“I’m not sure, Clyde,” Mason replies, pulling out a seat for Thessaly. “Have a splendid weekend, gentlemen,” he adds, joining Thessaly’s side.
As the two men finally stagger away, Mason turns to Thessaly and apologizes. “I had to invite them over for a few minutes – the tall guy gave me a promotion.”
“It’s fine, really. I don’t expect you to ever be some place and not know at least ten people. You’re the homecoming king of Wall Street,” she teases.
“All I care about is my queen – you look absolutely stunning, Tess.” Mason strokes Thessaly’s wrist with his index finger and smiles. “Can I order you a drink?”
“Please, and I’d love something to eat.”
“I thought you said you had dinner plans?”
“I’m not sure now – do you have time for dinner?”
“Absolutely.” Snapping at the waitress, Mason says, “But we’ll need champagne.”
Placing a napkin in her lap, Thessaly asks, “What’s the occasion?”
“Let’s just say, I have a very tempting proposal in mind.”
Arriving at the table, the waitress fills a water glass for Thessaly and turns to Mason. “Can I get you something else to drink?”
“We would like a bottle of Moët, please,” he orders.
“Of course,” she replies.
Waiting for the waitress to leave, Thessaly teases, “You’re being uncharacteristically sappy, Mason. What’s going on?”
Taking her hand and shifting his body to look directly in her eyes, Mason reveals, “I’m moving to London. And I want you to go with me.”
“What?”
“It’s only a temporary move, but we could live in a flat and drink tea and go to Chelsea games.”
“But I live here now, Mason.”
Dismissing her comment, he says, “You’re only renting, Tess.”
“But my business!” she bursts.
“Tess, you’ll love London – it’s like New York but cleaner.”
“Mason, I’m shocked. You know I love you, but I can’t just pack up my shop and move to London.”
Thessaly’s phone buzzes with a text, followed by a phone call.
“Tess, please don’t answer the phone,” Mason pleads.
When her phone buzzes with a series of texts, Thessaly drops her head to read the screen. “Hang on,” she apologizes.
Meg: Urgent!!
Meg: Christina overdosed!!
Levi: Do I need to carry you to Brooklyn?
Meg: Meet us at Presbyterian
Meg: 14th Street
Meg: Hurry!
“Mason, I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s an emergency.” Thessaly places her napkin on the table and stands.
Huffing, Mason rises and tosses his napkin on the table. “I’ll come with you,” he offers.
“No, please. Can I call you tomorrow?” Thessaly asks, grabbing her clutch and heading toward the front of the restaurant.
“But I need an answer,” Mason insists as he walks behind her.
“I need time to think, Mason,” she says over her shoulder.
“Tess, this should be easy.”
Thessaly stops, turns to face Mason, and smirks. She places her hand on the sleeve of his expensive shirt and laughs. “It’s actually too easy, Mason.”
“Then you’ll come to London?” He smiles hopefully.
“We’ll talk tomorrow – I have to go.” Thessaly whips back around as Mason grabs her arm. She shakes him off and darts out the door to the restaurant.
Hailing a cab, Thessaly crawls into the backseat, calms her shaking hands, and then returns a text to Meg.
Tess: I’m on my way. Any updates?
Meg: The doctor mentioned a coma. Lois is freaking the fuck out.
Tess: Shit. Keep her calm.
“Fourteenth, please. New York Presbyterian Emergency Room,” Thessaly instructs the cab driver. “And hurry,” she adds.
Thessaly rereads the last text from Levi. She wants to reply, but the distractions and current stressful situation are preventing her from forming an appropriate reply. So instead, she opens the photo of them taken on the yacht and begins to sob.
“Being a mother is the greatest joy in a woman’s life. I have a few friends that can’t have children, and I pity them. Almost as much as they pity me.”
Chapter Ten
As a courteous reminder, New York Presbyterian Hospital forbids use of all cellular devices.
Hearing the announcement for the fiftieth time, Lois DeMarco glances at the screen of her iPhone and then shoves it in her pocket. She’s always been the type of person to follow the rules, even when the rules tend to screw her over. When she delivered Christina Marie in this same hospital over sixteen years ago, Lois declined an epidural and opted for a natural delivery. Richie, her husband at the time, claimed that drugs used during childbirth would eventually make the kid a substance abuser, even though he himself was a raging alcoholic with no authority on the matter.
So for the health of her baby girl, and to refrain from fighting with Richie, Lois endured twenty hours of excruciating labor pains. And as she sits in the dimly lit waiting area to the ICU, a jabbing pain terrorizes her uterus.
Removing another piece of gum from her handbag, Lois chomps to the rhythm of the ticking clock above the water fountain. She glances at the elderly man dozing in the corner, and then at the middle-aged man reading a paperback with tiny reading glasses, wondering if they could ever share the same pain as a mother losing her only child.
Lois closes her eyes and smiles – watching as fading memories dance across her eyelids. She sees Christina, dressed in a white gown and white gloves. Christina’s toothless grin beams while she poses with a Bible and an antique rosary. It’s Christina’s First Communion – a day of spiritual celebration followed by a family dinner in Whitestone. Even Richie, handsome in a blue suit, dances soberly through the memories with Christina twirling from his arm.
The Communion party shifts to a summer vacation in Fort Lauderdale. They’re having the best time at the beach, building a sandcastle in the shape of Midtown and swimming in the warm salt water. As night falls, Lois surprises Christina with a tiny pair of diamond studs. Christina flails her arms and hugs her mother, realizing that at eleven years old, she can finally get her ears pierced.
An older Christina, with aqua-blue hair and a nose ring to match her diamond studs, lumbers across the fading memories. She takes Lois in her scrawny arms as they watch Richie walk out the door to never return. Christina cuddles next to Lois in the king-size bed, stroking her hair and listening to her mother cry.
“Ms. DeMarco?” a quiet voice announces.
Opening her eyes, Lois leaps from her seat and searches for the voice. “I’m here,” she replies frantically.
A doctor wearing green scrubs and a white lab coat approaches Lois. “Let’s talk over here,” he suggests calmly.
Biting the tip of her tongue and clenching her jaw, Lois prepares for the worst as she follows the doctor to the opposite corner.
Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, the doctor says, “I’m Dr. Fletcher. Christina suffered from an overdose because her body’s metabolism couldn’t detoxify the chemicals fast enough. We flushed her stomach and gave her an intravenous of fluids. Honestly, she was very lucky – most kids don’t make it with that many drugs in their system.”