our ups and downs, but all things considered, they turned out all right.”
“You and your wife must be proud.” I shot a quick glance toward the old woman, just in time for her to cast her gaze downward and turn her back to the room.
“Well, I can’t speak much for my wife, but I know I am.”
***
When I was six, my parents moved my sisters and me to Long Island. They had bought an old house down by the bay, in a town called Islip, and that was where I met my imaginary friend, Jamie.
Jamie never spoke, and that had struck me as strange initially, but after a while, I welcomed her silence and learned to communicate in spite of it. At the time, my sisters were mean teenagers, and the kids at school had been even meaner, so to face Jamie with nothing but a smile on her sweet face was a nice change from my norm. She’d offered a kind, listening ear, and kept me company on lonely Saturdays spent in my room. And although I think I had always expected her to disappear when I no longer needed her around, I enjoyed our time together and never took a second of it for granted.
But Jamie never disappeared.
As I grew in years and height, Jamie stayed young and small, and it wasn’t until I knew of the passing of a little girl in my parents’ house that I understood why. And with Jamie, came others, old and young. In the grocery store. At the mall. At school. I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the dead, and I learned very quickly how distracting they can be, once they knew of my ability to see them. Dates were ruined, relationships failed, and I entered adulthood under the resignation that, if I couldn’t turn my sixth sense off, I’d have to accommodate it, with zero room for anything else.
And when you live your life a certain way, it becomes routine. You might look at someone else’s life and think to yourself, wow, that must be nice. But then, you just carry on living without a second thought because that’s all you know to do. There is nothing else, and it’s fine.
But there was nothing fine about facing Vinnie Marino.
This wasn’t a fleeting thing. This wasn’t a quick glance at a hot guy and a just-as-quick glance away. And I hated to admit I had a crush on him, but dammit, wasn't that exactly what this was?
The sloshing somersault my stomach performed at the sight of him coming out of the elevator told me the answer to that question.
He entered the ward, pushed along by a cool and casual air that I was both attracted to and envious of. I knew he wouldn't notice me at the desk. I knew, that to guys like him, I blended in with the plain and sterile environment, but Lord, what I wouldn't give for him to glance my way and acknowledge me. Just for the thrill and excitement of being noticed by a guy any girl would brag to her friends about.
“Hey.”
The rapid process of my thoughts came to a screeching halt, realizing he had stopped at the counter and was now staring me down with warm eyes and a reluctant half-smile.
I shook my head and quickly gathered my bearings, before replying, “Hi, Vinnie. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to apologize for being such a dick earlier. I jumped to conclusions and—”
“Everybody reacts differently to traumatic news like this. There's absolutely nothing to apologize for.”
He was quiet for a moment, as he stared at his fingers, erratically tapping against the counter. He was nervous and I was sure he had questions he didn't know how to ask. Nobody ever does.
As he struggled with words, I quickly shot a sideways glance and saw the older woman from his father's room. I had seen her periodically throughout my shift but there was a reluctance in her presence. She was cautious, moving into the room and hallway with uncertainty. I thought for a moment that she was new to this, being here but not. But, I was quick to realize that, no, that wasn't it. There was a distance between her and this family, yet she was still tethered tightly to them.
She looked at Vinnie, while clutching a hand tightly to her chest. The fingers of her other hand reached out and brushed against his shoulder. I wondered if he felt it. People usually do,