“I’m trying not to.”
“It’ll be fine.”
She squeezes my hand. “I have to go back. I don’t want him taken into surgery without me knowing it.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I’ll come get you and we can wait together for him,” she says.
“Sure.”
She goes back to wait with him and I call Luke.
“Hey you,” he says. “How’s it going down there?”
“It’s going okay. I wish I was home.”
“I wish you were home too. How’s what’s-his-name, the nephew?”
“He’s a mess.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean his right calf is missing, and his left leg is broken. He’s in surgery getting it fixed now. It’s awful. He yelled at us both to leave the room. Estella burst into tears.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Fine. Estella took some kind of sleeping pill last night and I was worried she’d killed herself.”
“Yeah, try not to let her kill herself.”
“Thank you. How’s work?”
“It’s lonesome. Boring. All the eye-candy is gone.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’m not eye-candy.”
“Yes you are. Hey, a guest found a pit in the cherry granita last night,” he says.
“Oh no! You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not kidding. Fortunately, she didn’t chip a tooth. Even more fortunately, you weren’t the one who pitted the cherries.”
Oh wow, Dad must be completely losing it. “Who did it?”
“Dave.”
“Did Dad can him?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yes. And now your father’s going ape over all of us. At least out there you can keep out of the line of fire.”
I knew Dad would be mad as hell. “I’m in a line of fire of my own. That guy Julian hates my guts.”
“He probably doesn’t want to have people gaping at him. Stay away. You don’t know him anyway.”
“True.” I know Luke’s right. I don’t know Julian, and he is hurt, so of course he doesn’t want me around. But does he have to be so adamant about it? I know I shouldn’t take this personally, but I kind of do.
“When you get home, come for the whole night. Don’t leave at six,” Luke says.
Oh no—now he’s asking for the impossible. “How will I manage that?”
“Tell your father you’re spending the night at a friend’s house.”
“Taryn’s not back yet.”
“Tell him it’s with someone else.”
Who? I wonder. It might be nice to not have to wake up and leave his house so early, but not if it means I get caught. “Maybe. We’ll figure something out.”
I say goodbye to Luke, then call Dad to give him the update.
“What’s going on?” he asks. “How’s Estella?”
“She’s fine. So, Julian’s moving into our house with us this winter?”
Dad pauses. “He’s like a son to her, and he’s going to need some help.”
“I heard about the plan to give him my room.”
“There’s no other place he can go, Camille. We have no choice. Think about it from his point of view. How difficult it’s going to be for him to readjust to life now.”
“I know. But still...”
“You’ll be moving out for college next year anyway,” he points out.
Oh no. Not this can of worms again. After letting me train to be a chef for half my life, my father, in all his wisdom, now insists that doing this for a career is too hard and what I need to make sure I have a good future is a college degree. I don’t want to be anything other than a chef. But Dad wants me to have the kind of “flexibility” and “earning potential” I can get by having both a chef’s capability and an advanced education. I think it’s more about him having to drop out of school to work and never being able to go to a university himself. “Can we not get into this now? Sorry, but I have enough to deal with at the moment.”
“Fine. We’ll discuss it later.”
Again. For the millionth damned time. “Goody, I can’t wait. Hold on, Estella just came in.”
I hand my phone to her, telling her it’s Dad, and the two of them talk for a while. I try not to listen to all the “I love yous.” When she hangs up, we go to the waiting room for the families of people in surgery.
This room is insane. It’s full of stress, thick with it. The occupants have that look in their eyes, like they’re watching each minute tick past. “Maybe we should wait in the hall,” I suggest to Estella.
“No. I have to be here in case there’s word.” She flips through a magazine without really looking at it and sets it down again. “Julian’s being adamant about his privacy. He doesn’t want to receive any fanfare or get any press. No hero’s welcome or calls of support. He doesn’t even want to get in contact with old buddies of his who are still at the base.” Estella’s speaking to me, but to herself really. Her eyes are distant. “I think it’s for the best, him wanting to keep everything so quiet. But I’m not sure.”
I don’t know what to say to this. I wish I did. “Vermont’s a good place for privacy,” I finally—and lamely—tell her.
She squeezes my hand and we sit. For what feels like the longest block of time in my entire life we sit. Finally, the doctor comes in and Estella goes over to him.
“He’s in recovery,” she says when she returns to me. Once again, it strikes me that Estella, who’s usually so well put-together, seems frazzled. Her clothes are sloppier, just jeans and a blouse. Her long dark hair is a mess in its ponytail. She’s wearing almost no makeup, other than the mascara she’s rarely without, and this is smeared. Her eyes are puffy and faintly bloodshot.
“Go see him,” I suggest.
She sighs and her shoulders sag. “You come with me.”
“Estella, that’s not a good idea. Julian doesn’t want me near him.”
“But I need the moral support,” she says, and I go with her. We head for recovery and the first thing I see when I spot Julian in the room full of post-surgery patients is that he’s vomiting onto the floor.
Estella forgets I exist. She races to him, finds towels and throws them over the vomit, then wipes his face with more towels. She’s gentle about it. He’s hanging his head over the bed rail and she’s cradling his face, repositioning him back on the pillows. This isn’t even her son, and yet she is a beautiful mother. Suddenly I don’t just like her, I admire her. She’s stepping on the towels—the ones covering the vomit. She doesn’t care. She just wants to smooth his hair and fix his blankets and touch little bits of him.
The nurse comes over and starts taking care of him, and meanwhile Julian takes Estella’s hand and holds it. I turn away and leave them to go back out and wait in the hallway.
Chapter Five
While the patient continues