Authors: Sheri Duff
But now Benny’s dragon gains a new power, finding its way into Benny’s heart. Not the one he feels with, the heart that Benny needs to live. Benny lies in surgery and will stay on that cold operating table for the next three to six hours. We’re supposed to wait.
Jack finds a deck of Phase 10 cards in the waiting room. My dad, Alicia, Father Joe, Jack, and I gather at a round table and half-heartily play cards.
Finally, after we spend a couple of hours playing games, pacing the floor, and staring at the wall, the surgical assistant walks into the room. Alicia practically knocks over the table trying to stand up.
The woman, dressed in blue scrubs and a matching shower cap, informs Alicia, “He’s doing okay, but we have a ways to go. We’ve found three blockages.”
Alicia sinks into my father. The surgical assistant talks about grafting and blood flow. None of it makes any sense. I’d google it, but I’m too afraid to find out.
We don’t continue the game. Instead we sit and look everywhere but at each other. My father can’t take it anymore and heads out for coffee. I’d go with him, but I can’t leave Benny.
I force Jack to leave, he needs to sleep. Alicia insists that Father Joe go as well.
Alicia and I sit alone. I don’t know what to do with this, either.
“He tries to do too much, especially for friends,” Alicia says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s always been my best guy friend.”
Is she talking about the priest? My facial expression gives me away.
“I’ve known him since second grade. He’s stood by me through everything. He always knew he’d be a priest. He tried to fight it in high school. He dated, but it never worked.”
I don’t know what to say to any of this.
“You should go home and sleep,” Alicia yawns.
“I couldn’t sleep if I tried,” I say.
“Oh, I could,” Alicia stretches her legs on the couch and closes her eyes.
“I’ll go find a blanket.” My father returns to the room, holding two coffees and a cup of ice water. He sets them down on the table. “Natalie wrote on your cup,” he says. Then he leaves in search of blankets.
I pick up the paper cup covered with grade-school-like decorations. Natalie has drawn a sun with a smiley face. The clouds also have faces that blow the wind around in circles all over the cup. The wind doubles as words. “We love you!!!” they say. Flowers with the same faces as the sun crowd the bottom of the cup in bold colors.
I can see it now. Natalie probably forced my father to take a seat and eat a pastry while she decorated the cup using the crayons set aside for kids. My dad probably tried to sneak out of there, but Natalie would’ve insisted he needed a break and fixed him a coffee in a ceramic mug, forcing him to drink his cup there.
“Natalie sure likes to talk.” My dad comes back into the room. He covers Alicia with the plain white blanket he retrieved from the nurses. Alicia doesn’t budge.
“I know you’re mad at me and I’m sorry,” he says. He doesn’t look at me. He brushes Alicia’s hair out of her face. Then he glances at me.
I stare at him but say nothing.
“What?” he asks.
“Who are you? And what did you do with my father?” I ask.
“Hey, I’m not that bad.” He stands and straightens up the mess on the table.
“You are too,” Alicia speaks in a clear voice. She opens her eyes, pulls herself up, and grabs her coffee. She takes her caffeine and the blanket. “I’m going for a walk.” She kisses my dad on the cheek before leaving the room.
“Okay, so let me have it,” my dad says. He turns to me and crosses his arms.
“Have what?”`
“Tell me why you’re so mad at me.” He knows, but he can’t admit it on his own. He needs help. He knows what he’s done. The problem is that if I tell him the truth, he’ll pout like a small child. But I don’t care anymore. I’m sick of the dragon breathing fire within me. Just because he can’t release his dragon doesn’t mean I can’t release mine. “You cheated on mom.” I glare at him.
“That was two years ago,” he says. He’s looking at me but not really. His eyes are focused on something just past me.
“And that makes it okay?”
“I’ve already tried to apologize to your mom.” He turns away and looks out the window, which has a lovely view of the hall.
“And me?” I walk closer and look out with him. Then I turn to him. He needs to look at me. He needs to see what all of this has done to me.
“It wasn’t about you,” he says, fidgeting with his jacket. Then he turns and walks back to the table.
“Oh, okay. You walked out on me, too. You stopped talking to me, and you let that woman keep you away from me.”
“You weren’t very nice to her.” He turns and looks at me now like he has found a hole in my offensive line that his defense can break.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I needed to be nice to trash.”
“Massie.” If he could look me in the eye and use this tone, I would bend. But he can’t because deep down he knows he’s wrong. And that is why he back up and looks past me again.
“Forget it.” I grab my cup of coffee only because Natalie had created a masterpiece on it, and I walk out of the waiting room.
Not thinking, I take the elevator down to the lobby. I hate elevators. I’m scared the doors will shut and never open. When the door does shut, I bounce back and forth. I tell myself to breathe. “In and out, Massie. Take deep breaths in and out.”
When the door opens I barrel out right into Vianna’s dad and the queen of the stepmonsters, Wendy. “Excuse you,” she says.
I don’t stop. Doesn’t she know that you need to move out of the way so that people can get off the elevator before she can get on?
“At least tell us,” she says, barely making eye contact.
“Are you talking to me?” I look around the room. I can’t believe she’s acting all concerned. She doesn’t even know Benny. And she’s not friends with my father. The only reason they all know each other is because my friends’ parents used to hang out all the time.
Vianna’s dad moves away to answer his phone. That gives Wendy the privacy she needs to explode. “You girls and your attitudes. Your dad’s ready to kill himself over your pathetic mood swings but you don’t care about that, do you?”
I stand with my feet glued to the ground.
“Peter can’t stop worrying that Natalie wants Annabelle dead. And Steve’s devastated that his daughter is giving up on her dream to become a doctor to attend some school in Nebraska to piss him off. I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you all had formed some club to kill your fathers.” She stops talking only because she notices her husband returning. She plasters a phony worried look across her face.
Vianna’s dad walks up still looking down at his phone, “What room is he in?”
“She wouldn’t tell me,” Wendy says.
“214.” I stomp off. Can this day get any worse?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I go back to the house only because I think about the dogs. I’m probably the only one who will remember they need food. I’m not mad. It’s just a fact. Alicia shouldn’t have to worry about anything but her dad. I fill the dog dishes with a scoop of dry kibble. I plop the metal bowls onto the kitchen floor. Buster and Loki sniff at the food, then follow me into the living room. “You miss him too, don’t you?” I say.
Benny had taken over the care of the animals. Either the dogs know Benny’s gone or he’s been adding goodies to their diets. I lay on the couch, pulling a blanket over me. The dogs nestle in. I send Alicia a text.
Me:
Went home to feed the dogs please txt me when your dad is out of surgery
Alicia:
Thank you for taking care of us
As soon as my head hits the pillow, I dream that Alicia leaves my father. This should make me happy, but the part of the dream that jolts me awake is Benny saying goodbye.
The smell of coffee fills the house. Whoever‘s in the kitchen stays quiet, which means it’s Alicia. I’m hoping that’s a good sign. My father can’t keep quiet even when sleeping. When he moves, it’s with force and when he sleeps, he snores. It’s loud.
I pull myself from the couch. I’m alone. The dogs must have ditched me for Alicia. She was nice enough to put a blanket over me. I rub my eyes and shuffle my way toward the caffeine.
“Good morning.” Jack’s voice ricochets from the island.
I jump and turn away. I can only imagine how I look.
Jack doesn’t give me time to wonder. “Wow. Your eyes look like two fried eggs in a slop bucket.”
“Shut up,” I say, covering my face.
“Girl, I’m just playing. If you get ready, I’ll make you breakfast.”
I dart up the stairs. My vanity has gotten the best of me. Then reality sets in and worry takes over. I don’t care what I look like. I run back down to the kitchen.
Jack covers his eyes. “I won’t look. Surgery went well. He’s fine. Alicia won’t leave until he wakes up. I was called to check on you. Oh, and I can’t cook.” Jack pours cereal into a bowl.
“Who called you?”
He peeks through his fingers. “The hair’s kinda sexy, but those eyes, they’re still freaking me out.”
I want to hit him. I want kiss him. But I’m sure my mouth smells rank. It feels like someone shoved a cotton ball in the back of my throat. I run back up the stairs.
The shower feels good. It’s hot. I let the water run over my neck as I scrub my teeth. The couch twisted my entire body out of whack. Maybe Lily called him. My dad wouldn’t do that. A boy in the house with me, alone? No way. Alicia has enough on her mind without worrying about me. I don’t know how long I’ve stood here letting the heat penetrate my muscles. I figure I better wash my hair before the hot water vanishes.
Navy blue sweatpants, a spaghetti-stained Stallion t-shirt, bare feet, no makeup, my hair on top of my head in a ball with pieces sticking out. I gallop down the stairs. If he makes fun of me now, I’ll kick him.
I sit next to Jack. He smells good, coconut without the cinnamon today.“You’re kinda pretty when you clean up.” Jack leans over and kisses my cheek.
His hair has grown, and the curls are sticking out of his cap. I don’t think he’s shaved in a couple of days, either. His whiskers have lost that itchy feel and are soft. He doesn’t look all Duck Dynasty with neck hair or anything, he just looks damn sexy.
“If you could cook, you’d be perfect,” I say, grabbing the gallon of milk and pouring some into my bowl of Raisin Bran. Cooking isn’t on my list, so it really doesn’t matter. He’s wearing a Denver Bronco football jersey with 27 on the front and Atwater on the back. “Like your jersey. Looks like you’ve finally crossed over to the right orange.”
“He’s one of my favorite players,” Jack says.
“He should be in the Hall of Fame,” I say. “I guess six tackles, a sack, and a forced fumble in that Super Bowl don’t mean anything.”
Jack hands me a spoon. “Alicia’s been sending me texts, since you won’t respond.”
I look around for my phone. I go out to the living room. I find it on the couch buried between the cushions. It’s off. I try to turn it back on but the battery’s dead.
The theme song from
Friday Night Lights
pulls Jack’s eyes to his cell phone. The song is his ring tone for all texts.
Jack looks down at his screen. He reads aloud, “Benny woke up long enough to talk briefly.” He stops and looks up at me. His voice cracks. “I just met him. I can’t imagine what Alicia’s going through. He a cool guy.”
I sit back down at the kitchen table. I move the filled spoon from the bowl into my mouth and chew the cereal slowly. Benny not in my life? I can’t bear to think about it either. The man who I had made fun of at my father’s wedding has become my confidant; I would be lost without him. He’s my sounding board that doesn’t try to fix everything. He listens and he shares but he never tells me what to do.
I can’t eat. I push the cereal away and stand. I rummage through the junk drawer and find a charger to hook my phone up. Nothing.
“Great.” I rip the cord out and plug it back in.
Jack holds out his hand. I slap the phone into his palm.
He unplugs it and then plugs it back in. “Nothing,” he says.
“No shit. What? You think if you did it, the phone would work?” Boys annoy me when they do things like that. I’m not weak. And Jack doesn’t possess superpowers. The phone is broke. Period.
“Whoa, Nellie,” he says. He hunts in the drawer and pulls out another charger. “I thought maybe the charger didn’t work.” The second attempt doesn’t work either. “Let’s try the one in my car.” I think this last attempt is to prove that he isn’t trying to one-up me. It’s sweet. His charger doesn’t fit my phone.
“I’ll go to the store. My mom has one of those plans if the phone breaks or I lose it, they’ll replace it.”
“Okay. I have to go pick up my mom at the airport.”
“Is she visiting?” I force myself to keep my tone balanced. His mom’s out there—way out there. If there were a Hillbilly Housewives show and she auditioned for it, the producers would cast her immediately. I really don’t want to deal with her again.
“Not my mama. Sissy’s coming. I don’t call her my stepmom. It doesn’t sound right. She’s been more than a mom to me, more than my own mother ever was. Anyway, she’s coming to look at houses.” Jack looks down at his watch.
“Don’t be late picking her up. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Can you let someone know that my phone’s dead so they don’t worry? Or think I’m being nasty.”
“Do you really hate Alicia?” Jack asks.
“No, I don’t really hate Alicia. I’m mad at my dad. And if you must know, I think I was wrong about her.”
He leans in, and his soft lips touch mine. I want to pull him closer and never let him go. And as if he can sense what I am feeling, he pulls my body to his, his hands find their way up the back of my shirt. Our tongues touch, my body aches. He pulls away first. “I gotta go, before I don’t.” he says.
“Don’t,” I say.
“Later,” he winks.
“Hey, do you like Power Rangers?” I ask, thinking back to the list that I made when I was a little girl.
“Yeah. Mighty Morphin was my favorite when I was a kid.”
”What’s your favorite color?” I pull him back.
“I’ll tell you later.” He lifts me up and plants my butt on the counter, then walks away.
If I ever lose this one, I will die.