He’d spent the remainder of his time home with Macy, only coming back to re-pack a few things and talk for a few hours before I drove him to the airport. He said he wished we could have hung out more, but he was still worried about Macy. He just knew something wasn’t right. Even when they were at her place, she was still acting oddly. I made every excuse I could think of for her, trying to ease his mind. Truth be told, I was getting curious, too. I tried to make a joke about it, asking if he had at least gotten a condolence blow job out of it. He’d scowled at me, partly because that was probably in bad taste and partly because I knew he hadn’t gotten anything.
I still couldn’t get over that… wasn’t giving head just a basic part of a modern girl’s repertoire, whether she really liked it or not? I wanted to ask her about it, but somehow I guessed she’d probably not want to venture anywhere near the topic of sex with me ever again.
We’d given each other a chaste kiss at the airport, one on the cheek at first, but then a quick one on the lips. I could tell he wanted more than that, just like I did again, but we weren’t going there. I smiled and waved as he went through the sliding doors, backpack over his shoulders just like a kid on the first day of school.
And then I was alone again. I waited a couple of days to see if Macy would call me, but she didn’t. So I left her a voicemail, asking her to call me when she got a chance.
The waiting was what had brought me to perusing the classifieds. I needed something to do. I needed people to talk to, even if it was just to ask them if they wanted fries with that. I wasn’t looking for anything that required a great deal of responsibility or even something that paid particularly well, just something that would give me an excuse to get the hell out of the house for a few hours.
I knew the tour wouldn’t last forever… I hadn’t been keeping exact count, I’d learned long ago that made me crazy. I figured it was probably about halfway finished and I had no idea what would happen once it did. I was okay with California, it was nice and all, but it wasn’t home. When he got back, where did I go? I couldn’t really stay here. Well, I could… he wouldn’t tell me to leave, but I couldn’t keep living here while he tried to go about his normal life. That just seemed way too awkward to me. But, I didn’t need to worry about any of that right now. For the time being, I just needed to figure out how the hell to keep myself occupied.
I made a list of the places I thought had the most potential, then grabbed my keys and jumped in the Explorer to take a drive and see which one – if any of them – appealed to me the most. I’d just left the Cadillac Hotel, asking about a front desk job, when my phone rang. I was surprised to see it was Macy, I wouldn’t have expected her to call in the middle of the day.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Summer… it’s Macy.”
God, she sounded awful. “Hey Macy… are you okay?”
“I just woke up… I’m at home, I’ve been sick.”
“You didn’t have to call me back right now.” I felt really bad for bothering her at all now.
“No, I wanted to talk to you. Can you come over? I don’t really feel like leaving the house. Oh, and I’m not contagious, so don’t worry about that,” she said.
“Yeah, sure. You want me to bring you anything?”
“Really?”
Why did she sound so surprised? I’d been nice! “Of course. You name it, I’ll find it.”
She made an oddly strangled coughing sound, and then asked, “Would you mind stopping by the little grocery store at the end of my street and grabbing some banana popsicles? I love those things and I’ve been craving them…”
“Absolutely. You want them now or later?”
“Whenever. You can come now if you want.”
“I’m not that far away, so I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Summer.”
“No problem. Take it easy, Macy.” I hung up, wondering if whatever was going on with her had accounted for the weirdness that Nick was so worried about. I tried to figure out exactly how to get to her apartment from where I was just then, having gotten a little discombobulated while we were on the phone and I was trying to not focus on how terrible she sounded.
I found my way to her complex then drove down the street to find the grocery store she was talking about. I was surprised to find a place like this here, it reminded more of the kind of stores I saw back home. Well, I guess home was a relative term now. The kind of store I saw back in Florida. I went in and was greeted by several pairs of curious eyes. I guessed this was one of those stores where it was mostly regulars and anyone new was a little suspect. I went straight to the tiny little freezer section and perused the “frosen treets”, as the sign said. I saw a lot of things I’d never seen before, but finally found the banana popsicles. Nothing about them sounded good to me, but if that’s what she wanted, that’s what she was going to get. I paid for the popsicles and hurried back out, well aware of what was being said about me. I guessed I should probably be thankful most of it was complimentary, in an odd sort of way.
When I got to Macy’s apartment I knocked on the door and heard a very weak, “It’s open.”
I walked in and found her huddled up on the couch under an afghan that looked entirely too warm. She looked… terrible. She was pale and her eyes made her seem exhausted. I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped.
“I know. Death warmed over. Sorry.” She took the box of popsicles when I held it out for her and opened it up, pulling one out and tearing the wrapper off.
I tried to think of a polite way to ask “What the fuck is wrong with you?” but no words were coming out. I just kept glancing over at her, wondering what happened next. Do I ask? Do I wait for her to tell me?
While I was trying to figure out what to do, she caught me when I was looking at her and pulled down the collar of her t-shirt. At first I was just startled she was voluntarily baring skin, but then I caught sight of a scar, the dark-ish pink line against her peaches-and-cream skin.
I guess my expression conveyed all the questions I had, because she finally started talking.
“I was born with a heart defect… I’ve had surgery three times … and it’s still not completely fixed. Sometimes it just… catches up with me.”
“I don’t… get it.” I didn’t understand anything she was saying. She was only 25 years old… and she’d already had three heart surgeries and she wasn’t fixed? How had medical science hadn’t gotten that far yet? They can transplant hearts and do multiple bypasses and somehow, they couldn’t fix her?
“I don’t know if I get it either, really. I keep being told that it will work out or eventually or just one more surgery will fix it… but it hasn’t.” she said, then stopped to take a few bites on her popsicle.
“Is this what Nick was worried about?”
“He was worried?” she asked, sounding more concerned about him than she did about herself.
“Yeah… you had him all freaked out…”
“I was trying not to let on anything… I guess I didn’t do as well as I thought.”
“Apparently it was offering to give him head that tipped him off.” I told her, waiting to see if she’d elaborate on her opposition to blow jobs.
“OH. Oh.” She was quiet for a moment. “I guess that would have made him wonder since I don’t… do… that… very often.”
I waited again, playing with the frayed hem of the afghan.
“I was surprised he turned me down, but I guess if he realized I was trying to distract him…” She sighed. “I know he loves it, but I just CAN’T do it… it’s gross.”
I was biting my tongue to keep from saying anything. I wanted to argue there was nothing gross about making a man crazy with your mouth, but I was pretty sure my argument would be wasted.
“Why didn’t you just tell him what was going on?” I asked her.
“Because I didn’t want him to worry. I know it freaks him out. When he asked me about the scar the first time he saw it, as soon as I said “heart problems”, he sort of went a little crazy..”
“Brian...” I said, interrupting.
“Yeah, he told me he had a friend that could have died from something like it. He’s always so extra careful with me anyway, if he knew something else was going on, I can’t even imagine what he’d do. I thought I’d be able to deal with it and get everything taken care of while he was gone and he showed up and surprised me…”
“So rather than tell him the truth, you just let him wonder and be scared.” I was honestly kind of mad. I felt bad for her being sick, of course, but I didn’t think it was right for her to be so dishonest with Nick.
“I know, it was wrong. I just don’t want him to worry. All my life everyone has worried about me. I had to take ballet when I wanted to do gymnastics because my mom thought I couldn’t handle it. I sang in choir in high school instead of playing in the band because the marching might have been too much. One of my doctors told me not to have sex because it might put unnecessary strain on me! I’m pretty sure my mom put him up to that, but still. I’ve been careful, everyone has always been worried, and I’m just kind of tired of it, y’know?”
I didn’t know. I didn’t understand that because I’d never been there. I’d always been a rough-and-tumble kind of girl… I played little league… every sport they’d let me try in high school… and had sex marathons that probably equaled weeks of boot camp as far as exertion of energy went. I had no idea what to say to her.
Finally, I asked, “So what happens now? If you’re trying to take care of things while he’s gone… what is it that you’re doing?”
“I’ve had a couple doctor’s appointments, I see another specialist later this week, then I guess they’ll decide what to do. I hope it’s not surgery again, but I don’t know. I just… want to not have to worry about it,” she told me, sort of staring off into space. Then she turned quickly and looked right at me, “You can’t say anything to him about this.”
“How would I say anything? You didn’t want him to know we were talking, either.” I said, snippy. I’d never left so much out of what I told Nick than I had since Macy... happened.
She seemed surprised at my tone. “I’m sorry. I know it’s dishonest. I appreciate you wanting to protect him.”
“I’m not going to lie if he asks me anything.” I said, standing up.
“Enjoy your popsicles.” I grabbed my bag and let myself out the door, not caring how rude I might be. I heard her calling “thank you” as I shut the door, but didn’t stop to ask what for.
I drove home the longest way I could think of, because I just wasn’t ready to go back to the house. I had so many thoughts tumbling around in my head – and most of them were about Macy. I knew Nick loved her. I guess, in her own fucked up way, not telling him anything was a way of loving him, too. She was being dishonest, but did that mean she shouldn’t be trusted? She was sick, or at least unwell, it wasn’t like I’d caught her with another guy and she was asking me to cover for her. But something just wasn’t right about the whole thing for me… who knew, who didn’t know and what the real problem was. I could only guess at the severity of the problem with her heart by what she’d told me, but it didn’t sound like a good prognosis.
My phone chimed, letting me know I had a text message and pulling me out of my jumbled thoughts. It was from Nick, who else would it have been?
“I want a new tat”
I laughed. It had been a while since he’d indulged his ink addiction. I’d been surprised at how long he’d held out. The late afternoon traffic was getting ridiculous – I should have known better than to take the highway now. As I crawled along with the rest of the cars, I called him to tell him to go for it and be sure to send me a picture.