doze off. She didn't speak to him again, she just fell asleep, holding his hand, and he stood there and cried as he watched her. She looked so tired and so sad, and so broken, all covered in bandages, her beautiful hair like flame, and her body so badly injured.
He tiptoed quietly from the room once she was asleep, and signaled to the nurse that he was leaving. And as he rode down the elevator, he thought of what Alex had said to him. That he could walk away from this, and go home. It wasn't happening to him, just to her. And as he walked slowly home, he couldn't deny it. He was still whole, he wasn't in danger. He had nothing to fear, except losing her, which was so intensely frightening, he couldn't face it. He looked at himself in a store window on the way home, and saw the same man he had always been. Nothing had changed, except that he knew he had lost part of himself that afternoon, the part that was irretrievably bound to Alex. She was leaving him, bit by bit, just as his parents had left him, and he wasn't going to let her take him down with her. She had no right to do that to him, to expect him to die with her. And as he thought of it, he walked home as briskly as he could, as though there were muggers running after him, or demons.
Chapter 7
When Alex woke up the next day, there was a woman sitting in the chair, waiting for her, and the nurse was changing her intravenous. There was relatively little pain, just as Dr. Herman had said, but there was a weight on her heart the size of Hoover Dam as she remembered what had happened.
The woman smiled at her, she was wearing a flowered dress and she had gray hair, and Alex had no idea who she was as she watched her.
“Hi, I'm Alice Ayres. I thought I'd come to see how you're doing.” She had a warm smile and lively blue eyes and she looked old enough to be Alex's mother. Alex tried to sit up, but that was hard, and instead the nurse raised her bed, so she could talk to the woman who'd come to see her.
“Are you a nurse?”
“No, just a friend. I'm a volunteer. I know just what you're going through, Mrs. Parker. Or may I call you Alexandra?”
“Alex.” She stared at her, unable to comprehend what the woman was doing there. Alex's breakfast arrived then, but she told the nurse she didn't want it. It was all soft diet after surgery but all she wanted was a cup of coffee.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Mrs. Ayres said to her as Alex waved her breakfast tray away. “You need your strength and plenty of nutrition.” She was a little like the Fairy Godmother in “Cinderella.” “How about some oatmeal?”
“I hate hot cereal,” Alex said, sounding belligerent, and staring at the older woman. “Who are you and why are you here?” It was all very surrealistic.
“I'm here because I've had the same operation that you did. I know what it's like, and how you feel, probably better than most people do, maybe even your husband. I know how angry you are and how scared you are, and how shocked, and how you feel about the way you'll look. I've had reconstructive surgery,” she explained, handing Alex her cup of coffee. “I'd be happy to show it to you, if you like. It looks pretty good, in fact, it's very good. I don't think most people would know I'd had a breast removed. Would you like to see it?” Alex thought that sounded disgusting.
“I'd rather not, thanks.” Dr. Herman had already explained that she could have an implant put in, and her remaining nipple either “shared” with the other breast, or an artificial one tattooed on the implant. The whole thing sounded horrible, and not worth the trouble. She was wrecked anyway. Why not just leave it? “Why did you come and see me? Who asked you to?”
“Your surgeon put you on the list for visits from our support group. Eventually, you might want to join us for a group, or talk to some of the women about their experiences. It can be very helpful.”
“I don't think so.” Alex glared at her, wishing she would leave, but not wanting to say it. “Pd rather not discuss this