“Then what am I?”
“You tell me, Judith.”
The ladies held their gaze until the waiter returned with their drinks, setting them down in front of them. “I’m not crazy. The drugs make me crazy. They fog my brain.” Lacy nodded in understanding as Jude continued, “Sometimes I wish I was crazy so I didn’t care so much, so I could escape this reality once and for all.”
Reaching across the table, Lacy covered Jude’s hand with her own. The gesture was reassuring and Jude felt more and more comfortable with her. Lacy confessed, “I can find another job, but I feel like my patients need me there. For some, I’m their only advocate. I can be one for you as well if you tell me what’s wrong.”
She hesitated, not used to opening up, much less to someone who worked at her own personal hell, but something in Lacy’s eyes—maybe the sympathetic kindness she saw—made her trust the nurse. “My marriage was annulled and we’re no longer together.”
“What?” she asked, dropping back. “How can that be? That’s not possible. I thought—”
“You thought what?” Jude asked, curious to hear her thoughts.
“I could tell how much you loved each other. I could tell how much he loved you.”
“My family didn’t agree.”
“Who cares about them? You can’t lose love like that.”
“I didn’t lose it. I was backed into a corner and had to sign it away.”
“I don’t understand.” The waiter walked by and set down their food.
“Lacy…” she started, but stopped, not knowing if she could tell the lies anymore. She wasn’t numb. Every last emotion was clogging her arteries and making her heart throb all at once. “My family has been blackmailing me for years for my inheritance.”
Lacy’s mouth dropped open and she gasped.
Jude said, “Dr. Conroy is being paid to keep me insane.”
She double blinked at Jude, and then again. Her hand was back over her mouth as she stared at the woman in front of her. When her hand came down, Lacy took a sip of coffee as she processed the accusations laid before her. But then did something surprising.
Her finger flew straight up, her elbow stationed on the table. “I knew it!” A thrill flashed through her eyes. “My gut instinct knew it, but no one would listen to me.”
She. Believed. Jude. She believed me.
“I’m very familiar with nobody listening. I’ve been shouting it for years, but somehow I’ve never been heard.”
“I’m hearing you now. I became a nurse to help people. Maybe I can help you.”
TAYLOR SAT INSIDE a hotel ballroom at a round table for ten. August 18th. His parents were on one side and Katherine on the other. The band played as the two-thousand-dollar-a-person plate was taken away. He ate two bites, but had no appetite. Katherine smiled watching the band, then put her hand on his arm. “You’re not hungry? You should eat. You need food to keep up your energy.”
He didn’t reply. Taylor had discovered weeks ago that conversation existed around him whether he participated or not. And ever since his parents found out about the marriage and the annulment, the court case, and restraining order, they were determined to help him get over the loss of his heart, but failed to notice he was dying a slow death without it. Without her. Some people were more persistent than others.
Like Katherine. “Did you hear me, honey?”
This time he did respond, “Yes.”
“What’s wrong? Do you want to dance or get another drink?”
Wordlessly, he stood up and started walking. Away from Katherine and his parents, away from the table and two-thousand-dollar-a-person plates of food, away from this fundraiser that besieged him—all the things that were smothering him with their laughter and happiness. It was all too much.
Too much pain.
The architect walked right through the double doors of the ballroom and down to the lobby. He made it out onto the sidewalk and took his first deep breath all night.
“Taylor? Wait.”
And then his breath stopped, strangling his lungs.
His hands began to tremble. He took one step to get away and his legs gave out on him. Gasps were heard as he fell to his hands and knees to the concrete. Pandemonium surrounded him as two men righted him. Katherine was directing them to a nearby bench, and Taylor let them drag him, unable to make the move himself. When he was secured, they left, but Katherine remained until the ambulance arrived. Worry marked her face quite nicely. Maybe she really does care about me.
The chaos that engulfed him that night was not the chaos he craved. He was hooked to monitors. An IV was next to his bed, dripping straight into his veins. Nurses flitted about, as Katherine fluffed his pillow, and sat next to him gossiping about mutual friends of theirs, friends he didn’t consider real friends.
He wanted ice cream in the middle of winter and jellybeans in baked goods that had no business being there. He missed the element of surprise. He missed the curve of her waist where it meets her hips. He missed those damn blue-green eyes that stayed the same when her clothes changed. He missed Jude. He missed her and that pain was far worse than any his body could inflict. As long as his mind was intact, the image of the girl in the chartreuse dress and snow boots would haunt his memories, his dreams, his waking hours, and his dying days.
Instead, he was offered blue gelatin as if he should be happy. Katherine said, “I told them you didn’t eat much at dinner. That might be causing this. I told them. Just a sugar dip. They suggested you eat this.”
He turned his head in anger, his voice tight. “This isn’t a fucking sugar dip. I’m not a diabetic. I have Parkinson’s.” He paused to stare at her. “Isn’t that your cue to leave?”
“Don’t get snippy with me, Taylor. I’m only trying to help.”
He huffed, wanting to throw something or punch a wall to get this pent-up aggression out somehow. Taking it out on a woman who was clueless wasn’t satisfying his need. He turned away from her, blocking her out of his mind and getting her out of his sight.
She got the hint… finally, and went to the coffee shop down the street. Once the last nurse left the room, Taylor stared out the window. It was larger than the last hospital room’s and it faced the city instead of the roof of a dilapidated structure. The lights were off except a small lamp on the wall near the bed, but he reached up and turned it off too. The buildings outside were the only lights he wanted to see. They reminded him of Jude sitting in the chair by the window at his place. She used sit there for hours staring out. And he used to sit nearby for hours staring at her. She once called herself broken. She was this small angel with huge wings wrapped around her. She wasn’t broken. The world around her was.
His lids grew heavy and he let himself go…
The overhead light flicked on and Taylor was startled awake.
“Oops,” Katherine announced unapologetically. “Sorry.” She turned the light back off and walked to his bedside. “It’s not even ten. I didn’t expect you to be asleep. I brought you coffee.” When he made no effort to take it from her, she set it on his hospital tray. “I’ll leave it here so you can reach it.”
He kept his eyes focused outside, outside where Jude lived, and asked, “Have you ever wondered what you would do if you had nothing?”
She laughed until she figured out he was serious. “Why do you think about such horrid things, honey? You should be thinking positively. That will help you heal.”
This time he laughed, and turned to her as she sat in a chair by the window. She was beautiful. Any guy would find her attractive—on the outside. Vapid on the inside. But he preferred the unpredictable nature of the little brunette with wide beautiful eyes. He preferred Jude. His reality didn’t include her though, so he was trying to make do with those who did want him. “Horrid? There are worse things in life, Katherine, than having a clean slate.”