I'll Be Seeing You (12 page)

"Hello, Maddie," I answer, exhausted.

"Hi, Matthew. Something’s wrong with Joy. She won't come out of her apartment, and Laura says she looks really bad. She told me not to say anything to you, but do you know what’s wrong with her?" She asks without taking a breath. "She can’t keep anything down, so she won't eat."

"What’s Laura doing for her? Did she take her to see her doctor? Did you give her water?" I ask, thinking she may be dehydrated.

"She won't take anything. She won't drink anything either. What the hell happened, Matthew?"

"I would take her to Urgent Care. It sounds like she could be exhausted and dehydrated. Get Brian to carry her out of that apartment if necessary. But lock up Conrad first, he may get angry if Joy is kicking and fighting," I suggest, looking at my watch. "I don't get in until the day after tomorrow. Take her to the doctor, and let me know what they say, will you? Call me as soon as you hear anything, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Matthew. I’ll get Brian over here now and call you as soon as I hear anything.”

After dinner with my parents, all I can think about is Joy. Maddie texted me and it’s what I figured, Joy is severely dehydrated and depressed.

I spend the following day shopping, sightseeing and going to the Guggenheim with my parents, then to the theater to see Phantom of the Opera. It was difficult to hide the fact I was thinking of Joy the entire day, but I believe everyone had a good time nonetheless.

After saying my farewells to my parents the following morning, I can't get home fast enough. Landing six hours later, I turn my cell back on, and there’s a text waiting from Maddie.

Joy’s in the hospital. Harborview. ~ Maddie

"Fuck," I spew out loud.

"What is it?" Jessie asks, looking at me, frowning.

"Joy's in the hospital. I need to go there first. If you don't want to come with me, you'll have to get your own cab," I say, handing my bag off to the driver, telling him to get me to Harborview.

After arriving at Joy's room, what I see lying before me makes my stomach turn. She’s white as a sheet and gaunt.

"What the hell, Maddie?" 

"She's been throwing up stomach bile. She can't eat or drink anything because she only throws it up. She was disoriented in her apartment. Laura said that she knew her apartment just as much as we know our own homes, but she was literally walking into furniture," Maddie explains. "Did you talk to her at all?"

"No,” I answer, angry at myself for not contacting her.

"She's bad. See if you can get her to respond to you." Looking behind me, Jessie and Laura are watching over her. Her body is tiny under the lightweight hospital blanket.

"Maddie, go see if you can get her another blanket. She has to be freezing. Make sure they warm it for her." I walk over to her and see her lifeless body, and if I didn't know any better, one would think she was dead.

"Joy, what are you doing, baby?" I whisper to her and stroke her forehead. I lean down and kiss her cold cheek. I hear a faint whimper.

"Joy, can you hear me? It's Matthew," I say, laying my cheek against hers.

"Matthew, what the hell?" Jessie says quietly, walking up to the other side of the bed. "She looks bad," he says, pulling her blanket up higher on her shoulder.

"I know." I kiss her cheek again. "Joy, open your eyes."

"Dude, she can't see, remember?" Jessie says, giving me a dumb look.

"I would give you an equally stupid answer, but I'm too tired and worried about her to bother. I just want to know if she's awake."

"Joy, baby, please say something," I encourage her.

"Matthew?" she whispers, barely audible and not moving.

"Yes, it's me. It's Matthew." I lower my forehead to hers, relieved that she spoke to me.

~.~

Two weeks after my return from New York, I make my first trip to the café. I know it's a risk, but one I'm willing to take. It’s my getaway place where I can just sit and enjoy some quiet time away from the office.

Maddie says that Joy’s doing better now. She’s stopped trying to call me, so I presume she has moved on. I hope she's happy. I have to believe that. I need to believe that.

I have a new patient that I will be performing surgery on the following Monday, and I need to focus on reviewing his case. His case is very similar to Peggy Miller's, whose procedure was very successful. She has regained a large portion of her sight already. It will take some time, but I expect she will have full use of her eyesight with the assistance of eyeglasses.

"Hello, Myra," I say, pulling my wallet out of my pocket and laying a ten on the counter.

"Oh, Doctor Davis, I’m so glad to see you," she beams. "I was hoping we would see you again. Miss Joy hasn't been the same. She came in every day, waiting for you, but gave up after a while. I haven't seen her since," she says with a rueful look. I give her a half-assed grin, as if she thinks I will have anything to say to that. I’m wondering why she felt it necessary to even ingratiate herself into my personal life.

Taking my coffee, I make my way over to my regular table and start thumbing through my patient's medical history in preparation for Monday’s surgery. After watching people coming and going through the door for a while, I finally admit I’m looking to see if that next person could possibly be her. My heart doesn't hurt as much anymore, but I still miss her. I find myself wondering what it would have been like to be with her. How far would we have gone? Is she with Scott?

'God, I miss her,' I think to myself. I miss seeing her. I miss her soft-as-velvet hands. I could have loved her.

Who am I kidding? I was already in love with her. I’m in love with her still. I knew it the moment I walked away from her. My hands find their way through my hair, leaving it in total chaos.

Taking a sip of my now cold coffee, I glance at my watch. Gathering my papers, I tuck my file under my arm, and take my half-empty coffee cup to the counter for Myra.

"See you tomorrow, Doctor?" she asks.

"Thanks for everything, Myra," I say, not answering, but when I turn, I bump into a small figure.

"Matthew?" she says quietly.

"H … hello, Joy," I reply, swallowing hard. It's harder than I thought it would be to see her again. "You're looking well," I say politely.

"Matthew, please, I need to talk to you for just five minutes. Can you give me five minutes?"

Tugging on my arm, she pulls me to her table. I let out a sigh and realize we need to get this over with.

"All right, Joy," I say and walk toward her table, sitting across from her and Conrad.

"Where's Scott?" I don't know why I asked that because I really don't care where Scott is. It sounded incredibly immature ... even to me.

"No, we …" she says shaking her head, and I can hear her voice crack. "Matthew, please tell me what I've done. I know I did something, and it's killing me not knowing what." Looking at her, her eyes are swimming in tears that are ready to break and fall down her pale cheeks. She still has dark circles under her eyes.

"Joy …"

I don't want to open a healed wound, and each time I look at her that wound opens a little bit more.

"What did I do? What did I do, Matthew? Please tell me. Was it something I said? What I didn't say? I can't imagine what it could possibly be. You have to ease my mind and this pain in my heart. I can't get over you until I know that, whatever I did, was worth you not wanting me anymore."

That does it. The tears break their seal, and they’re now flowing down her gaunt cheeks. Handing her a tissue, I look around to see if anyone is listening.

"Joy..." I begin. "Joy, that day when you and Scott came in here, I realized that there was someone else out there for you. Someone else wanted you and you deserve to be happy and … fuck … not that I couldn't make you happy, because I know I could have. When I saw you two holding hands, hugging and then the kiss, it dawned on me that you already had someone that wanted you besides me. You already knew him, and you looked happy with him and, well … that's it," I say, running my hand through my hair, yet again. "So, I need to get back to the office. It was good seeing you and … you look really pretty today," I say, getting up.

"Matthew, I'd like to say one more thing before you go,” she says shyly. “That morning, I had just told Scott that I … well … this isn't how I wanted to tell you, or have you find out."

My heart nearly sinks to a new low. What else could she possibly have to say that could make it hurt more than it already does?

"Whatever it is, Joy, either say it or let me leave because honestly, I can't do much more of this."

"That morning, I had just told Scott that I was in love with you, and there was nothing he could do to change that. I told him that either he stop playing these games, or I was off the book project." Looking at her, she’s hiding her face, so no one will see her crying. "When you saw us, he was telling me that we would remain friends, and he promised he would stop pursuing me. He wished me luck with my relationship with you," she says into her lap. I didn't think her chin could tuck into her chest much more than it is right now.

"Oh, Joy," I say quietly, staring at her.

What do I do now? I’m so torn. This has brought back memories of Emma so close to the surface again.

"Joy," I say, sitting back down across from her. "This whole thing has drummed up deep feelings and emotions that I thought were long gone. I need to sort through that, all right? I have to prepare for surgery on Monday, and I'm going away for the weekend. We’ll talk when I get back, all right?"

"Matthew?" she says quietly.

"Yes?"

"You won't do with anyone this weekend what you did with me, will you?" she asks timidly, still not looking up. I'm sure that was really hard for her to say.

"No. I promise." I answer, meaning it. She’s still looking at her hands. "Good-bye, Joy."

Stroking the back of her hair, running a thick strand through my fingertips, I lean in to kiss her forehead.

"We'll talk when I get back, all right?"

"All right," she responds through tears.

As soon as I turn to walk out the door, a deep sob escapes that I believe she had been holding inside. Looking at her through the window, I see Myra sitting next to her, wrapping her in a comforting hug.

I look back again, and her usually happy face is full of sadness and pain and as I turn toward my office, I can’t help but turn and look back once more. Standing there, I watch her heart break in front of me and I know what I need to do.

As soon as I open the door, she knows it is me and her head jerks up, and she waits.

"Joy?" I say, waiting for Myra to leave.

"What," she replies with sadness that I never want to see or hear again.

"Come here, baby," I say, pulling her into my arms. Her arms latch around my waist so tight I think she’ll never let go. "We still need to talk, all right?" I say, into her hair.

"Yes. But I can't bear it if you quit talking to me forever, Matthew."

"Okay, why don't I come over tonight? I'll bring Chinese and we’ll talk, all right?"

A deep heavy sigh escapes her, and she squeezes my waist tighter still, nodding her head against my chest. All I can do is hold her.

"All right, I'll be over at six thirty, okay?" I ask, escorting her and Conrad through the door.

"Okay, Matthew," she replies, as we uncomfortably part ways; she, going to the right and I, going to the left.

I think I need to tell her about Emma.

After speaking to Matthew at the café, I call my best friend. Like the rock she is, Laura comes over to help me sort through this.

"So, what time is he coming over?" Laura asks, lying next to me on my bed, running her fingers through my hair.

"Six thirty," I answer lazily.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asks, brushing the hair from my face.

"Yes. I just want to get this over with. Clearly, there was a misunderstanding on his part, and we just need to talk this out. Whether he wants to move forward or not, it's up to him, but I, at least, want to part as friends." Trying not to cry, I can't recall my heart hurting like this since my parents died.

"If it's any consolation, he’s been hurting too. Really bad. From what Jessie says, he hasn't been himself since all of this happened." Laura, in her own attempt to make me feel better, only confuses the issue.

"I just don't know why he didn't have enough faith in us to come and talk to me," I ponder aloud. "Maybe there wasn't enough of us to put his faith into."

"No, I am certain there's enough. Oh, I don't know. I know he cares for you, babe. I’m certain he was falling in love with you," Laura points out, trying to rationalize this stupid, fucked-up mess.

"You know, Joy, everyone reacts to a broken heart differently. Now that I've seen what happens to you, you're not allowed to have another one. You scared the living shit out me." She wraps her arms around me, holding me closer.

“I know, huh? I've never had one before, other than when my parents died. I know I was sad then, but the physical reaction to this situation scared even me. If I'm unlucky enough to have another, I'll know better and will be better prepared mentally," I promise myself.

"Oh, god, who am I kidding? I'm in love with him, Laura," I say out loud for the first time and bury my face in my pillow.

"Oh, hon. Are you sure?" she asks, hugging me.

"Yep, I'm sure. We haven't talked about our feelings for each other and all these emotions running amuck are what brought us here."

"I think that’s your remedy to your broken heart. You are a communicator. You’re at peace when you verbalize your inner thoughts. Once you tell Matthew what’s going on inside, you will be at peace enough to move forward; whether it's with or without him."

"You’re right. I think tonight is going to be about truth. I want to know everything he’s feeling and vice versa." Feeling a little more confident about my meeting with Matthew now, I want him to know everything whether it ends badly or not.

"Okay, I'm glad you’re feeling better, sweetie, but I need to get to the store to prepare for Black Friday. What are you doing for Thanksgiving, by the way?" she asks, sitting up.

"No plans," I say, sadly. Until now, all my thoughts had been around spending the holiday season with Matthew.

"Okay, it's you, me and Brian. Probably Maddie, too, since her parents are in Chicago. Is that going to be weird for you?  Matthew’s sister?  Whatever, we can make a fun day of it, right?" I appreciate that she’s trying to feign the holiday spirit.

"Okay," I answer, smiling at her. "Let me walk you to the door. I need to let Conrad out anyway, and then I'm taking a long, hot bath." I need to do something to get out of the funk I'm in. "You know I couldn’t have a better best friend, right?"

"Eh, except for you, that is. Now go get yourself all prettied up for him. At least make him see what he will be missing if this doesn't work out for you both." I can’t help but giggle and nod my head in agreement.

After letting Conrad run around for a bit, we head back upstairs where I start a hot bath and plan what I’ll wear tonight. It has to be something good that makes me feel pretty. I opt for black leggings, a short purple and black striped sweater-dress with flat, black ballet slippers. I want to exude confidence when I talk to him. Tonight is the night I lay all my cards on the table.

Walking across the room to my dresser, I search for something to make me feel sexy and confident to wear under the dress. Deciding on the purple with black lace bra and panty set, I silently thank Laura for some of the finest and sexiest underwear.

~.~

She’s in love with me? That's a new revelation. She was telling Scott it wasn't him she wanted, but me? What a complete moron I am. By the look of that very private and seemingly intimate conversation, it appeared that she deeply cared for him. Not only did I jump to the wrong conclusion, I didn't give her a chance to explain a single word of it. Not very bright for someone who is college educated.

Yes, we definitely need to talk this out.

Shaking my head free from my inner chastisement, I get back to work, reviewing the patient files on my desk. I need to focus on the task at hand; my upcoming surgery.

After making my afternoon rounds, I head home for a long, hot shower. It feels good to relax knowing I will see her tonight. Other than my plan to tell her about Emma, I have no idea what’s in store for the evening. An apology to start is always a good place to begin, I guess.

After shaving, I splash on her favorite cologne and step into my favorite jeans, a forest green V-neck sweater, and I'm ready to go.

Although a lot has happened between Joy and me over the past month, I’m actually looking forward to seeing her. I know we have a tough night ahead of us, but just seeing her again will be good for my soul.

Parking my car in front of her building, I get nervous knots in my stomach with the uncertainty of what this night may bring. Will we work it out or part as friends?

"We shall soon find out," I say, pushing the button for her apartment.

"Yes," her sad voice says over the intercom. It breaks my heart hearing that tone come from her. What's even worse is knowing it was me that caused it.

"It's Matthew," I respond, not sure what else to say. She doesn't reply, but simply releases the lock to the entry door.

When I reach her apartment door, my stomach is too nervous to think about eating the take-out I picked up for dinner, but I suck it up and knock anyway. It takes a noticeably long time for her to answer and I wonder if she's as nervous as I am. Of course she is, you idiot. My heart palpitates when she slowly opens the door.

"Hey," I say hesitantly.

"Hey," she returns and I can see she is extremely nervous.

I walk into the apartment and across the room to set the food on the kitchen counter — the very same counter where I enjoyed her only a few short weeks ago. My stomach twists even more. When I turn, she’s still standing in the same spot and I can see the sadness in her face. My heart aches for her. When did I fall for this slip of a girl? What is it about her that has captured my heart? I slowly cross the room to stand in front of her.

"You look beautiful," I begin, kissing the top of her head, running my hands up and down her arms, wanting to hold her. "I’m sorry, Joy. I jumped to the wrong conclusion, and I've hurt you … badly." I clear my throat to mask the anguish in my voice. My heart is aching for her, seeing her broken like this. “Can you forgive me?”

She rests her forehead against my chest, and when I move to wrap my arms around her, she steps away from me.

That’s not good.

"I'm in love with you," she says, almost inaudibly.

She should be happy saying this, so why do I still feel this ache?

Overwhelmed and pleased, my eyes close upon hearing her say those words.  Inhaling deeply, I take a leap of faith. "I'm in love with you, too," I reply, stepping towards her.

I'm shocked at how easy it is to say the words, releasing the bottled-up feelings I've been fighting for the last two weeks. Her arms wrap around me, but I can tell there’s still something wrong. It saddens me that we announce our declarations to one another under these circumstances.

"What is it?" I ask, pushing her back from me so I can see her face.

"I may be in love with you, but it doesn't mean I'm happy. I'm disappointed that this has even happened," she says, turning away from me. She sits in her oversized chair rather than the couch, which I am certain, is so that I can't sit next to her.

"All right," I say, resolutely. "So, what do we do now?" I ask, putting the ball in her court. I will do whatever she wants.

"I don't know what to do. You got angry when Brian hugged me, then possessive when Scott appeared on the scene. Don’t get me wrong, he was clearly trying to rile you, but you let him.

"I know. I can't help it, Joy. I'm possessive by nature and don't like any other man touching my girl," I confess. "It's been hard for me not knowing where we stand. I didn't even know if there was an us,” I admit, taking a seat on the couch, closest to her. She has her head bowed with her chin digging into her chest again. I watch her nervously fidget her hands on her lap.

"Is it always going to be like this? Every time you see me talking to another man? Are you going to make me defend myself and make me worry whether you are upset because of it? If it is, I don't want it. I’m in love with you, yes, but I don't even know you, really. I fell in love with a man that sat across the café. The same man that when he opened the door to come through it, I knew it was him by the sound of his shoes, and by his smell. His voice when he spoke to Myra made me weak." Her brow furrows and she clearly has a lot to get off her chest. “That man is you, Matthew, but you get mad at me a lot and I don’t understand what kind of relationship it is that you want”

"No, it's not always going to be like this," I answer. "I'm sorry I've made you doubt me. It's the last thing I wanted to do." I’m leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and my head hanging below my shoulders.

"I don't know what else to say, Matthew. I don't want to sit here and browbeat you, but I told you early on that I'm a communicator, and it's terribly difficult to communicate with someone that won't take my calls or when I have to resort to following him to his workplace, he kicks me out of his building. Do you know how embarrassing it was to ask Myra to call me when you came to the café, just so that I could derail you today?"

Wow, she's on a roll. She's really pissed, and I love seeing this side of her — this passion.

"I was hurt, too, Joy. I mean, there I was, sitting across the room, and you didn't even know I was there, and—”

"Now, wait one fucking minute," she shouts, moving to sit at the edge of her seat. "Don't you dare blame my impairment for not knowing you were there. Scott said you looked directly at me, yet you left without saying a word. Explain that!"

"Like I said, it may have been misplaced, but if you could see what I saw, you might have a little compassion. I saw my girl, with a man on his knees, between her thighs no less. The very place I was at just the night before. Your thighs hold a special place in my heart, Joy," I say, reaching out to take her hand from her lap. "And then he hugged you. He squeezed you tight to him, didn't he?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Well, that little hug is a man's trick, Joy. That's what a guy does to feel a woman's breasts against his chest. The oldest trick in the book," I explain. Dropping her hand, I begin pacing the room.

"Then, you kissed his cheek. It wasn't just a peck either. It was a lip-to-cheek-lingering kiss. It was at least three seconds. That's long in cheek-kissing time." Reluctantly, she grins.

"Then you whispered something really close to his face. God knows what you said, but it didn't matter at that point. I'd seen enough to believe that, considering you didn't know I was there, perhaps you cared for him slightly more than I believed you did me. It hurt, Joy." Running my hands through my hair again, I make a total mess of it.

"When I got the call from Maddie that you weren't feeling well, I kept tabs on you. It wasn't until I returned home that I got the text to say you were in the hospital. As soon as my plane landed, I went straight there. I needed to know you were going to be okay but as for everything else, nothing had changed. In my mind’s eye, I still saw you with Scott," I’m pacing circles around her living room furniture, and her face follows me as I talk.

"So, here we are," she says.

"Here we are," I repeat, and stop my pacing to look at her.

"Where do we go from here?" she asks.

"I don’t know. Look, there is something you need to know about what happened to me before I met you that might help you understand why I reacted the way I did.”  I place my hands under her chin rubbing my thumbs along her cheekbones and let out a deep sigh. “I have to tell you about Emma,"

She places her hands on top of mine and gives me a warm, comforting smile.  Lifting her face up to mine, I gently cover her mouth with mine.

"Before I do, let’s eat first, all right?"

"All right."

While I arrange the various cartons around the table, Joy gets the plates and forks. After I grab two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, I place them on the table. Not certain if she wants to sit close to me, I take a seat across from her.

"I missed you," I say, reaching out to take hold of her hand.

"I missed you, too," she replies with a sad smile. "I really did."

"Come here," I say getting up and pulling her up with me needing to touch her … to hold her.