Nurse Harkins, hardly says a word, she’s allowing us to have this uninterrupted time. Walking out of the room, she periodically comes back to check on us. She even let me feed him, while she takes care of her other patients. She’s truly an angel.
“Oh sweetie, I see a lot of new mothers every day. Most days, this is the best job to have, to see a new life come into this crazy world. Unfortunately, a few of those new moms I don’t have a lot of confidence in. It’s hard for me to put into words to explain this the right way. The hardest part is being more excited about the moment when the mother you’re helping seems not as overjoyed. Those situations are few, but they do happen. You’re the exception, though. It’s bittersweet, more of a tragedy. All alone, having no one by your side. I don’t know your story, and you don’t need to tell me. It’s written all over your face, in your eyes, and it spills out of you with every word you say to your son. You would have made an incredible mother, and one day I hope you do. For now, though, God, has another plan. You are doing the best you can child, and I’m so proud of you. Takes a hell of a lot of courage to sit here knowing your time is limited with him, yet you are making sure he knows how much you love him. Keep it with you, always.”
GASPING FOR AIR and drenched with sweat, I sit up straight in bed and reach for my throat. I had not dreamt of that night for a while, but I’m sure seeing Micah is why I’m having it tonight. How do I tell him? Do I tell him or do I never say a word? I’ve got no clue, and right now, I don’t want to think about it. I’m desperate to lie down and remember what it felt like to have him in my arms, having him reach out for my finger. I’m going to do just what Nurse Harkins told me to do… ‘keep him with you, always.’
Closing my eyes, I whisper, “Good night Michael, my baby, my son…always and forever.”
NOT THAT BIG OF a surprise, I called in sick the following morning. Liza never made it back home, but I had assumed she made it into work. Dr. Davis was, as ususal, concerned and instructed me to rest. I told him I had been up all night not feeling well. At least, that part was accurate. I spent the whole day in bed with my phone off. No one bothered to check up on me, and I was thankful for it because I needed to be alone.
Unfortunately, the days that followed were not as quiet. Nick called non-stop and saw me every minute he could. Liza was being nice, just not around much. She even kept her distance at work. Everyone at the office could easily pick up on the visible tension between us. I didn’t say a word, though. Sometimes saying nothing is best. Micah had left me alone, and to say I’m relieved would be an understatement.
I woke up each day, went to work, even ate dinner with Nick a few nights, mainly because he kept harping at me. Then I made sure I went to bed alone, further disappointing him. I felt no desire to be close to him, or anyone for that matter. I just needed my space. Little by little, it seemed I was withdrawing back to the darkness I’ve fought so hard to escape.
I’ve survived the longest, most awkward week in history. Being forced to eat, sleep and work in this bizarre twist of fate, Liza and I find ourselves in, is beyond mind blowing. The days following that night after Micah left me alone in my room have left me speechless and utterly confused. It seems we are all walking on egg shells, because everyone is afraid of hurting someone else’s feelings. Either that or none of us know what the hell to say to each other. I’ll go with the last one. I have no clue what to even say to my roommate. She has this nervous energy that is starting to drive me crazy. Nick is standoffish at best, slowly pulling back from me and mostly, I’m letting him.
I’m sure Micah has not mentioned our kiss to Liza, because if he had, she would have said something to me by now. To make it even worse, she invited Micah and Nick over for dinner. Since Liza can only cook grilled cheese sandwiches, I volunteered to cook. But I have an ulterior motive. I figured if I cooked, I’d keep busy. The busier I am, the less likely I would be uncomfortable making small talk with Micah. Damn, this night’s going to suck. I can only imagine how hard it’s going to be being in the same room with him. The only thing my mind can do is remember that damn kiss. I swear my lips still tingle at the memory of his sizzling lip smacking. Jesus!
A knock at the door alerts me, that this most awkward night, is about to begin.
Staying busy in the kitchen, like I’d planned, is working so far. My damn nerves have me self-conscious, looking over my shoulder constantly while getting the lettuce and tomatoes out of the refrigerator. Letting my favorite song play in my mind, I’m bopping and whistling around the kitchen, not noticing I’m no longer alone.
Rubbing his hands, Nick seems ready to help me out rather than be in the other room. “Oh, can I help you chop the salad?”
I can’t help smiling at his pleasant face. He’s pretending to be excited, even though, we are all feeling awkward. I'm so glad he’s here. He has that calming effect on me. Picking up a knife, he helps me finish the salad. We laugh making small talk. Chopping the last of the celery, I notice he’s leaning against the counter, watching my every move. Okay, that’s not helping my nerves at all.
I ignore his stare. “I got it, thank you for the help. You can just stand there and stare at me or sit down. It’s weird they are watching TV,” I whisper, pointing my knife toward the living room. “And you are standing in the kitchen with me.”
“Pointing that knife around while thinking about him.” Nick sighs rather loudly. “Got to be honest, makes me nervous.” He says biting his lower lip to contain his laugh.
His attempt at humor is pretty funny, but then again not.
“No worries,” I give him a half turned up smile. “I have no desire to cut anything other than the salad.”
“Pfft, please.” He says with a roll of his eyes.
Dropping the knife on the counter, I say, “Try to mingle, talk, have some fun.” Saying the word fun, just seems odd. Who the hell thinks this is fun, more like torture? At the same time we laugh.
Suddenly, in walks Liza. Well, it’s more like stomping her feet. “Okay, this is not working. We are in there, and you two are hiding out in the kitchen. The idea was for us all to get along, and find some common ground. I want us all to be friends here.” Addressing Nick, but her eyes are centered on me. What can I say? I’m the cook. I’m where I should be.
Opening my mouth to say something my eyes lock on Micah, who walks up behind Liza, most likely wondering what we are talking about.
“Hey,” holding up my hands, I argue. “I’m cooking you all dinner. I’m not hiding or avoiding anyone. If you all want to chat, come on in, but stay out of my way. I’ve got garlic bread to make.”
“Love your garlic bread, El. I remember it, oddly enough.” Micah blurts out . The only issue is the fact it’s been years since I made it for him.
All eyes snap to him, and he shrugs it off. “Hey, sorry, but it’s true. She made it for me a few times at my house. My whole family ate it.”
His explanation adds to the shock and blank expressions staring back at him.
“Look,” Micah huffs clearly frustrated. “If we are all going to be around each other, we need to get over the fact that Elsa and I know one another. The depth of our relationship is not relevant.”
To hear him say it like that, does make sense, so I nod agreeing. The visible one not agreeing happens to be standing next to me, and he’s really not happy. His fists are balled tight, he’s shifting his weight side to side, and he looks like he’s ready to start a fight. I brace for whatever Nick is going to say.