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“Yes! My sister was amazing, and her husband too. He was so supportive and encouraging. That’s the first time I’ve seen a baby enter the world, and it was fantastic and horrifying all at the same time,” she said, giggling.
Well, that explained where she had been the past couple of days when I couldn’t reach her. Now I felt like a selfish cad leaving so many messages.
“Sorry I bombed your voicemail. Just delete them all and never mind me.”
“I know,” she said regretfully. “I’m sorry I haven’t been picking up. There were so many times we thought it was the big moment, you know? Then my little niece changed her mind, and the whole process would start again. My poor sister is exhausted. That’s why I was so quiet when I answered. She’s finally sleeping with sweet Elanor on her chest, and I didn’t want to wake them. I think I’ll be heading home soon.”
“Oh, so you’re still at the hospital?” I asked, barely able to get a word in in the midst of her excited rambling.
“No, as crazy as it sounds, they had her at home. But they live in Malibu, so I have a bit of a drive to Brentwood. Tell me how you’re doing. I’d be happy to chat while I drive if you’re up for it?”
“I’d give my right arm to keep you on the line right now,” I said and winced. Maybe that was coming on too strong. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off by being too clingy or needy. “At least traffic should have died down by now.”
“I hope so. I’m so tired from all the excitement. How are you feeling? I bet you’re climbing the walls in there.”
“They moved me to an orthopedic rehabilitation center yesterday. I have a private room, and my mother spent yesterday and the better part of today here with me while I get used to the new routine.”
I can’t believe this is my life right now.
“Why did they do that instead of send you home?” she asked innocently, and the part of this conversation I was dreading was already front and center.
But I didn’t want to put a damper on her joy. I never wanted to do that for any reason of my own. So instead of answering her question, I clumsily shifted the topic back to the new baby.
“That’s a beautiful name they picked. Is it a family name? It’s so old-fashioned,” I said with as much brightness in my tone that I could manufacture.
“Isn’t it? It was Elijah’s mother’s name. She passed when he was a teenager, and they named the baby Elanor in her honor. The baby looks exactly like my youngest sister, Clemson, when she was a newborn. I have no idea how that happened, but everyone agrees.”
Quiet swelled between us when she finished with that explanation.
Finally she said, “Andrew? Why didn’t you answer me? Why were you moved to a rehab facility? Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Worry was evident in her voice, and I instantly felt like a jerk. No matter which way I tried to handle my shitty news, it was causing her stress.
So I decided to be honest but positive. “My doctors want me to be under close care for a few weeks while I regain my strength and mobility.”
There. Was it sugar-coated? Absolutely. But it was honest and direct, so I had to get some credit for those things, at least. Personally, coming to grips with my situation had been hard enough. Frankly, I still wasn’t fully there. It seemed inconceivable to one minute be walking, driving, working—all the things—and the next, well, to be here. Unable to move from the hip down and having no guarantee that I ever would again.
Vomit surged up my esophagus, and I covered my mouth with a loud groan. I dropped the phone into my lap and frantically looked from side to side for something to barf into. The gravity of my physical situation caused a second, more violent lurch from my stomach as I grabbed for the Styrofoam cup on the bed table positioned over my thighs.
Ripping the lid and bendy straw off the top, I tipped my face over the wide brim and revisited the red Jell-O I had for an after-dinner snack. Thank God there wasn’t much more in my stomach, because the cup could only hold so much. All the while, Maye was hearing the demoralizing episode from her end of our call, and my hands were too preoccupied to mute the call.
Without thinking beyond the panic and humiliation of what had just happened, I stabbed the button to end the call. Not a word of goodbye nor a mention of talking again soon.
As much as it hurt my heart to conclude, I knew I couldn’t let her hang on to hope of any sort of relationship now.
We were already facing tons of backlash because of our age difference and teacher-student relationship. Now, with the added burden of my physical condition, it was all too much. I had nothing to offer the woman but problems, and she deserved so much more than that. The better part of my soul, the unselfish part, knew the best thing I could do for Maye was leave her alone.
I just wasn’t sure the other parts of me could do that.
My phone vibrated for the second time as Maye tried to reconnect. I stared at the device and let it ring through to voicemail as my regular night nurse poked his head in the doorway to my room.
“There he is!” he called cheerfully, and I couldn’t help but grin. The man’s energy was infectious. If ever a person chose the perfect profession, it was this guy.
“Hey, Marlin. How you doing?”
“Can’t complain. Carrie said you’re needing a shower? Let me get my new admit settled next door, and we’ll get you spiffy, ’kay?”
“Not like I’m going anywhere. Whenever you have time. Can you take this, though? Sorry. I think the meds hit my stomach wrong, and there was nothing else nearby,” I explained while motioning to the cup.
My nurse bustled into the room. “Oh, that’s a bummer. How’re you feeling now? Want me to get something ordered for the nausea? In fact, let me check your standing orders. There may be something already written.”
