they became dust. Everything, like dust. The whole world a barren place.
“Do you need a glass of water?” she heard Saraub ask from far away, as if beneath a bathtub full of water.
“I have cheese. I could cut the freezer burn off,” Jayne volunteered. “Do you want some cheese? Or half a pita pocket?”
Audrey shook her head. She grinned at her stupid friend. A mean grin. Saraub stroked her neck with too-warm fingers.
“It’s cheddar or American, I can’t tell the difference,” Jayne said, then reached down under her bandage and began to scratch.
Audrey looked at the woman. “No, thanks,” she said. The mean grin left her face. Jayne was crying. Saraub’s eyes were wet, too. Here she was, numb and furious, and here were her friends, crying for her. The vine got smaller.
“Or tea. I could make a cup of tea…What can I do?” Jayne pleaded, still scratching. Her sore broke open and began to bleed.
“Stop picking,” Audrey said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Jayne said.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s just, stop hurting yourself,” Audrey told her.
Jayne’s face crumbled as she closed up the gauze. She squinted to keep from crying. Audrey reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Hey. It’s okay. Thank you. You’re helping. Really.”
Jayne nodded, wet-eyed, and smiled heartbreakingly. The vine curled itself small again, a worm that lay in wait. Audrey turned to Saraub, and though she didn’t yet feel the sentiment, she knew that soon, she would. “You were right. It’s better it came from you.”
Saraub leaned in, and said probably the only thing she wanted to hear. “I love you.”
She scooted off the chair, and onto the floor, where she buried her wet nose in his chest. He put one arm around her back, the other around her bottom, so that he held her whole body. There, finally, she cried. Soft sobs. “I hate her. But I love her, too.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Saraub answered.
“I know what you mean,” Jayne said. “It hurts more because you wish it could have been different. And now it might not ever be.”
Audrey nodded. “She was bad, but when I look back, I wasn’t so great either. I blamed her for everything. Even when I was thirty years old. She was practically a vegetable, living in a group home, and I wanted her to tell me I was pretty. I wanted her to cook me dinner and make up for all those years she’d screwed up. I blamed her for everything. I held it over her head that I was a waitress, because she needed me in town to help her, and there weren’t any jobs in architecture in Omaha. But the thing is, there were jobs. If I hadn’t been high all the time, I could have applied for one. I just…it was easier to hate her than do something about it.”
Jayne nodded. “Isn’t it funny? When you have to raise yourself, you never really grow up.”
“I guess we can grow up now, if we want. Can’t we?” Audrey asked.
Jayne shrugged. “Good luck with that.”
Audrey smiled.
Saraub cleared his throat, and she could tell he was uncomfortable. He’d never been big on discussing feelings, or, for that matter, criticizing loved ones. “Is there anyone I should call?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure she liked the question. Did it mean he wanted to leave? “Well…” she said.
“Are you seeing someone?” Saraub asked.
“Like a shrink?” she asked.
He tried to hide his amusement when he answered by looking down. “No, like a dude.”
“Of course not.”
Suddenly, Jayne jumped up. “I’m going to leave you guys alone, but I’ll be next door if you need me.” She winked, not at all subtlely, at Audrey.
“Okay,” Audrey said. Then she added, because she knew Jayne would be pleased to hear it. “I had…it was fun, Jayne. I had a nice time with you.”
Jayne’s entire face brightened. She lingered before hopping away on her crutches. “Me, too. So, I know this is bad timing and all, but if you’re in town, you should come to my act. It’ll cheer you up. Also, I’ll need the moral support. And then I’ll give you support back, too. That’s what friends do. I’ll buy new cheese and cook for you.”
Holding her crutches for her, Saraub came to Jayne’s side and took her arm.
“It’s a deal,” Audrey said as she rose, and walked with them.
“I’m sorry about your mom, Addie. It hurts my stomach to think you’re sad…but don’t forget about my act. She grinned widely at Saraub, then back at Audrey.