Twenty-Five
Peter
The next day Claire is too sick to leave her bed, and Sam takes her to the doctor's. Ava goes to school, but her thoughts are distracted all day. She didn't want to go, but Claire begs her to.
“How can I say no to her?” she says, trying to hide her red eyes under lots of eye makeup. “I just... I'm just so scared. This wasn't supposed to happen now. It was supposed to happen months from now. Not now,” she says, trying to get her emotions under control. I send her as much positive energy as I can, but it isn't much, because her despair is so heavy over both of us. It weighs us down like a chain, dragging us down. “And what about Helena and Brooke? They're going to find Di and what if they bring her back? What will we do —” I put my finger to her lips to stop her verbal torrent. Her thoughts are rushing like a river that I wish I could dam.
“I will be with you. Every second.”
“I wish that made me feel better.” She instantly feels guilt for saying it, afraid I would be offended. I am not.
“I wish it, too.” I wish it more than anything else.
I stay as close to the school building as I can, lying low under windows and up against walls. When she has classes on the top floors of buildings, I go there as well. I follow her as close as I can without going inside. Her thoughts come to me, scattered, scared, lost. I have been able to read her mind almost completely the entire day. I haven't told her. She is not doing well. Her heart races and slows in a way that worries me. The stress is starting to take a toll on her body. I keep watch on her body rhythms, making sure that she doesn't have a panic attack or something worse.
She runs out of the school building at lunch and I grab her arm, pulling her into my chest. She doesn't say anything, and I don't either. I hold her until she takes a deep breath, her entire body shaking.
“She's been admitted, but I don't know anything else. I've texted Dad, but he hasn't messaged me back. I don't know what to do.”
“No news is good news,” I say, using a phrase I picked up recently.
“I want to kill every single one of them. It's so hard not to. I just want them all to die.” I know. I've seen the images in her head of blood, death and fire. They do not disturb me, but they do her. I wish I could push them away and give her beautiful images of mountains, beaches and sunshine.
“I wish I had something better to say. We will see her this afternoon.” She nods against my chest.
“Are you okay?” Texas is right behind us with Viktor. Ava hasn't told her about her mother yet.
“My mom's not doing well. I just don't know what to do.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“She asked me to go to school. How could I say no?”
Texas looks at Ava, as if she wants to say something. I catch Viktor's eye, but he is concentrating on Texas. She swallows and reconsiders.
“There are some times when you have to listen to your parents. When they tell you go to bed or eat your vegetables or not try to do gymnastics on the couch because you'll break your grandmother's lamp that she brought all the way from her honeymoon in Europe, you listen. This is not one of those times. If it was my mother, I'd be there. I know she and I don't get along that well, but she's my mom and I love her. We don't have half the connection you guys do. So get your ass to that hospital right now. I don't want to see your face back here. Go.” She points to the parking lot.
For a moment, Ava imagines breaking Texas' neck, but then she dives at her, giving her a crushing hug. “I love you, Texas Sarsaparilla Anne Hamilton. I freaking love you. Keep an eye on Jamie.”
“I know. I love you, too. Tell Claire I said hi and get better. Viktor and I will take care of Jamie.”
Ava grabs my hand and marches to her car, resolved.
“I don't know why it took someone else to tell me it's okay for it to be okay. I shouldn't need Tex to tell me that. I should be ballsy enough to do it on my own. I feel like I'm not myself anymore. I don't know this girl I've become.” She starts the car and pulls out of the lot without looking back.
“I do. She's the exact same girl that met me in the cemetery that night and kept coming back even though I told her I would kill her. She's the girl I adore. She's you.”
“You always say the right thing. I think you come up with this stuff ahead of time and then whip it out when I need it. I love you.” She's said it several times today.
She breaks a few driving laws getting to the hospital, but there are no police around. I take her hand as we walk into the hospital.
“I have no idea where she'd be. Last time she came she was in the ER, but they've probably moved her to a room by now.”
She goes up to the desk and asks for her mother's room.
“Are you Ava?” the young nurse in yellow scrubs asks.
“Yes. Could you tell me where she is?”
“Sure, sweetheart. She's in room 203. Just down the hall and hang a left,” she says, pointing.
“Thank you,” Ava says, rushing down the hallway to the room. She pauses for a second outside the door and takes a deep breath. I try to let go of her hand, but she won't let me.
“I need you,” she says, so we walk in the room together. Claire is propped on a hospital bed, her eyes closed, and a heart monitor softly beeping next to her. There is an IV in her arm as well and oxygen line in her nose.
“Ava? What are you doing here?” Sam is slumped over in a chair, his head resting on one of his hands.
“I had to come and see her,” she says, her chin rising in anticipation of his disapproval. He rubs his eyes, trying to become fully awake. He looks at Claire before turning his attention back to Ava.
“I'm not happy, but I understand. I knew you'd be here by the end of the day. Do you need a note?”
“No, I already forged one,” Ava says, her tension easing the tiniest bit.
“Clever girl,” Sam says with a brief smile. “Looks like you're a partner in crime, Peter.”
“Your daughter can be very persuasive,” I say. Sam chuckles.
“She can. So can her mother.” He brushes Claire's arm.
“How is she?” Ava asks.
“Looks like she had a cold that's turned into pneumonia. They've got her on antibiotics and we'll see. They want to keep her here.” I get out the only other available chair for Ava and stand next to it.
“Do you want to sit, Peter? I'm sure they can get another chair.”
“I'm fine, thank you.” The hum of the hospital is loud to me. I am not used to it. In addition, I get every single thought from Ava's head. There is a lot of noise that I want to quiet, but I will put up with it for her.
Nurses rush to and fro, their soft shoes barely making any noise on the linoleum. One pauses in the doorway and comes in, first pumping hand sanitizer into her palms.
“How are we doing? Well, this must be Ava.” The woman is thirtyish, slim and has a warm smile. Her blood smells warm and full. Healthy.
“Hi,” Ava says.
“I'm Jenna, your mom's day nurse. And who is this handsome young man?”
“This is Peter,” Ava says, but in her head she's laughing at the woman calling me a young man.
“Well, well,” Jenna says, moving to the machinery hooked up to Claire. We did not have the medical technology they have now when I was alive. It is a marvel what humans are able to accomplish. I am astonished by it all the time.
She wakes Claire by gently rubbing her shoulder.
“Wake up, darling. Just gotta check your vitals.” Claire rouses slowly, pulling at the oxygen tube.
“Whoa, don't mess with that,” Jenna says, taking her hands away. Claire's eyes open and she looks startled for a moment. Like a child.
“What? Oh, Ava. What time is it?”
“It's twelve-thirty sleeping beauty. Can you go ahead and lift that arm for me?” Claire lifts her arm and Jenna starts to take her blood pressure.
“You should be in school.”
“There are some things that are more important than school. Besides, I'm almost done.”
“I should be a mean mommy and make you go back.”
“But you're not going to,” Ava finishes, and Jenna laughs.
“I see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your mother is just as stubborn. She put up quite a fuss about getting this IV in.”
Claire blushes, and for a second, I see Ava's face on hers. They are so much alike.
“Looks good. I'll be back in a few hours, okay? Your lunch should be here soon, too.”
“I'm not hungry,” Claire says.
“Well, see how you feel. Nice to meet you, Ava and Peter.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ava says, although she doesn't feel that it is nice at all.
“Do you need a chair, handsome?” she says with a wink.
“I am fine.”
“Such a gentleman,” she says, touching my arm. Jenna is not put off by me at all and smiles at me as if I was a human boy giving my girlfriend my support as her mother battles cancer. Her energy is warm and giving. Infectious.
Jenna leaves and returns with a chair for me, which I take from her and sit, thanking her before she leaves.
Claire tries to sit up, but her arms are so weak that she can't, so Sam helps her.
“I hate that you're all taking care of me.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Claire. That's what we're here for. You have to stop trying to do so much,” Sam says, brushing her balding head. He smiles at her as if she's his whole world. I wish I could smile at Ava the same way.
“I just hate to be a burden.”
“You can't love a burden. And you're much too cute to be a burden.” Sam kisses her head and she sighs, but it turns into a cough.
Ava grips my hand tightly, her heart racing. I pump as much calm as I can muster. I shut everything else out but her and push her worries and negative feelings away. I think of sunlight, laughing with her and every good moment we've had so far together.
Her body relaxes just a bit and she lies back in the chair. Sam yawns, his jaw cracking with the effort.
“I think I'm going to get some coffee. Does anyone need anything?” Ava shakes her head and I respond that I am fine. Sam gives Claire a wink before leaving the room, pulling the sliding curtain behind him.
“I don't know what I did to deserve the two of you, but whatever lottery I won, I'm glad I did.” Ava gives her a light hug, trying not to jostle any of the tubes. “Come on up here, I can make room. You don't mind, do you, Peter?”
“Not at all.” I've never had so many people concerned with how I feel about things. It is both strange and pleasing.
Claire scoots over and Ava climbs into the bed next to her on the opposite side of all the tubes and equipment. Ava lays her head on Claire's shoulder and closes her eyes. She's thinking that this can't be it. This can't be the end. That there should be more time. That it isn't fair. That she isn’t going to be strong enough. That she will break into a million little pieces that will blow away in the wind. I steal Sam's chair so I can sit next to her with my hand on her ankle so I can touch her skin.
“You'd better be careful with that hand when my husband gets back. I might not take exception to it, but he will.”
“Mom, he's touching my ankle. I'm pretty sure no one has ever gotten pregnant from that.”
Claire sighs, coughing again. “True.” She lies with Ava for a while. Sam takes his time getting coffee, giving them time. I stay still, trying to blend into the furniture.
“I still know you're there,” Ava says, turning her head toward me. “I don't know how I know that. I could just feel you thinking it.”
“Now you're reading my mind.”
“Maybe. Maybe I just know you really well.”
“That's what love is,” Claire says.
Sam walks in a moment later with a Styrofoam cup and a muffin.
“This was all I could find in the kitchen, but if you want, I can go down to the cafe later and get you something else.”
“No, it's fine.”
Ava takes the muffin and though she doesn't want to eat it, she starts pulling off the top and tearing it into little pieces. Ava always tears her muffins apart before eating them. So many little things to adore about her.
Sam takes a sip of coffee. He takes his black, and the coffee is so old that it is quite potent. He winces before swallowing. “I was thinking that it seems foolish for you to stay in school for the rest of the year. It's only, what? Threeish weeks?”
“Yeah.”
“Exactly. You're not going to miss anything if you get out now. You've finished your exams, right?”
She hasn't, but she says, “Pretty much.” She sends a mental plea for my help and I squeeze her ankle in response. I can forge her writing on anything if need be. I also write faster than she does.
“You'll have plenty of time for school later.”
Ava is shocked by his change of attitude. She is also scared by it. If he is willing to let her stop going to school, it means that Claire is really sick. She wants to ask how bad it is and get a real answer, but she doesn't want to do it in front of Claire.
“Exactly,” Ava says, snuggling closer to Claire. “Exactly.
Ava
As soon as I can, I find a bathroom to throw up in. I remember back when they told me she was terminal and I threw up. That was the same night I met Peter. This time when I throw up, he holds my hair. I'm adding that to the Peter Love list.
“Sorry,” I say out of habit. I seem to be apologizing for anything and everything lately. I'm just such a mess and I'm mad at myself for making him spend so much damn time with me. The Claiming is a burden. I am a burden.
“You're not,” he says, wetting a paper towel and wiping my forehead. I'm so upset and stressed that he's getting all my thoughts clear as a bell. It's such small potatoes at this point that I don't even give a shit.
He helps me to my feet and hands me a glass of water. We're in the handicap bathroom down the hall from Mom's room. We've been here for hours, and soon Dad's going to make me go home. I don't want to leave her.
“I can get you here in four minutes, if need be. Just think of that,” he says, wiping the back of my neck with the cool towel. He follows it with his lips, which are just as nice.
“I just want to go away. Go somewhere else.”
“I know. I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, but she needs you. Your father needs you.”
“I know, I know.” My stomach hurts, my head hurts and my heart hurts, but I know deep down that I'm whining and being a snotty teenager. I need to suck it up. I roll my shoulders back, take a deep breath and swish my mouth out.
“Okay, I'm good. I think.” I stare at my face in the mirror and meet Peter's eyes. He smiles.
“That's my girl.” My heart flutters at his smile. It's better than any happy pill I could take. I know he's struggling with my emotions. I'm sorry for that, but there's nothing I can do. We're going to have to carry this together.
“I really need a toothbrush,” I say, running my tongue on my teeth. Yuck.
“I'll be right back,” he says, sliding through the door and coming back seconds later with a boosted toothbrush and toothpaste.
“Thanks, baby.”
“Anytime.”
Mom and Dad are laughing when Peter and I get back to the room. Flowers and cards are already arriving, and Aj called a couple of times, offering to come down. She says she's not coming until tomorrow, but I'm pretty sure she's on the way, judging by how distracted she was when I talked to her an hour ago, and the fact that I could hear highway noise.
“What's so funny?” I say, motioning for Peter to sit in the chair so I can sit in his lap. He does it, and I prop my feet on Mom's bed.
“Your father was just talking about our honeymoon. Did I ever tell you that on our honeymoon we got attacked by a family of raccoons?”
“Uh, no. Why haven't I heard this story?”
“Well, it was so stupid. We went out for a hike around the island and someone named your father forgot to close the door all the way. When we got back there were at least five raccoons tearing through all our food. I can't remember what you used to shoo them away.”
“It was that broken chair we had on the porch, remember?”
“He was like a lion tamer, trying to get them to go out the back door. I'll never forget the way they hissed and ran around. Of course I was screaming one second and then laughing the next.” Mom starts to laugh again, and tears roll down her face. Dad gets up and does a reenactment for us, and I start giggling. Soon we're all laughing so hard we can't breathe. Well, except for Peter. He does make a really good effort. Gold star.
Dinner arrives for Mom, and Peter and I go down to the cafeteria to get some food. He helps me carry the trays back up and when we walk into the room, Tex and Viktor are there.
“Hey, we just thought we'd stop by and say hi.” They're holding hands and Tex has a strange look on her face. Like she's about ready to explode and shoot rainbows everywhere. Like she just saw a unicorn and got to pet it. I think I know what that look is for, but I really, really can't deal with that right now.
“I know how much you love your tulips, so I thought I'd bring your garden to you,” Tex says, gesturing to a bouquet of baby yellow tulips in a pink vase.
“Thank you, Tex. That was so thoughtful. Thank you for the card as well, and thank your parents for me.”
“I will,” she says, and her happy face falls for a second as she glances at all the tubes, wires and equipment Mom is strapped to. Tex doesn't do well with hospitals. They totally freak her out. I don't know why, because she's never had to stay in one and all her parents and grandparents are alive.
Viktor takes up most of the room. Today his wardrobe consists of black skinny jeans, which he somehow manages to make masculine, and a Pink Floyd t-shirt.
“It's nice to meet you, Viktor, although I wish it were under better circumstances. Still, I've heard so much about you and it's nice to put a face with a name,” Mom says.
“I have heard much about you as well, and I can see where Ava gets her beauty and her spirit from.” Mom blushes at the compliment. Yeah, he's that charming. Dad looks a little uncomfortable.
“Well, we don't want to intrude. I'll see you later, Ava. Nice to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. I hope you get better soon. Bye.” Viktor echoes Tex’s sentiments and leaves.
Peter and I pull up another of the rolling trays, and we all settle in for a family dinner.
“I don't want to be rude, but are you adopted?” Dad asks.
“Yes, all my brothers are. My mother was unable to have children of her own.”
“Oh, I see. Was it difficult for her to adopt as a single mother?”
“She is a lawyer. She has ways of getting what she wants.” Okay, so the first part isn't true, but the second is.
“Are you sure you're not hungry? I'm sure there are plenty of gluten-free and lactose-free options.”
“I will eat when I get home. My mother is very strict about family meals.” Dad is clearly puzzled by the fact that Peter never eats with us, but he has other things on his mind.
“That fruit looks really nice.”
“I'm not that hungry,” Mom says. Understatement of the year. She's barely touched anything. She refuses to eat Jell-O, just like me. The texture of that stuff makes my gag reflex go crazy.
“Claire, you have to eat something.”
“I'll have some later.”
She puts her fork down and pushes the tray away. I glance at Dad, waiting for him to fight her on it, but he doesn't. He sits back and takes a bite of his burger. I munch my salad and Peter watches. We're quiet for the rest of dinner, and soon it's time for me to go home. Dad is going to stay until visiting hours are over for the night. I don't want to leave her, but I'm not going to have a hissy fit. It's juvenile and Mom doesn't need that. So I kiss her on the cheek and say I'll be back in the morning. She tells me to get some sleep and that she loves me.
“Love you more,” I say.
“Not possible,” she says.
I watch her face until we leave the room. I think I'm going to break again, but Peter is there to hold me up and keep me together.
“You're my glue,” I say when we get in my car. He puts me in the passenger seat without even consulting me. I should be angry, but I like this take-charge Peter much more than mean Peter or just-say-no Peter.
When we get to the house, Aj's car is already there. I walk in the door on tiptoes and flash the lights. “The good silver is in the china cabinet. Take it and go.”
“You know that silver is fake, right?” she says, coming out from the kitchen.
“How did you get in?”
“I can't imagine. Could it be the hide-a-key under that fake rock in the garden?”
I narrow my eyes. “How did you know about that? It's supposed to be a secret.”
“I have my ways,” she says, pretending to twirl a mustache. “I see you've got your shadow with you.”
“Yeah, we're pretty much a packaged deal. Right, baby?”
“Right.”
“I never thought I'd see the day when my independent niece would go crazy for a boy. You must be pretty special to keep this one in line.”
“He is,” I say.
“I don't,” he says in response to the second part. “I would never want to tame her.”
“Good. That's what I like to hear. So, who wants dinner?”
“We already ate at the hospital.”
“Really? Damn, I made a crap ton of mac and cheese. Granted, it's from a box, but it's organic.” Aj can't cook, so this is really something.
“Well, in that case.” I hear a loud truck about a mile away. “What's Jamie doing here?”
“Aw, I miss Jamie. I haven't seen him in forever,” Aj says, going to the stove to stir what I hope is the mac and cheese. She turns, snapping her fingers. “Damn, I forgot about your lactose intolerance. Sorry.”
“It's fine. I have already eaten.”
Jamie's truck finally pulls into the driveway and dies. Aj frowns, looking out the window at the pickup.
“Did you know he was coming?” she asks.
“No.” Where is she going with this?
Her eyes narrow. “Then how did you know he was coming?”
“I heard his truck.” Aj looks at me, puzzled. Damn, I shouldn't have said anything. “You know, it's really loud,” I say as I go to the door to let him in.
“Hey, James. How's it going?”
He still has his hands in his pockets. I go to give him a hug, but he lets go fast.
“Dude, what happened to your hand?” Aj says, pointing to a white bandage around Jamie's left hand.
“I was walking and I fell. Had a klutzy moment.” He won't meet my eyes.
“Jamie?”
He looks up and then glances at Peter. I look back and forth at them as they share a moment. Oh shit, she bit him. I want to go ballistic on him, but Aj is here, and I can't drag one more human into this mire.
“Bummer.”
“At least I don't need my hands to run,” he says. I open my mouth to ask him something, but shut it. His heart is already broken. Why drive the knife in deeper?
No wonder she left.
“No, but you need them to block a punch!” Aj fakes a punch at his stomach and he grabs her arm. They have a little struggle, but end up laughing, even though Jamie's dies quickly and his face goes back to sad Jamie. “Not bad. Remember when I used to kick your ass?”
He scoffs as we walk into the living room. “I'm pretty sure that never happened.”
“Oh, it did. I have pictorial evidence.” Jamie rolls his eyes and tugs on his ear, putting his hands in his pockets again.
“So there's a reason I came. I... heard your mom was in the hospital, so I brought these,” he says, going to the porch and retrieving a box. Instead of getting a bouquet, he has a box with a tulip bulb in it.
“I know you hate it when flowers die. This way you can plant it.” The flower on the cover of the box is pure white. “White is supposed to be for purity and healing. I think. I don't know, I think I read that somewhere.”
“Thank you,” I say, swallowing the ball of tears in my throat.
“I also have this.” He pulls a card out of his back pocket. “Don't open it now.”
“Okay.”
There's a pause. Aj fills it.
“So, are you hungry? I have enough mac and cheese for an army, or for a Jamie Barton.”
I think he's going to protest that he shouldn't intrude, but he doesn't.
“Thanks.”
Aj beams, happy to have someone to cook for.
“So how's Claire?” Aj asks. I give her the update as she fills a plate with mac and cheese, green beans and corn for Jamie.
They try to look upbeat, but they know as well as I do that pneumonia isn't good. Her immune system is so compromised that her body just doesn't have the will to fight. But I'm not thinking about that at this particular moment.
“So, Jamie, is there a special lady in your life? I thought I saw a twinkle in your eye.” Aj prods him with her finger, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yeah, there is. But she's away right now.”
“Oh no. When is she coming back?” Aj asks.
“I'm not sure if she is.” He puts his fork down and absentmindedly rubs the gauze on his hand.
“What happened there?”
“Her mom keeps moving them around.”
“I'm sorry, that sucks.”
Jamie meets my eyes and I give him a sad smile. I go over and rest my head on his shoulder.
“Whatever will be, will be,” I say, altering Rasha's quote a little.
“Isn't that from a song?” Jamie says.
“It sounds like it, doesn't it?” I say. Maybe it is.
Jamie stays a little bit longer, talking about everything at school I've missed. It's nice to talk about stupid teenage things for a few minutes. Normally I don’t want to hear about how everyone else's lives are normal and mine isn’t, but I need it now.
“So then Macey walked up to Sarah and threw a bottle of Gatorade right in her face.”
“Seriously? What color was it?”
“Red. So she looked like she was covered in blood.” At the word blood, he flinches involuntarily.
“Jamie, I don't know if it's best that she comes back,” I say, glancing back at Aj to make sure she can't hear. She's busy in the kitchen with her iPod in her ears, jamming out to Mumford and Sons, probably.
“I know what she did was wrong, but can you say Peter's never done the same thing?”
No, I can't. I'm a hypocrite. The reasons he should stay away from Brooke are the same reasons I should stay away from Peter, but I don't. So I don't have a leg to stand on.
“Well, he never chewed on my hand, but he did leave me with this,” I say, showing my neck. There is the tiniest red mark. “And this,” I say, sliding off the wide bracelet I wear to cover up my wrist wound. “It's the price you pay for hanging out with a bloodsucker. It's like being in love with a giant mosquito.”
“Nice, Ave.”
I shrug one shoulder. “It's true.”
“I'm not mad at her. I've tried to tell her a million times that I don't care. It's not her fault that she can't control it. She is what she is, and I can't change that and neither can she. Did I tell you what she did to my dad?”
“No.” This is the first I'm hearing about it.
He shakes his head and tells me how his Dad got drunk one afternoon and Brooke beat him up. Well, she didn't exactly beat him up, but she gave him a good scare. I guess it worked. Jamie says he's been going to work every day and helping around the house. He even went out and bought a brand new crib for Cassie's baby.
“Brooke said he needed a wake-up call. I guess he did. I just hope it lasts.” He's been disappointed so many times in the past. “But at least he's still with me.” He doesn't say alive, but that's what he means. At least he still has a father. Even if he's an ass.
“Is there anything I can do? I'm not sure what that would be, but I'm here. All you have to do is ask,” he says.
“I don't know, Jamie. I just want it to go away. I just want it to stop. I want to go back in time, or to change my life, or something.”
“I'm so sorry for you, Ave. If I could change it, I would.”
“I know.” He rubs my hand with his. “I love you.”
“I love you. I'm only a phone call away. I can get in my truck at 3 a.m. if I have to. Anytime. Anywhere.”
“Thanks.” I give him a hug, and he picks me up off my feet, spinning me around. It's been so long since he did that.
“We need a Miller's date soon.”
“Absolutely. As soon as possible.”
He gives me a kiss on the cheek and then leaves, his truck sputtering down the road.
“He is a good friend. I am glad you have good humans in your life.”
“I'm glad I have good immortals, too.”