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“Someday.”

The water crashes on the shore as I pull my wrap around me. “Mom, I’m not sure if he loves me, but I’m sure I love him. I didn’t think I could feel like this. I’ve been holding onto you for so long, I didn’t expect to find someone who I’d want to share the pieces of me I buried with you. And I have a friend. One you’d like. He listens like you used to. You’re fading.” I squeeze my eyes tight to clear the tears. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t remember the color of your nightgown the night you told me about the cancer. Do I need that detail? What if I need it? What if I need you and I’ve forgotten all the parts of you? Fuck.” I can’t stop them from flowing now. I sniffle to keep my nose from running. I exhale and calm myself. I’ll tuck this all away for the moment. “Alex needs me. I’m sorry to cut our time short. I love you.” I leave the bottle for her.

48

Tess

I text, waiting for takeoff.

TESS: I’m headed to Boston. Is he ok?

MIKEY: IT’S FUCKING DAWN.

TESS: It’s noon. Go to work.

MIKEY: He’s rattled but grateful you’ll be there. And u ok leaving the ritual? You and Ma good?

TESS: Nice morning with my mom and my words. I’ll tell him all about it after we know about his dad. I have no reservations about going to Boston. I want to be there for him.

MIKEY: Hmmm, I suspect you might be on a path towards those words.

TESS: You truly are a Nuisance.

MIKEY: Tell me you at least drank those pricey bubbles.

TESS: I had a little and left the rest of the bottle for her.

MIKEY: She’s dead.

TESS: So I’ve heard.

MIKEY: Call me tomorrow.

TESS: No.

MIKEY: You’ll do it, woman.

TESS: Probably. Talk to you later.

MIKEY: Lates!

TESS: Don’t try to be hip.

* * *

It’s around five, and I run to the desk. “Excuse me. I need information on James Bishop?” This didn’t occur to me. I have no authority here whatsoever. They’re never going to let me in. I know better than that.

“Are you family?” The curt man taps a pen on the plastic divider.

“No.” I smile.

“Then, no.” The man smirks at me.

“Can I find out if he’s ok?” The man shakes his head at me. Alex’s plane lands in about two hours, I could sit here. I shouldn’t have come to the hospital. I turn away, and a woman is staring at me.

“Why did you ask about James Bishop?” Her soulful eyes are a familiar sandy gold and look as if they’ve had a late night.

“I’m inquiring for, um, a friend of mine, um.” I stumble with the language that defines my relationship to the world. “I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you.”