“I need a few more minutes.” I said. “I’m waiting for my progress chart.”
“Claire...” It was Ryan.
I hung up.
My phone rang again and I answered it, thinking it was Jonathan.
“Please don’t hang up, Claire.” It was the ass**le again. “I’m...I’m so sorry that I pushed you—I never meant to hurt you like that...Please believe me.”
“I don’t. And I really hope you’re out of town because there are lots of people looking for you right now.”
He sighed. “I just want to let you know that Amanda is recovering from her surgery very well.” He paused. “Phase two was a week ago and it was risky, but it actually worked.”
“Well, good for her and good for you. Try not to push her out of the window. Goodbye.” I hung up.
He called back but I didn’t answer. Then he called two more times before I finally put my phone on silent.
I was about to call Jonathan and tell him I’d be outside, but Ryan sent me a text: “One of your employees mentioned you being at St. Francis...She’s in the same place...Room 2323...I won’t be there so you won’t have to talk to me—or see me...Just tell her hello. That’s all I’m asking...”
I wasn’t sure what made me change my mind, but there I was in line for a visitation pass, considering coming face to face with the woman who’d drastically altered my life.
The bright lights and taupe walls were triggering memories of years past, years when Amanda would be bedridden for the entire summer, when I would bring her teddy bears and catch her up on all the gossip she’d missed from the first week of high school classes.
It always used to pain me to see her body connected to numerous tubes, but I’d never let my concern show on my face. I always told her that “This time is the last time. You’ll never be in this room again.” And after we graduated high school together I’d believed those words were true.
“Next!” The woman at the security desk motioned for me to step forward. “I need your license and your parking ticket from the garage for verification. If you caught the bus, I need a separate form of ID.”
I handed her my license and my therapy card.
“Who are you here to see, Miss Gracen?”
“Amanda Meadows. Oncology.”
“Amanda Meadows?” She shook her head at her screen.
“I’m sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Amanda Hayes. She married...”
She nodded and filled out a green ID badge before handing it over to me. “Visiting hours are over at nine unless you’re given special permission by the doctors on that floor. Keep your ID badge on at all times. You’ll get your license back once you return it. She’s on level twenty three. Next!”
I slid my purse over my shoulder and slowly walked over to the elevators, taking a deep breath.
Why am I doing this? I don’t owe her anything...
Before I could talk myself out of seeing her, the elevator doors sprung open and I forced myself to step inside. It took several minutes before I reached the twenty third floor; the cart seemed to stop on every level and everyone who stepped on was pre-occupied with whatever conversation they were having on their cell phone.
“Twenty. Three.” The elevator system’s speaker droned out and I pushed my way to the front to step off.
I looked down on my ID badge where Amanda’s room number was written and headed to the left. Each room I passed had cards and ‘Get Well Soon’ messages taped onto the door frames.
Room 2323....
I stopped directly in front of the door, forcing myself not to wince as her name—Amanda Hayes, stared me right in the face in red writing.
I knocked four times but there was no answer. I shrugged and decided to walk away, but I heard a faint “Come in.”
I hesitated, wondering if I should face her or not.
I twisted the handle and stepped inside. When I rounded the corner, her eyes immediately met mine.
I stood there completely frozen, taken aback by her ghastly appearance. Her skin was pale, her eyes seemed yellowed, and all of her hair had been shaved off. She didn’t look anything like the woman I’d seen in the catering store.
I looked next to her bed and spotted a full, brown wig hanging off the nightstand.
“Claire?” She croaked as she slowly sat up. “I didn’t think you would actually come to see me...”
“Me either.” I kept my distance. “I heard your surgery went well.”
She nodded. “Yeah. It did.”
“Well, good for you...” My eyes veered towards the flower arrangements that were sitting on her window sill. They were all red roses—polo style. The exact same ones Ryan used to give to me when we were married.
“Would you like to take a seat?” She cleared her throat. “If you’re not too busy that is...”
“Actually, I am.” I took a step back. “I’m not even sure why I came here in the first place...I wish you well with everything and—good to know you’ll be well in the years to come...Goodbye, Amanda...” I turned around to walk away, but she mustered a throaty “Wait!” from her lungs.