NEVER GOODBYE (An Albany Boys Novel) (30 page)

              “Matt Damon? Take it back.”

              “Nooo.”’

              His fingers assault again and I’m screaming the house down. “Take it back, Blue.”

              “P … pass,” I gasp in between fits. Thank God I can hold my pee in because that would have been too embarrassing.

              He stops, pulls me to him and wipes my face of the tears. “You used a pass.”

              “I know.”

              “We’ve come a long way since the day of that agreement.”

              “I know. Everyday gets better when I’m with you. That party changed my life.”

              “You changed my life, Blue.”

              “Do you think we need the pass anymore, I mean I don’t think there’s ever going to be something I can’t share with you or do with you.”

              His fingers tangle into my hair and bring my forehead to his lips. I love how he kisses me like that. “There isn’t anything I can’t or won’t share with you, but you know what? I want you to keep your passes, because I want to know that you
choose
to share instead of using a pass when it gets a little tough and it will. Life is like that and I plan on spending the rest of mine with you. So keep those passes.”

              I kiss his tender lips and tuck my face into his neck. “When did you become smarter than me?”

              His chuckle vibrates through his throat against my cheek. “I’m smart when it becomes about you and me and that’s all that matters.”

              “I love you, Vaun Campbell.”

              “I loved you first, Harper Blue Kennedy.”

              I laugh, “My middle name is not Blue.”

              “Shut up and kiss me.”

              I do.

Vaun.

              Fucking hell, I hate seeing her like this. A loose strand falls from her bun and I grab it quickly before it ends up in her puke.

              Every muscle in her body is tense as she convulses again.

              I’ve lost count how many times she’s been sick. Apparent they gave her drugs to help, but they obviously have nothing up against the shit that’s pumping into her veins.

              She holds out her sick bowl to her dad and he takes it, without complaint, out of the room. I know exactly where he keeps taking them because I’ve done a billion times for my mom. This room hasn’t changed much. Her dad always comes back with a new bowl while I wipe her face with a damp cloth and smile so she knows I’m okay. If she thinks I’m struggling as much as I am, she’ll kick me out and I’ll never be able to be there for her again and I can’t have that.

              “I can tell, ya’ know,” she croaks.

              I wipe her eyes that are watering. “Tell what, babe?”

              “You have your fake smile on. You don’t have to do that. I know it’s hard, but I need you to promise …” she swallows, “when it gets too much that you take a hike.”

              “When will you get it into that thick, pretty head of yours that I’m never leaving your side.”

              She smiles and I go to kiss her, but she ducks and I end up kissing her ear.

              “Spew breath.”

              “Oh.” I laugh and so does she. Thank God because I can handle a lot of things, but if she were robbed of her smile or laugh I think I’d fall apart at her feet.

              Her dad is smiling at us from his chair and winks at me. He’s always so quiet and I wonder if he is a quiet kind of guy or just around me.

              We have been here for three hours, in a room with five other patients in armchairs identical to Blue’s. They’re all hooked up to bags of poison that make them sick just so they can live another day. It makes me realize how many other loved ones are struggling just like us. Some may have been struggling since I was last here. Although Blue seems to be the youngest here, I know it makes hers no more devastating than theirs.

              She’s on the last dregs of her bag and then I can take her home. She hates it here; she was actually complaining how sick she felt as soon as we come through the entrance of the hospital. I think it might be the smell that triggers her psyche so I know she will feel better as soon as we’re free to leave.

              Blue stands and she’s a bit wobbly, but me and her father jump to her aid when she waves us off. “I just need to pee.”

              “I’ll take you,” her dad says and I back away and watch him hold her elbow as she shuffles herself and her pole out of the room. I fall into her chair, close my eyes for a minute and, I don’t know how, but I fall asleep. I’m woken with a start to Blue slipping into my lap and curling into a ball as I wrap my arms around her and hold her.

              She’s exhausted and falls asleep almost straight away and I kiss her forehead even though she can’t feel it, but I can.

Her hair still smells sweet and it drowns out the antiseptic that has soaked into my pores, so I keep tucked into her hair and breathe her in. I love her hair, I love the way it shines different colors of blonde and brown in the sun. How it drifts in the breeze. How soft it is and void of hairsprays and shit other gals use. I breathe her sweet hair in and out and, once again, I fall asleep, dreaming about the night we met until a sharp beeping wakes me.

It wakes us both and her dad stands and stretches beside us, “all done.”

“Thank God,” she says and slides off my lap, rubbing her stomach. Blue’s still a little wobbly but she waves off our help as nurse Wendy joins us. I get a stern warning to get off the chair so that Blue can have it back but it’s followed by a wink. Jeez.

Sheepishly I get up and Blue sits, smiling at me. Nurse Wendy is small, tough and funny. She’s also the key to us getting out of here so I’m quick to do as she says, always adding ‘yes, ma’am’ when I talk to her.

Blue’s been loaded up with more anti-sickness drugs and, before we know it, I’m in the back of Mister Kennedy’s car with Blue’s head resting on my shoulder, a small supply of sick bags by our side and a separate bag of drugs. We’re on our way home and on our way back to normal.

All she wishes for as we begin our trip is a bath, so as soon as we get home, that’s the first thing I will do for her.

I have to give her father credit; he is one tough son of a bitch. I’m watching his face in the rear view mirror and he’s concentrating on the road so he doesn’t see me. He’s actually a silent hero. He’s lost his wife, the love of his life, in every aspect but presence. He’s had to work like a soldier to keep the medical bills at bay, his children fed and then gets slammed with the fear of losing one of them. He doesn’t give up. He doesn’t complain, he just keeps doing.

As I drift off I watch him and hope that one day I will grow up to be a fraction of the man and father he is.

Harper

              I feel like a bit of a princess. There are candles lighting up the tiled room, the bath is hot and filled with bubbles. I will have to wait to die, I tell my sore and exhausted body, because I want to wash my hair, which is getting in my face and annoying me.

              I pull the loose hair tie out so I can sink into the water and melt the day away. I must admit though, I feel so much better than last time. I don’t know if I’m getting better at it or I’m loaded with more Zofran this time, or if it’s because I had Vaun by my side, but it’s a hell of a lot easier than my first time. Don’t get me wrong, I have thrown up twice since leaving the hospital, but other than exhausted, I feel alright.

              My hair is free and the slight pull of water at its ends makes me sigh. And that’s when I see it. My hands. It’s in my hands and I scream.

              I don’t know if I scream for a long time or just once, but I’m jolted by the banging on the bathroom door which is now a blur through my tears.

              “
Blue
?”

              “
Harper
?”

              Both Dad and Vaun are banging and yelling for me, but all I can do is cry and look at my blurry hands.

              “Please baby, open the door. Talk to me even. Your dad has gone to get something to unlock the door, just talk to me.”

              I croak as I try and then I just sob some more. I can hear him calling to me, his voice croaking with emotion, and I sob harder. It’s so unfair.

              “
Fuck
. Please, baby. Hang in there, we’re coming. We’re coming, Blue.”

              “Harper. Daddy’s here. Hold on a sec.”

              I can hear the metal of the door knob and then it swings open and hits the wall with a bang and both Dad and Vaun are by the bath hushing me. Dad wraps a towel around me; most of it’s in the water. Vaun is stroking my face and I look at him holding up my hands.

              “Look,” I sob.

              “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

              My dad strokes the back of my head, my hair and I scream and jerk away making the water lap the edge of the bath, wetting them.

              “Don’t touch it! It’s coming out.” I shake and cry and hold my hands out for them to see. “It’s all coming out.”

              Vaun reaches into the water and pulls me out. I’m dripping everywhere and my damp hands still have loads of my hair stuck to them, but I don’t want to brush them free. He takes me to my room and to my bed where he wraps us both under the blanket and my dad watches from the doorway.

              Vaun reaches around me and takes my hands in his. At first I fight it, but he persists and whispers in my ear, “It’s okay to let it go.”

              I slowly make my muscles relax, allowing him to bring my hands down to the bed. He asks my dad to get a towel to brush away the hair.

              I don’t want to brush it away, but I don’t want to look at my hair anymore.

              Dad is back and wiping my hands clean. He kisses my cheek and sits on the floor by my bed, watching my every move like I might break any second. Well, he’s too late. I start to cry again, I cry and cry until darkness and fatigue takes me to a place where there is peace. A place where I’m healthy and I have hair.

              When I wake, it’s still dark, but the sun is beginning to rise. I’m still curled in Vaun’s arms and my dad is asleep against the wall beside me. I’m damp or maybe it’s the blankets, but I’m warm and I feel stupid. I reacted like a Barbie bitch. I knew I was going to lose my hair. I did. Yet seeing it in my hands like that broke something in me. I’m a girl and I don’t want to lose my hair and I know how irrational that sounds, but fuck it. Girls want hair, most want my hair and now it’s going to be gone too.

              Vaun stirs and then jolts awake when he sees me. “Blue, are you okay, babe?”

              I nod and raise my finger to my lips, motioning for him to be quiet. I get up, adjusting the towel, and head for the bathroom with Vaun in tow. The water is still in the bath and the floor mat is saturated. I reach in and pull the plug as Vaun closes the door.

              I turn and sit on the bath and look at Vaun. He’s scared and I hate that I have done this to him. I reach out and he takes my hand and sits on the bath edge with me, wrapping his arm around me. “I’m sorry.”

              “Blue, don’t.”

              “Let me finish,” he takes a deep breath and nods so I continue. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I freaked out over something trivial.”

              “Babe. It’s not trivial to you, to gals. I’m not dense. That kind of stuff matters, but let me tell you this …” he strokes my hair and I let him, “you will be just as beautiful without hair as you are with it.”

              I shake my head because I know it to be a lie; he just wants me to feel better. Jesus I love him.

              “Hair means nothing to me.
You
mean the world to me. To show you how much hair means to me―” He stands and is squatting by the vanity and pulling out the clippers.

              Oh my God.

              He plugs it in and when the burr noise invades my ears. I jump and I pull on the chord so it flies from his hand before it touches his precious, beautiful hair.  “No!”

              “Why not?”

              “Because one of has to have pretty hair and it might as well be you.”

              He looks at me with a smile. “I’m going to shave it off so we can go all Sinead together.” 

              “Are you crazy?”

              He shrugs, “Probably. Crazy for you … definitely.”

              I jump into his arms. My towel gapes and unravels and I kiss him. I kiss him like crazy until he pulls away breathless, and quite obviously excited.

I’m practically naked, my hair is falling out and he still wants me. How does a girl get someone as special and crazy in her life like him?

***

For days I lose more of my hair. We find it everywhere; it’s completely insane and disgusting. I’m left to roll it in a loose bun now so you can’t see the small thin and balding spots I’ve developed. But I reach my breaking point when Benny, Dad, Vaun and I sit down to dinner and Benny pulls a face. It’s the face he pulls when April talks about boys and sex just to gross him out. He puts his fingers in the mashed potatoes and just when I’m about to say something about his manners, he pulls something from it. It’s long and stringy and I gasp because I know what it is.

“That’s it!” I slam my knife and fork on the table. Everyone jumps and Benny drops my mash blobbed hair. “I’m shaving it off.”

“Angel,” Dad pleads, but I’m not listening and I put my palm out for them to halt any argument.

“No. If it wasn’t bad enough that I’m malting like a sick cat, our dinner is being ruined by it. I need to face it. My hair has to go.”

“It’s all good, Harp. I’ll still eat it.” Benny shoves a fork full of potato in his mouth and I leap across to stop him, but it’s too late. “See. It still tastes good,” he mumbles past the mush in his mouth and swallows.