THIEF: Part 4 (2 page)

“How’s it feel?”

              “A little sore,” I tell the nurse.My back aches like I’ve got the flu; I squirm as she pushes my bed back to the room, but I can’t get comfortable.

              “That’s normal.You might see a little blood in your urine too, but it’ll go away.”

              Pissing blood.Great.

              “Let’s get you back to your room,” she says, “and that handsome boyfriend of yours you got waitin’ for you.”

              She smiles at me, so I force a smile back.
He’s not my boyfriend
, I think about saying, but what I really want to say is,
He might’ve gotten sick of waiting.

              When we get into the room, though, Alex’s face is the first I see, and it’s smiling.The first thing I smell is Aunt Jane’s perfume.

              “Oh, my God, my poor baby!”Her hug just about strangles me.“Alex filled me in—kidney failure, I can’t believe it.You’re so healthy.We should get a second opinion.Where is that quack?”

              I try to dodge her, but it’s hard.Thankfully, the nurse shoos her away so she can hook up my heart monitor and IV tower again.“Relax, Aunt Jane,” I tell her, nodding a thank-you at the nurse as she leaves.“Dr. Brody said it might be kidney failure, or it might be something they can fix.Right now it’s just ‘significantly reduced function.’”My tone sounds as unsure as Dr. Brody’s did earlier, but, unlike me, Aunt Jane doesn’t pick it up.

              “Well, thank God.”She wilts into the nearest vacant chair.“When will we know the results of—”She waves her hand at the door.“—whatever they just did?”

              “Biopsy,” Alex and I correct her, at the same time.We exchange a look: brief, but definitely there.

              “Tomorrow morning,” I add.“They have to hold me here at least twelve hours after the biopsy, anyway.”

              “And then you get to go home?”

              I shrug.“Depends on what the test says, I guess.”

              “You stay at home for dialysis,” Alex says.He’s done chewing on his nails; now, he’s moved on to the inside of his cheek.“I mean, you drive to a hospital for treatment, or a special center, but you don’t have to like…live here.”He pauses.“Unless you get really sick.So even if it is...you know, something bad, they probably won't keep you here.It'll be something you could manage on your own.”

              “No doing.”Jane points a finger at me.“I’m moving in with you till this ordeal’s over, no matter what it is.”

              My eyes widen.“Aunt Jane, really…that isn’t—”

              “I’m five minutes away from her place,” Alex says, interrupting.He glances at me, then looks back at Jane, his smile reassuring.It fools even me, for a second.“I can check on her every day while I’m here.”

              “Well, how long will that be?”

              “At least through the new year.”Alex doesn’t look at me when he says this part.

              “I don’t know,” Jane sighs, dramatic as ever.“I suppose we’ll just have to decide tomorrow, when we get the news.”

             
Thanks
, I mouth to Alex.He winks, that slightly brave side coming through again, and I can’t help but smile.

              “Are you staying in a hotel, Ms. St. James?”

              “Oh, sweetheart, call me Jane.”My aunt flutters her hand at Alex, waving off his formality like a coat of dust.“As for the hotel, I wouldn’t dream of it, not while my little Erin Caitlin’s laid up here all alone.”

              Alex raises his eyebrows at me, a question, and I nod.

              “All right, then,” he says, getting up to stretch, “guess you can have the cot and I’ll take the chair.”

              “Wait a minute,” Aunt Jane says, holding up her hand, “you’re staying the night?”

              Alex spreads his hands and shrugs.

              Jane acts like she’s walked in on something naughty.“Oh, well, my apologies, lovebirds—I didn’t realize you two were already so serious.”

              “It’s not…”I stop myself, locking eyes with Alex.“It’s not something we’re, you know, telling people yet.”I wait for him to look away first.It’s hard to tell, but his expression seems, if not pleased, slightly amused.

              “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”Jane cups my chin in her hands.“I’ll be honest, dear, you look like hell.”

              “Thanks,” I laugh, squirming away as best I can, my back still sore and my fatigue settling back in.“I’ll be fine.Go.You know as well as I do you can’t sleep anywhere but a real bed.”

              “That’s true,” she tells Alex.To me, she gives a forehead kiss and a heartfelt, though dramatic, goodbye and goodnight.Ever the gentleman, Alex walks her to the parking deck.

              I’m feeling extra drowsy from the biopsy sedative, but I make myself sit up and focus on the TV‘tilAlex gets back.

              “You should be sleeping,” he says, not looking at me.

              I watch as he unfolds the guest cot the nurses brought in.When he empties his pockets and undoes his belt, he glances over his shoulder at me.

              “What?” I ask.“It’s not like I haven’t seen you undress.”I look at the clock, the memory of Alex filling me, how solid my orgasm felt with another person there, instead of just my imagination—it was just a few hours ago, but it feels like days.Weeks.

              He drops his pants, takes off his over-shirt, and climbs under the covers of the cot, hands behind his head.We watch the television for a while, quiet.Occasionally, one of my machines beeps, or Alex clears his throat.

              “I’m sorry.”

              He looks at me.“It’s okay, Erin.I told you, I know why you’re defensive.”

              “Not about that.I mean, I am sorry about that, but for something else, too.”I pause, taking a breath.“For…saying I wanted you to leave.”

              “Did you?”

              Suddenly, I can’t remember.“Well, whatever I said, I didn’t mean it.”A piece of tape on my IV line is loose, picking up lint.I toy with it for a minute, then look back at him, his face patient.“About how you aren’t my boyfriend.Or whatever.”

              He turns back to the TV.“You were right, though.I’m not.”

              “Alex, look…”I take another breath.It’s hard to concentrate; I don’t know if it’s from exhaustion, or the weight of my words.“I totally understand if you want this—whatever we are—to just end now.Before things get really crazy.Because if I am in kidney failure, a lot is going to change.And,” I add, forcing a business-like, practical tone into my voice, “that isn’t what you signed on for.”

              Suddenly, Alex bursts out laughing.“Oh, my God, Erin.”

              “What’s so funny?”

              “You.”He sits up, coming back to the chair at my bedside, and holds my hand.“Stuff like this?No one ‘signs on’ for it.Not even when they’ve been together, like, fifty years.”His smile stays, but his tone gets firmer.My hand, so waterlogged and ugly, feels like my own again as he holds it.“It’s like I told you at your house, after…”His voice trails, the familiar blush coming back to his face; we both smile.He continues.“I really like you.Like, really.Like…I could see myself falling for you.”

              My chest tightens, hearing this.It makes me happy, but also guilty; really liking Alex back is one thing.Loving him back, when I still love Silas—at least, some part of me does—isn’t something I’m prepared for.I’m not even sure it’s possible.Can a person love two people at once like that, the same way?The same amount?

              Alex goes on.“I’ll be honest, I have no idea what’s going to happen.Your test results, my traveling…your ex.Us.”He holds up a finger to shush me before I can insist, yet again, that Silas is out of the picture for good, no matter what I may or may not feel for him.“But,” he says, taking my other hand, minding the IV, “I want to stick around and find out.That’s why I chose the life I did—on the one hand, I could have played it safe, like I always had, and gone to grad school.Picked a stable career somewhere—probably joined my dad’s firm, if I’m being honest with myself, much as I hate to admit that.”He leans closer, locking his eyes with mine.“But I chose the other option: not knowing what my next five moves would be.Focusing on each moment as it passed, rolling with whatever came my way, whether they were opportunities or obstacles, because at least that way, I wasn’t pretending I had control of my life.That’s all the other option was—fooling myself into thinking a nice, predictable life was somehow less out of my control.But with this option, I can at least accept I don’t have control.And, in a lot of ways, actually enjoy it.”

              His little speech is meant to inspire me somehow, I’m sure, but I can’t stop focusing on one part: “Which one am I?”

              “What?”

              “An opportunity,” I say, “or an obstacle—which one am I?”

              Alex laughs again, softer this time.Gently, he pushes my hair behind my ear, the same sweet gesture he madeearlier, in my bedroom.

              “Does it really matter?Because in my experience, the best part about obstacles,” he says knowingly, and rises to kiss my forehead, “is that they’re really just opportunities too, in the end.”

              In the morning, Fiona shows up with two McDonald’s bags filled with just about every item on the breakfast menu and a tray of coffee.“I wasn’t sure what everyone liked,” she says, slightly embarrassed, “so I got—”

              “One of everything?” I finish, laughing.

              “Basically, yeah,” she says, and starts laughing too.

              Alex shakes his head before I can reach into one of the bags.“You can’t eat or drink anything until Dr. Brody says so,” he reminds me.“And even then, he'll probably make you stick to a special diet, depending on the test results.”

              I groan, falling back against my pillows.“But I’m starving,” I whine.

              “Sorry,” he shrugs.“Doctor’s orders.”

              Fiona looks unbearably guilty, like she committed murder.“Sorry, Erin—I wasn’t thinking.We won’t eat it in front of you.”

              “No, it’s fine.”I sigh.“Besides, I should get used to it.”

              “Erin,” Alex scolds me, “don’t talk like that.Wait for the test results.”

              I nod, chastened.They set the food and coffee on the wide windowsill, politely refraining, but the air vent just blows the scents around the room, making me even hungrier.

              I don’t tell them what I’m really thinking: that I already know my test results, somehow.While I hope for the best, I’m used to expecting the worst.After all, the worst is usually what happens.

              The one time I didn’t expect it, in fact, was with Silas.Nothing about him was predictable.At first, it was one of the things I loved most—but in the end, that’s what got my heart broken.

              High heels come down the hall like a lawyer, every step purposeful and quick.“Jane’s here,” Fiona and I say at the same time, and burst out laughing.

              “Morning, all,” Jane says as she enters, smiling, but all business.She holds up a bag.“I brought breakfast.”

              Everyone groans, but mine’s the loudest.

              “Knock, knock.Oh, man, it smells good in here.”Dr. Brody grins and nods a hello as he enters, then shakes my hand.“How are you feeling this morning?”

              “Been better.”I sit up, smoothing the blanket on my lap.“So.Test results.”

              “No beating around the bush with you, huh?” he says.I hear a slight nervousness to his voice and raise my eyebrows, showing him I’m serious.He clears his throat, flipping through the file in his hands.As he takes a breath to start, though, he looks around again.“Do you want to hear them…alone?”

              “Nope.”I keep my voice friendly, but firm.“Let’s get it over with.”

              “All right,” he nods.He clears his throat one more time, then glances from his folder to me.“You’ve got a condition known as GoodpastureSyndrome.It’s an autoimmune disorder that tends to present itself around your age—usually in the lungs, first, which is probably why you felt short of breath yesterday.In layman’s terms, your body’s attacking your own collagen supplies, not realizing it needs them, and it’s reducing your kidney function.”He pauses, looking back at his notes.“Your lung function seems back to normal, which is good news; treatment will be a lot easier with only one aspect to focus on.”

              I pose the question I know Alex is bursting to ask: “What
is
the treatment?”

              “Well,” Dr. Brody says, scratching his chin, “first, we’ll get rid of the bad antibodies in your blood by replacing the plasma.Then we’ll lower your immune system with medication, to stem its attack on your collagen.”

              I wait for him to continue, then prompt, “No dialysis?”

              “Your kidneys are damaged,” he says, slowly, “but it’s possible some of the function could return; you’re up 5% from yesterday, and if the trend continues, we might be able to take dialysis off the table.”

              “So the damage can heal.”

              He shakes his head, and I sink back into my pillows a little, unable to hide my disappointment.“Kidney damage is permanent.But some organs do a great job of working around impairments.Since we’ve caught this in the early stages, and because your lungs don’t seem very affected—almost at all, really—your prognosis is great.”

              “Great,” I repeat, my defenses rising.

              Dr. Brody gives me a withering look.“If it were up to me, Erin, you’d be at home—”he motions around the room, “—with your family right now, not sick at all.But that’s not how the real world works, unfortunately.People get sick.And I’m telling you, given your diagnosis, that yes, your outcome for this looks pretty great.Few people get the news this early; a lot of times, it’s too late, and treatment stops aiming for a cure, and simply delays the inevitable.”

              His eye contact, so intense, makes me nervous.I look away.

              Finally, I can tell, Alex can’t hold his questions in any longer.“So let’s say the plasma thing goes well, and the immune suppression; will she be cured?”It strikes me as funny that, as someone who doesn’t mind having so much out of his control, Alex asks a lot of questions.Maybe he’s just one of those people who lessens their fear through knowledge.

              Dr. Brody nods, raising an eyebrow at me as if to say, “Told you so.”

              Suddenly, Aunt Jane steps forward.Her usually boisterous voice is subdued now, almost wispy.“And what if…God forbid, obviously…what if those treatments
didn’t
go well?”

              “Dialysis would be the first step after the initial treatment,” Dr. Brody tells her.He looks back at me.“In some cases, when the damage is really bad and function drops too much, or the kidneys completely fail, a transplant is needed.”

              “Well, maybe…”Aunt Jane flounders, a sight I’m not used to seeing.“Maybe we should try to find a donor now, just in case?”

              “Couldn’t hurt,” Dr. Brody says, shrugging.“A sibling is the best match, followed by a parent.”

              “What about an aunt?”

              “Aunt Jane,” I protest, sitting up.The biopsy ache in my back flares, and I lie back down.“No.I won’t let you.”

              “Relax, Erin,” she says, like I’m a little kid interrupting a grown-up conversation.“It’s just a hypothetical question.”

              I roll my eyes.With Jane, there’s never such a thing as hypotheticals.

              “We could test to see if you’re a match.”Something in Dr. Brody’s voice tells me most of those tests aren’t favorable.“Fortunately, I don’t think it will come to that, in Erin’s case.”His reassurance also tells me, “Don’t get your hopes up on finding any back-ups.”

              Fiona, chewing idly on the mouth of her coffee cup, asks, “What about non-relatives?Could they be a match?”

              Alex nods, seconding her question.

              “You guys.”I try to sit up again, this time pushing through the pain.“
No
.”

              They’re all ignoring me, looking at Dr. Brody and waiting.

              “Uh…well,” he says, turning to face them, “it used to be that donors only came from the immediate gene pool.Parents and siblings are still the best match, but nowadays, yes—even strangers can be compatible, given medical advances.”

              “We aren’t strangers,” Fiona says.

              “Non-immediate relatives,” Dr. Brody corrects himself, smiling.

              Everyone’s quiet for a minute.I hear nurses laughing down the hall, some traffic on the highway through my window.The air vents whoosh on, startling us a little.

              “All right, then,” Dr. Brody says, exhaling, “we’ll get treatment started today.If all goes well, discharge could be in order in just a couple days.Then you'd just come back weekly for treatment, ‘tilit's done.”He looks at me, patting my foot through the blankets.“Consider yourself blessed, Miss St. James.Not everyone is lucky enough to have three willing donors before they even need them.”

              Despite myself, I smile back.

“So it’s chemo.”

              The nurse shifts his jaw, giving me a tired expression.“I said it’s the same drug
used
in chemo.Sometimes.”He finishes installing the bag in my IV.“Smaller dose, shorter timeframe.You might get nauseous; in fact, I’m kind of guaranteeing it—”He says this with a sad smile, but instead of sympathy, I think he’s happy, in a way; my snarky tone is clearly not appreciated.“—but you won’t get the other side effects, like total hair loss or permanent infertility.”

              “Yay.”

              He ignores me, finishing up.“There,” he says, clearly as ready to get out of here as I am.“The drip will finish in a couple hours.”

              “Then I can go home?”

              “Not up to me, sweetheart.”

              I narrow my eyes.“When can I start eating normal foods?”So far, in the two days I’ve been hospitalized, my diet’s consisted of two things: nothing, or low-sodium chicken broth.

              “Again, not up to me.”And with that, he leaves, waving a tiny fuck-you kind of wave en route.

              On cue, from his seat in the corner, Alex reminds me, “Could be worse.”

              I manage a half-smile.“I know.I’m just pouting.”

              “You deserve to.”

              “Yeah?”

              “Well…”He scratches his head.“Maybe not quite so much.”

              We laugh at this.My negativity keeps alternating with defensive, sarcastic humor, and by now every nurse on the floor has grown standoffish with me.It makes me feel a little bratty, but in a way, it also makes me feel better.“I’m not the Pollyanna, Miss Sunshine type,” I tell him.

              “I’ve noticed.”He kisses me, and, not for the first time, I’m insanely happy that he’s here with me.

              “Where’s Jane?”

              He checks his watch.“For the last twenty minutes or so, she’s been outside yelling at some caterer.”

              I nod; this seems about right.“Fiona?”

              “FaceTime with, in her words, ‘her gay ex-boyfriend.’”He shrugs.“Something about his stuff getting the hell out of her apartment, pronto.”

              Again, I nod.Everything and everyone, with the exception of myself, seems right at home in their natural places.Life is going on just outside my door, same as always.

              “So we’re alone,” I say casually.

              Alex looks around, confirming.“Guess so.”

              “Too bad we can’t fool around.”

              Slowly, a smile spreads across his face.“We can’t?”

              I grow serious.“Alex, come on.Look at me.”

              “I am.”

              “No, really.”

              “I am, Erin.You’re as beautiful as ever.”

              My laugh is so forceful, it’s almost a snort.“My hair’s unwashed, I’m still all puffy—”

              “No, you aren’t.”

              “—and I’m hooked up to a chemo drug in a hospital bed.What part of that is beautiful?”

              Alex sits on the edge of my bed, leaning down to kiss me.“The part that’s you,” he says against my mouth.“I don’t care if your hair’s not washed, if you’re puffy—which you aren’t, again, by the way—or if we’re in a hospital bed or your bed.”He pauses.“Although, yes, I’d rather be in yours.”

              “Ditto.”I let him kiss me again, moving my hand towards his pants.