m proving nothing!  Why does doing what I love have to be some kind of statement?”  Her voice rose, and the enchanted young couple on the bench turned their heads.  She buried her face in her hands.  “I just don’t understand, Philip.  If who I am is so repugnant to you, why on earth would you want to be with me?”

Philip moved to allow a pair of happy cyclists by, the thin tires gummed with fallen, wet leaves.  He swung his head back and forth, his jaw set and angled sharply by a frown.  “Alexis, I don’t know how to answer that.  You love a person because you can’t help it.  I love you because I can’t help it.  That’s not to say I don’t wish you would try a little harder to fit in.”

“You could’ve had hundreds of women, all of them who fit in marvelously
.
”

“None of them were you,” Philip said, the shortness of tone negating the feeling of his words.

“So you want me because I’m unlike the other women, but now you want me to be one of them?”

“This isn’t one-sided, Alexis.  I could ask the same of you.  You know precisely what I come from.  What were you expecting?”

“Well, I only expected you to continue being the person you’ve apparently only played.  I definitely never imagined you’d want me to give up what I love.”  She looked him dead in the eyes, her legs began to shake.  She glanced at the lovers on the bench and they averted their gaze with an obvious suddenness.  Folding her arms tightly around her, she cast a reproachful glance at Philip.  “God, I’m such an idiot.”

She spun around and started back.  “Alexis!” he called as he chased her.  He was breathing heavily now, his eyes darting anxiously.  For the first time he had no idea what to say.  She had called his bluff, and he had failed.  “Alexis, please.”  He grabbed her arms, and held her in place.  “I want to make this
work.  Don’t do this to me.  To us.”

Alexis shook her head.  She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.  She saw it in his face.  It was marred with regret.  But regret about what?  Not having
her?
Or not having the perfect girlfriend?  Grunting in frustration she shoved him away.

“Leave me alone, Philip,” she ordered, practically at a gallop now.  “It’s done.”  Hugging herself as she charged ahead, she heard his footsteps slow and disappear.  She didn’t look back.  It was over.  And she was alone now.

***

From the wide, uneven stones of the front stoop, Alexis watched the
black bellies of clouds grow pregnant.  The long strands of the beach glass wind chime tangled and clicked softly against each other in the sudden violent gusts of warm air.   All at once the seams of the clouds burst, and fat, tepid drops plunged to the ground.  She folded her knees under her chin and waited, losing herself in the distinct aroma of rainfall kicking up the loose earth, wetting the asphalt. 

The days since she left Philip standing in the park were fuzzy, like a shell of reality, sounds and images muted around her as she trudged forward.  Her eyes were dark and sunken, her body weak and lethargic.  She hadn’t left the house.  She clung to it like the base of a tree in a mammoth tempest indiscriminately sweeping up the parts of her life.

She’d replayed the events of the last week a million times.  She imagined her father, his decrepit body holding him hostage among the depressed, white walls of the hospital.  She remembered the morning she had met Philip for coffee.  She had wanted to confide in him the turmoil of doubt her father had stirred with his proposition.  That it was everything she had ever dreamed of, rebelled towards, and that when she was handed the opportunity she savagely wished for, nothing but empty cowardice stood in her way.  She wanted to entrust to Philip the very secrets she had kept hidden from herself. 

She remembered the wa
lk in the park, and the bitterness in the moment she understood she’d been nothing but a fool to think she’d found a friend and a lover who admired her, respected her and wished for her happiness, regardless of the attention it drew.  She heaved with nausea at the revelation that she’d been little more than lump of clay he was hoping to shape into a suitable piece.  In her mind’s eye, she saw his face, twisted with disgust as he uttered, “I’ve put up with so much.” 

She’d always known that most people mocked her.  Somehow her father had managed to make her life seem normal.  Now she had no one to shield her from the ugly truth that her happiness was a joke.  For the first time in her life she truly felt the crippling loneliness of her existence in the margins.
Her heart seemed to tip from the wall of her chest and crack against the cold indifferent stone beneath her.  Alexis felt her throat open around a sob, and she clenched her body, fighting to keep it down. 

She wondered what her life would be like had she been brought up differently.  If she had followed the deeply tread path of the women of her age, and all those before her.  Would she have been happier?  Would she have felt less lonely if she were the kind of woman who sat easily among a family like the Talbots?  She grasped a thick strand of her damp ringlets and wound it round her finger.

Behind her she heard the door creak open.  Marion poked her head through the crack, her eyes squinting to make out the pathetic figure at the foot of the steps.  “Alexis,” she called, her voice high and uncertain.  Alexis didn’t bother to acknowledge her.   “Alexis,” she tried again.  “Philip is on the line.  What shall I tell him?”