Night Swimming (26 page)

Blossom made her way back home. It was late when she got there, almost midnight when she walked down to the pool. How often it had soothed her, helped her to disentangle from the complicated strings that life had attached to it. It had been the place she could come to hold confusion at bay. But now all those hours in the water felt as if she’d only been swimming upstream. She was so tired.

She slipped in and pushed off, breaking the stillness in half. Back and forth, back and forth, she began her laps. Distant thunder rolled in from the valley, and rain started to fall. But she felt nothing. Hot tears fell from her eyes only to dissolve beneath the wash of the cold water. Sometimes, she thought, even the sky needed to have a good cry.
I’ve lost everything. Money, love, hope.

Today someone will fall off a ladder and hit his head; today someone will realize the proverbial prediction of being hit by a bus; today all the little cells will continue their death march inside my body. So arbitrary, so inevitable. We live; we die... someone else is born. No matter how rich or famous a person is, it just doesn’t matter. We all have our day to die. On the day Jason Robards died, someone was laughing at a joke; on the day Jack Lemmon died, someone was throwing a birthday party. On the day I die, Skip will be watering the lawn. Life is so unfair; it just goes on without you.

She plunged below the clear black surface, wishing the water would just close over her forever. Even her brain hurt, thinking about it all.

Dolly, you tell me I must love myself before I can love another. You tell me that sometimes when a situation is at its worst, it can bring out our best. You tell me that I can grow through my pain if I learn acceptance, especially of myself. But I can’t, Dolly; I can’t. I am trying to, but I can’t. People need love; I need love. I’m all need and loneliness right now, Dolly. And you tell me that the one thing I need I can’t have, just because I need it the most. There are too many lessons to learn, Dolly, and I just can’t do it. I just can’t do it.

She didn’t remember exiting the pool and standing in the rain for hours. She didn’t remember walking across the lawn and climbing the stairs with the new light breaking against the eastern sky. She didn’t remember being dripping wet when she knocked on Dolly’s door at five in the morning, crying under the enormous burden of sadness and secrets. And she didn’t remember standing in the hall, holding on to the doorjamb, with an ache in her heart so great, it was as if it had been split by an ax.

“I have to talk to you, Dolly. I need to tell someone the truth.”

Dolly took her in and put her to bed. The next day she would hear the entire story, unedited and untold to a single soul—until now.

CHAPTER 42

W
HEN
B
LOSSOM OPENED HER EYES
, she was in bed. But not hers. She looked around and saw that she was in Dolly’s guest room, and the events of the nights before came rushing back. Dolly was there in a chair by the bed, smiling gently at her. “At last, Sleeping Beauty arises.” And then Blossom spoke, emptying her heart, a heart she thought had nothing left in it to empty. She told Dolly everything.
Everything.

“So just to review,” Dolly said an hour and a half later, “you robbed a bank in which you had worked for fifteen years, left town, changed your name, and moved here. You did this because a doctor gave you one year to live, and you thought by moving to Hollywood you would find love and happiness before you died, because Hollywood is the land of dreams. Is that about right?”

“In a nutshell.” Blossom went on to tell Dolly about T. J., MaryAnn, Tom Barzini, and Skip. She opened up like a water tower struck by lightning, and a billion tears came down in one final deluge.

“Does that pretty much bring us up to the most recent Las Vegas debacle?”

Blossom nodded.

“Lord, Blossom, when you tell a story... you tell a story. Well, the first thing we need to do is to get a second opinion.”

“On what?”

“Not your sanity. I know you’re crazy. But your health is another matter altogether. We need to get you to a doctor and get a second opinion on your health.”

“No way, Dolly. My mother had refused treatment, and she was doing okay. She really was. But then when she began doing worse, they talked her into chemo, and that’s when it all fell apart. It’s what killed her; I’m sure of it. I don’t want to go like that. I want to go like this. Intact. The poison that kills the disease is worse than the cancer. No, no doctors, Dolly.”

Dolly regarded Blossom. She looked so healthy, but maybe that was why she had lost all this weight. At least seventy-five pounds. And she looked so good with it off. But maybe it was the disease. Dolly wasn’t finished trying to convince Blossom to get a second opinion; she was just finished for now. She would definitely get her to see a doctor, by hook or by crook; right now, however, she just wanted to get her up and flying right.

“We need a plan, Blossom.”

“A plan?”

“Yes, you’re a mess. You’re a shade paler than milk. Look at you. Somebody call nine-one-one.”

“Are you sure you want to give me this pep talk now?”

“Well,” Dolly said, “you’ve got to sell your Hockney. I have a couple of connections. I know some dealers and some collectors. Hey, we might be able to get you an even better price than what you paid. You never know.”

“That was supposed to be for you when I died.”

“Well, you’re very much alive, and that painting’s worth something.”

“But that was my gift to you,” she said in a sad, low voice.

“Make me a card instead—I’ll be just as happy.”

“Dolly?”

“What?”

“You’re not freaked out that I’m a fugitive from the law?”

“No, not at all. I’m far more ‘freaked out,’ as you say, that you won’t get a second opinion from a good doctor out here.” She paused. “Let’s concentrate, Blossom; what we need is structure.”

“Structure?”

“Yes. You just can’t go lollygagging about every day, looking at Skip with big, sad eyes and doing nothing. In a couple of days, when you’re feeling better, you’ll come with me. I have something in mind.”

“What?”

“Don’t you be worrying about what. You’ll see.”

“Dolly, how is it that... that you always know what to do? I feel so clueless right now. Yet you seem to understand things that... that . . .” She couldn’t finish her thought. Couldn’t quite find the words and connect them to what was going on inside her. Even words were alien at the moment.

“Therapy, Zoloft. And remember, Blossom, I was out of it for two years. I don’t think anyone could have been as sad or lonely as I was during that time. Oh, I’m sure that’s not true, but that’s how it felt. I’m just remembering what it was like, and I’m offering you a couple of shortcuts to help find your way out of it. Unfortunately, there’s no getting around it: People have to work for their happiness. We go into battle every day, and we have to work to be happy. It just isn’t handed over to us, as much as we wish it was. I know. It stinks.”

It was the first time Blossom thought destiny wasn’t just “what happens”; destiny was what you made happen. Ingrid Bergman didn’t have to get on that plane. That was her choice.

“All I’m doing is giving you a couple of tips before you go into battle.”

“But all I wanted to do was leave a legacy before I died; that’s all.”

“Love is a legacy, Blossom. Love is how we stay alive after we die.”

Blossom got up and walked toward Dolly. Her arms were open. She hugged her as if she were the last person on earth. Somehow, Dolly’s words always felt like a salve on her sadness.

“Dolly, why are you so kind? I mean, to me. Why are you...?”

“Well, besides the fact that I love you, honey, you’re like the daughter I never had. Mr. Feingold and I tried and tried, and then we found out we couldn’t have children. That was a sad day. I wanted a little girl more than anything in the world. And because I’m an only child, I didn’t have a shot at even being an aunt. If I had had a daughter...I would be happy if she was just like you.”

“Why? I’m one shade paler than milk.”

“Because you’ve got guts. And I admire that. You’re not content to settle for what scraps life throws you. You want more. You remind me of myself in that way.”

“And did you live happily ever after?”

“Who lives happily ever after all the time? But I was lucky enough to figure out, at some point in all the pain, what was important to take away from it.”

Blossom was still embracing Dolly. She didn’t want to let go. “And all this time I was looking for love, it was right here.”

“It’s much closer than that. You see, Blossom, darling, it’s not in front of you; it’s not in back of you; it’s not sleeping beside you; no, it’s much closer than you ever imagined.”

“Where?” Blossom asked, perplexed.

“It’s right here.” And Dolly touched Blossom’s heart.

Blossom stayed with Dolly for a couple more days and slept through New Year’s. On January first, Dolly opened Blossom’s door quietly and tiptoed in with a cup of coffee.

“Blossom, darling, wake up. I have something really good to tell you.”

Blossom opened one eye and peered up at Dolly. “You do? What?”

“It’s a new year. You can get up and start over again.”

CHAPTER 43

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY
, Blossom awoke in her own apartment. She forced herself up and into the shower. She looked in the mirror and drew her hands over her face. She had never looked so tired.
Who was it who said of Peter O’toole that he was walking around to save on funeral expenses? God, that’s me!

After dressing, she nursed her coffee by the window. There was Skip, cutting the lawn. Suddenly, she saw Jeannie enter the gate. He noticed her come in as well and turned off the mower. Blossom gazed at her like an owl studying a mouse. What was she doing here? She watched Jeannie hand Skip an envelope and stand there talking for several minutes.

How do you do it, Jeannie?

How do I do what?

Stay so happy, never have a bad day?

I don’t know; I just don’t let things get to me.

Have you ever been depressed?

No.

Do you have any idea what that would feel like?

Not really.

What about love, Jeannie?

What about it?

Love just comes your way like that?

Yup.

Ever wonder what it’s all about, Jeannie?

What what’s all about?

Life?

No, not really.

Do you ever think about death, about what kind of impression you want to leave behind in this world?

No.

So you’re just happy, no worries, no questions, no sleepless nights?

Pretty much. Isn’t everyone? Aren’t you?

Me? Hell, life is just a bowl of cherries.

A knock on the door woke her from the conversation she was having with herself.

“Be right there,” she yelled, and pulled herself away from the window. It was Dolly, with Jigsy and Pip.

“Ready?”

“Yeah. Am I dressed okay?”

“Perfect.”

Blossom was wearing a plain beige A-line dress that was too big for her. But it was all she had. Everything else in her closet was even bigger.

“So you still won’t tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope. You’ll see. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

They took Dolly’s car and headed off with the two dogs. Finally, Dolly took a right into the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center parking lot.

“Dolly!” Blossom was surprised and upset.

“What?”

“I told you I didn’t want a second opinion. What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I do every Monday and Thursday. Bringing Jigsy and Pip to therapy.”

“What? You have your dogs in therapy?”

“Jigsy and Pip aren’t just your ordinary, happy-go-lucky everyday dogs, Blossom. They’re certified.”

“They seem okay to me, Dolly. Aren’t you going a little overboard with this therapy thing?”

“Not certifiable, certified. They got certified to be therapy dogs. They go through the hospital, into the different wards, and help the patients. You can’t believe how much joy they bring these people. A lot of these patients haven’t gotten out of here for weeks. Some are in critical care; some will go home; some won’t. When I bring the dogs in, it’s like bringing in a friend with only good news. They light up, young and old alike. The hospital started this program six years ago, but we’ve only been doing it for about eight months.”

“I had to go through therapy training as well with Jigsy and Pip, to make sure we all knew how to act around the patients, the equipment. We’re a team in there.”

“Why did you want me to come?”

“Because I want you to see just how good something like this can make you feel.”

Blossom followed Dolly into the hospital, with Jigsy and Pip in tow. Everyone was happy to see them.

“Blossom, I’d like you to meet Alison and Liz.”

“Nice to meet you, Blossom.” Liz and Alison worked in reception.

“Blossom came to escort us on our rounds today.”

“Oh, okay. Let me get you a pass, Blossom,” Liz said, writing her name on a small paper tag.

Blossom, Dolly, Jigsy, and Pip went up to the children’s floor first. The children were in their individual rooms, sleeping, watching TV, getting checked by roving doctors, sitting with their families. When Jigsy and Pip entered, the mood changed immediately. It was as if a light came on in a dark room. They would go directly over to the kids for licks and pats.

Some of the kids were too weak to sit up, but even they managed a smile when Jigsy and Pip began their rounds. A small girl named Heather occupied the last room on the children’s floor. Dolly and Blossom quietly walked in.

“Hi, Heather. Are you up for a visit from Jigsy and Pip today?”

Heather nodded. She was thin and pale, and the dark rings under her eyes were accentuated by the unfortunate baldness she had to endure.