I ask her, seemingly randomly, once she’s out of sight. I’m thinking about Giovanni and wondering if he’d tell anyone. Part of me hopes we are kicked out, because I don’t ever want to see him again.
“Of what?”
“The apartment.”
“No.” She peeks her head around the door frame and looks at me as if I’ve just asked if she’s from the moon. “Why would we be kicked out?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. No money to pay the rent?”
She disappears back into the washroom and starts to run the tap to fill the vase.
“I got a job!” she shouts over the rush of water. “Assistant to a tax guy. Not bad pay. Totally flexible hours. I can probably even do some work on the sly when I’m on my maternity leave.”
My mom returns to the room holding the vase and puts it on my windowsill. I instantly smell the fragrance. About two seconds later, Alexis appears, her hands clasped together like she’s praying for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sullivan, Melissa can’t receive any gifts while she’s here. And she can’t have the vase—it’s glass.”
“Oh … okay.” My mom fumbles and quickly picks up the vase. I’ve never seen her so obedient.
“She can keep the teddy bear, but we have to lock it up.”
“A teddy bear?” my mom questions, then immediately backs off. “Okay. I’ll put it in her room at home.” She looks a little hurt. She was already told yesterday by Alexis that she couldn’t put up all the holiday decorations she had brought with her. A big bagful, that I’m sure cost her a lot.
For a second, I get a flash of Bradley. His hospital room. Full of flowers and Christmas ornaments and cookie boxes and Cellophane-wrapped gift baskets. It’s funny, I haven’t thought once about the fact that it’s my first time in a hospital since he died. And about how all this must be weird on a whole other level for my mom.
Alexis goes back to her guard chair at the doorway and my mom sits awkwardly on the plastic cushioned bench for a bit. I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the wall. I feel my mom staring at me for some time, and then I hear her pick up a magazine and flip through it.
I’m thinking about Michael. I imagine what he’d say if he saw me now. He’d probably be relieved he dumped me when he did. But then I shake my head to lose him from my mind, because now, thinking of him makes me feel a little sick to my stomach. I’m embarrassed at how pathetic I’ve been over losing him. And there’s this faint, faint whisper inside my head that’s saying maybe my overdose was also about him.
“Well, I guess I’ll get going,” my mom says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Bye,” I say blankly, not lifting my gaze from the wall.
She gets up, kisses me on the forehead, stops at the doorway to talk to Alexis for a bit, and then leaves.
Later, Alexis convinces me to go eat my dinner in the common room with the others. I do it for her really, ’cause I prefer to just eat alone in my room. There are four other patients in there: the two younger boys and one new girl, older than me, with her blue gown halfway down her shoulders, almost showing her whole boobs. At the end of the table, looking totally nuts, is the pimply, skinny guy I saw yesterday. I can tell he’s been here a long time because the two staff around him look exhausted and are barely containing their annoyance.
Alexis gets my cardboard plate off the trolley. She opens the Styrofoam container and unveils my gourmet meal: macaroni and cheese and dessert. “It’s been opened,” I remark, referring to the cutlery package.
“Oh, it’s okay. They just take out the knives,” she answers.
Whatever. I eat red Jell-O dessert first. It’s like swallowing live kid-ness. I can see why children like it so much, all jiggly on the spoon and smooth down your throat. I think of Bradley and me eating it for dessert, and then Bradley squeezing it out between his teeth like he was bleeding, and our mom yelling at him.
“Yaah … yeahh … heeahhh …” This loud, ugly voice trips me on my warm and fuzzy stroll down memory lane. Psycho boy is flinging his food onto the floor. Not in a silly way, but in an angry way. Instead of yelling at