Authors: Kimball Lee
Chapter Nine
I lay in a comfortable room in an outpatient center with warmed blankets draped over me and an IV in my arm. John sat holding my hand and neither of us spoke. Dr. Rice came in with a nurse and said it was time to start. The nurse emptied a syringe into the IV and my head began to buzz.
When I woke the nurse was speaking and patting my hand, “Time to wake up, come on hon, deep breaths, that’s right big breaths, you did fine, let’s sit you up.”
My head cleared and I felt only a slight cramping. As I sat the blankets fell around my ankles and revealed a good deal of blood on the sheet.
John walked in, he was clearly upset and there were sweat stains under the arms of his shirt.
“Buddy,” I said as the nurse removed the soiled sheet and handed me a fresh one, “You’re sweating, have you been running?”
“Running? I’ve been losing my mind worrying about you, they stuck that needle in your arm and…oh, fuck!” he said when he saw the blood. “Do you need the doctor? You’re bleeding, I think I’m gonna faint.”
He sat down and put his face in his hands, he was thoroughly green.
We drove toward home and the cramping had gotten pretty bad, “We should fill this prescription,” I said, “I may need something for pain.”
He used the drive through window at Walgreen’s and I took the prescription bottle out of the bag.
“Damn, I can’t take Vicodin it kills my stomach, pull over, please.”
“That’s pretty good stuff,” John said. “Maybe if you eat something first, buddy.”
“Park here for a minute I want to call Dr. Rice’s nurse, surely there’s something else she can prescribe.” I made the call and hung up. “She’s going to call in some Tramadol, would you mind going in and asking them to put a rush on it, I’m pretty uncomfortable.”
“Sure I will, sweetie, what else do you need?”
“A bottle of water I guess, I have some Motrin in my purse I’m going to take a handful now.”
“I’ll put the fear of God in that pharmacist,” he said, grinning, “and I’ll be right back with the water. Hey, can I keep these?”
He held up the bottle of Vicodin, I reclined the seat and curled into a ball, “Sure, I don’t care.”
At home I went straight upstairs, put on my nightgown, took a Tramadol and climbed into bed with a heating pad. John wanted to be sure I ate something and I said soup and crackers would do. I asked him to close the drapes first and I hugged the heating pad to my belly. John headed down to the kitchen and Linda called with news about the carriage house.
“We have a counter offer from Jana’s agent, she’s not budging much but they responded quickly so I think we can raise the offer a bit and close the deal.”
My head was starting to feel fuzzy from the pain pill I’d taken on an empty stomach, I needed to talk fast and hang up.
“Okay, raise it twenty thousand and be sure she knows that’s my final offer. Otherwise she can wait to see if my house sells and I might not be interested by then. If she’s smart she’ll take the sure thing. That’s the best I can do, in fact it’s going to put me in a cash bind for a while, I can manage it, but not a penny more.”
“Well, she just might jump on it so let me see what I can do. You sound a little sleepy, you okay doll?”
“John got home yesterday, zero sleep last night, I’m taking a quick nap,” I lied, not wanting to feed the local gossip mill.
“You two,” she giggled. “Ya’ll are like a couple of teenagers, I’m jealous! I’ll try to have an answer tomorrow and don’t forget we’ve got three showings on your place, but the first one isn’t until noon so go ahead and sleep late.”
John came in with the soup, crackers and a Diet Coke arranged prettily on a tray, he was glassy eyed. I thought the mad dash from Las Vegas to San Antonio must’ve caught up with him.
“You better climb in here with me, buddy, you look ready to drop.”
He smiled, got out of his clothes and was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.
I shook my head and smiled, took a bite of soup and dropped the spoon, “John this soup isn’t even cooked!”
He slept on.
***
We did sleep late the next morning, when the doorbell rang at ten thirty I opened my eyes, looked at the clock and sat straight up.
“John, John,” I shook him fiercely; he grumbled and opened bloodshot eyes. “We need to get up, come on; someone’s at the door and people will be here to see the house in an hour and a half!”
“I’m up,” he said, weaving as he stood.
The doorbell rang again followed by knocking, “Will you answer that, please?” I said as the phone began to ring.
“Sure,” he said and left the room in boxer briefs and socks.
Linda was on the phone; my offer on the carriage house had been accepted if I could close the next week. “Done,” I told her, “set up escrow and closing and let me know which title company.”
She said I’d need to stop by her office and initial the price change ASAP.
I hung up ready to jump in the shower when John came in with an enormous smile, carrying a Diet Coke and a FedEx box.
“I love the undies and socks look,” I said, shaking my head. “Whatcha got in the box, buddy?”
He grinned, handed me the box and said, “Open it.” I tore off the wrapping and a men’s shoe box was inside. He opened my Diet Coke, took a drink, his eyes twinkled.
“Shoes?” I said.
He motioned for me to open the box. I removed the top, folded back some tissue and there were rows and rows of yellow poker chips. I looked at him and held out my hands like,
what the hell?
He picked up the box and dumped it on the bed, “That’s money; the money I won in Vegas. Your old man is in the chips for real!”
I picked up one of the yellow chips; it said
Harrah’s
and $1000. I ran my hands through the mass of chips and said, “Are you kidding, are these real, are you insane? You sent these through the mail, you
are
joking aren’t you, come on?”
He laughed and plopped down on the bed, scooped some of them up and let them fall onto my lap.
“My God, how much is this?”
“Ummm, a couple of hundred thousand,” he said.
“You won two hundred thousand dollars in a day or two in Las Vegas, how’s that possible?”
“I bet big, I won big— told ya I’m a high roller now.
Harrah’s
is ready to kiss my ass and the other casinos will be, too. All told I won about two hundred eighty thousand but I paid Jimmy for the car and cashed out some chips before I hit the road.”
“John, what are you, a savant? This is huge!”
“Am I a what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Never mind, I need a Xanax, come on, gather these up, I’ll make the bed. We need to hurry, people are coming to look at the house, we’ve gotta get dressed and get out.” I started toward the bathroom and turned around, “For God’s sake, don’t leave those lying around!” I said with an enormous grin that wouldn’t go away.
***
John waited in the car, jamming to Eddie Vedder while I ran in to Linda’s office to initial changes to the contract.
“Can you believe it, honey?” she gushed. “You’re gonna have the neatest place in town, I thought of you the minute that carriage house came on the market but I had no idea you were thinking of buying. You want the key so you can show John?”
I hadn’t thought of that, showing him the new place.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Are you sure it’s alright? I can bring the key right back to you.”
“Oh sure, it’ll be yours in a few days anyway; we won’t be showing it anymore. Here’s the key, keep it, unless you change your mind.”
“No, no, I love it and really it was a fantastic deal; a place downtown with river access in my price range, that will never happen again.”
“Isn’t that the truth? I would love to live down there but that greedy ex-husband of mine won’t even help with the girl’s college tuition. No one ever tells you how expensive it is to raise kids, but we probably wouldn’t have any if we knew all that goes with it… oh, Cate.” She looked like she wished she hadn’t said that. Her younger daughter was in the same class as Brooks and they had been friends since preschool.
“Your girls at SMU aren’t they?” I asked, determined to sweep her comments aside and get out of her office and on with my life. “I bet they’re having a blast, are they all into the sorority thing? Be sure and tell Lindsay I said hello.”
She seemed relieved not to have stirred up any bad memories. Funny, how people try so hard to keep you from thinking of your missing child, believing that if they don’t mention it, if they dance around the subject, you won’t have to relive it. When the fact is, it’s always right there, screaming to get out, you’re always thinking about it, no matter what.
John was still rocking out in the car.
I turned the music off, leaned the seat back and told him I needed a minute, my stomach was upset.
“Sweetie, are you okay, we need to get you home, are you sick, what can I do?”
“Nothing, it’ll pass, probably a reaction to the anesthesia. I just need to lie down,” I said. “The cramps are not as bad but I’m still bleeding.”
“Oh, do you need to sit on a towel or something?”
“John, I have a mattress between my legs and plenty more in my purse.”
“A mattress?” He stared at me, uncomprehending.
I swear the man was clueless, I bet he failed kindergarten. And not for the first time, the thought crossed my mind,
buddy, what planet are you from
?
“
Pads
John, sanitary pads, giant Kotex. Don’t worry, I won’t soil your new car.”
“I’m sorry, buddy, I don’t care about the car, I just don’t know too much about girl things.”
“Oh, I think you know plenty about girl’s things.”
“Hey, don’t twist my words and I don’t do any tricks, I just try to use my natural born assets the best way I know how.”
“Hmm, well somebody must have been a good little boy and practiced every single day with that thunderbolt the god’s blessed you with.” I laughed and he turned red and wouldn’t look at me. I scooted my arm toward his on the center console until we were touching, nudging him a little.
He grinned and said, “You know me too well, nobody gets inside my head the way you do.”
“Let’s go to the park,” I said. “We can’t go back to the house for a while and it’s nice out today, we can lie on the grass and stare at the clouds.”
“I’m good with that and guess what? I’ve got a great quilt in the back of the car.”
“Did you really buy a quilt and sleep in the car?”
“No,” he said, “I borrowed one from the bed at the
Bellagio
.”
And in fact he had, a gorgeous Pratesi duvet with a goose down comforter inside.
“John, you have to send this back, my God, do you how much this is worth? They’re going to send the sheriff after you.”
“They don’t care, buddy, besides I slipped the maid a twenty, she was totally cool with it.”
“You worry me,” I said, “you can’t just take whatever you want, that’s not how it works and if it was there would be chaos.”
“It’s not a big deal, sweetie, and I know you’ve always kind of lived like they say, “In an ivory tower.” But in the real world, shit gets pretty real. And come on, you liked it when I got us upgraded to first class, it isn’t hurting anyone if I get a bonus buy now and then. I always tip the poor bastard who’s working for peanuts, so we’re both better off.”
I shook my head trying to absorb his convoluted logic. “Cate, you know how you tell me I’m like a big kid, well, you are too in some ways. The world takes what it wants from you and it doesn’t say please, at some point it’s fair to take something back.”
I refused to lay that exquisite duvet on the ground so we spread it out in the back of the Range Rover and crawled in. I told John about Seaside and when he realized it was the perfect little town where the movie
The Truman Show
was filmed he got excited and, of course, he was “blown away!” I listed the multitude of tasks I had to take care of in the next week and asked if he was sure he could stay away from his building business until Christmas. He said he was cool with staying in Florida until whenever, he didn’t have any projects going on in San Antonio.
He needed to spend a day in Austin with his dad, they were going to be partners and a build a house together. He wouldn’t have to stick around, just check on it every couple of months and by the way, his dad was selling his old Mercedes for him. I was caught off guard by all of that, remembering the questionable job his father had done as contractor on his own house and I just didn’t trust Ben Foster. John said it was all good, he’d talked to him about sticking to the house plans and not cutting corners, that it would be a house built exclusively for profit. The money from the sale of the car would go toward purchasing a lot to build on. The thought of being involved financially with that man was unsettling, but John didn’t tell me how to handle my business so I kept my misgivings to myself.
“Alright, buddy,” I said, tugging his hair a little, “Monday’s your big day, remember? Doctor’s office, vasectomy?”