My Life After Now - By Jessica Verdi Page 0,40

No one could explain it but me.

I did the only thing I could think to do. I held my breath and shoveled a heaping spoonful of steak and kidney pie into my mouth. It was the slimiest, most unappetizing thing I had ever tasted, but I forced a smile. “Delicious,” I said through a full mouth.

Lisa smiled widely with satisfaction and my dads relaxed.

Papa went into the kitchen to carve his turkey, Dad started spooning out the sides, and the four of us continued our English-inspired Thanksgiving.

• • •

Papa made me go back to the support group on Friday, even though I’d insisted it was pointless.

“Hi, Lucy,” June said when I walked in.

“Oh, um, hi,” I said. I was surprised she remembered my name; I hadn’t even spoken to her on Tuesday.

She smiled at me like she was waiting for me to start a conversation, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “Um, how’s your granddaughter?” And then I wanted to kick myself, because I realized that was probably the absolute wrong question to ask. But it was the only thing I knew about her, besides the fact that she had HIV or AIDS, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that.

Luckily, though, June didn’t seem to mind the question. “She’s great, thank you for asking.”

I wondered if she had been allowed to hold her yet, but I didn’t dare ask.

“Lucy! You came back!” Roxie’s voice sing-songed from the other side of the room. She came over to where June and I were standing and handed me a mini bottle of water. I noticed that her nails were painted aqua blue today.

“Yeah,” I said.

Roxie checked the time on her cell phone. It was a flip phone, like the one Dad had had when I was a little kid. I hadn’t seen a phone like that in a long time—everyone I knew had smart phones now.

“All right everyone, let’s get started,” she called out to the room, and we found our seats. “Who would like to begin today?”

Unlike last time, no one spoke up.

“I’ll go first then,” she said. I found myself sitting up a little straighter in my chair, eager to hear what she was going to say.

“There was a blood drive at work on Wednesday.” She gave a you-all-know-where-this-is-going smile. “The head of my department, of all people, was the one who organized it, and actually closed our office for an hour so we could all go down and donate. I felt so…so stuck, you know? I didn’t want to look like this horrible person who was refusing to give blood for no good reason, but I didn’t want to tell anyone the truth, either. I haven’t been working there that long, but I know that if everyone found out, things would get real awkward real fast. And I really need this job.”

“So what did you do?” someone asked.

“I ended up going down there with everyone, like everything was all good, and then pretending to get super queasy and lightheaded at the sight of the blood bags. The technician was totally apologetic, but told my boss he couldn’t take blood from someone in my condition. Problem solved.” She grinned.

Roxie was being pretty good-natured about the whole thing, but I imagined myself in the same situation and knew it couldn’t have been easy for her. I felt a stab of sympathy and then realized that someday, maybe even sometime soon, I would be faced with a predicament like that too. Maybe it would be a blood drive, or maybe it would be something else. When you had HIV, everything was complicated. Even a simple day at work could turn into an ordeal.

A few more people shared and then there was another stretch of silence. I could feel it coming; I didn’t even have to look her way. Sure enough…

“Lucy, we’d love to get to know you a little better,” Roxie said. “Do you feel comfortable sharing tonight?”

I really didn’t want to talk. But all eyes were on me, and since I knew that Papa was going to keep making me come to these things, I figured I may as well spit out something now and get it over with rather than having Roxie single me out every time.

“I don’t really know what to say,” I admitted. “I’m new at this.”

“Why don’t you start with why you’re here,” Roxie suggested.

“I’m here because my parents are making me.” That got a few laughs.

“Points for honesty,” she said.