Chapter 11 Chicken Reputations
Chapter 11
Chicken Reputations
T here was a buzz of noise when I showed up to the hospital midmorning, and I found Chloe’s room already packed with her friends.
“I want to be clear that I told no one to come,” Chloe said.
“It must be terrible that everyone loves you so much,” I said, deeply regretting that loves as soon as it was out of my mouth.
“Shut up,” she said with a smile. “Sit with me again. You’re like a weighted blanket.”
“That’s not very flattering,” I said, though I did cross the small room and sit down next to her in her bed, despite that we as a couple had made no physical moves in front of anyone so far. The truth was that I was comfortable like that, even if this were something else. Will and I hadn’t dabbled much in PDA; it was hardly a secret that I liked keeping things to myself. Sitting next to someone in bed, of course, wasn’t PDA, but there was a note of intimacy it conveyed, a familiarity with someone else’s body in certain locations.
“CJ, I told Clementine about your hacker past,” Chloe said, leaning into me like it was still last night and we were still alone.
“No, Clementine, you know Chloe,” CJ said, their normally staid tone shot through with what I could tell qualified for them as panic . “It was more minor than it sounds.”
“Hey, be gay and do crime, right?” I said, which made everyone laugh and me feel like I’d just leveled up in my public queerness. Maybe all that mattered was private queerness, that I was queer and knew it. I didn’t need someone else’s OK. Still, approval from this particular group was exactly the kind of thing that made me feel like this really was my world too.
I was also operating on practically zero sleep, and I knew that in this state I felt big emotions at extremely small things. Maybe saying memes out loud wasn’t actually a big cultural step forward.
“How’s Fernando?” Chloe asked me. “And Small Jesse Pinkman?”
“Wait,” Ari said. “Who’s Small Jesse Pinkman?”
“My kitten,” I said. “A long story.”
“Weird foster name?” Ari asked.
I shrugged. “I guess it wasn’t that long.”
“It took us so long to find our dog,” Nina said. “Months! We saw a lot of weird names in that time.”
“And then you named your dog Cristina,” Bianca said, “as if that’s normal.”
“Excuse me, show some respect,” Nina said. “She is Doctor Cristina Yang.”
“I love that they both have TV names,” I said. “So she came with that name too?”
“I want to lie and tell you that she came with that name,” Nina said. “But I just really love Grey’s Anatomy .”
“You should have heard her walking in here,” Ari said, beaming at Nina. “She thinks watching that show for twenty years has given her medical insight.”
“Oh come on, you know it must at least a little . I know exactly what a lap chole is,” Nina said.
“Do you think medical board exams are just the lingo?” Bianca asked her.
“Pretty sure that’s most of it,” Nina said, and we were all laughing again as a nurse walked into the room.
“I’m going to have to ask you all to clear out so we can take Ms. Lee to prep for surgery,” she told us. “I can point you to the waiting room.”
Chloe cheerfully bid everyone a goodbye, like it was the end of a party, but when I made a move to stand up, she grabbed my hand.
“You didn’t tell me how Fernando is.”
“Sorry, your friends are distracting.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He’s fine,” I said, which was true, though I didn’t want to mention the sharp barks at any unknown-to-him sound he heard, from the moment we walked in from the parking lot to—well, I heard him as I walked to my car to head to the hospital just now. “I think he’s worried I murdered you or something; he keeps giving me these suspicious looks, and he won’t touch his food as if I’ve poisoned it. He did steal Small Jesse’s breakfast, though, so he won’t starve. And Small Jesse Pinkman keeps staring at Fernando with the widest eyes like he’s the most incredible creature he’s ever seen. This morning at around five a.m. they ran loops from my bedroom down the hallway to the kitchen and back, and it seemed like they were both having fun.”
“If anything happens to me—”
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” I said quickly. “I did a bunch of googling, and this is such minor surgery. No one needs a gallbladder, definitely not you.”
“If anything happens to me,” she repeated in a firmer voice, “will you make sure he’s taken care of?”
“You’re going to be fine,” I told her. “So is Fernando. I promise.”
“Don’t tell my friends I’m freaked out,” she said. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Feelings are the worst,” I said. “I’ll never tell.”
She pressed a kiss onto my cheek, as the nurse walked back in, and I realized I was still holding my hand to the spot when I joined Chloe’s friends in the waiting room.
“You OK?” Phoebe asked me, as I dropped into the open seat across from her.
“Of course,” I said, and then worried that sounded too casual for the situation. “I think I’m just the normal level of concerned.”
Oh, god, as if calling out your emotions as normal had ever convinced anyone.
“You can take off as much work as you need to,” Phoebe said. “Let me know if there’s anything you need me to take off your plate in the meantime.”
“No, I’m—” I caught myself because I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t having a particular busy week at work. Especially when I was asking for a bigger department. “I can manage.”
“You don’t have to manage,” Phoebe said. “If Bianca or Olivia were in the hospital—”
“Well, it’s not the same,” I said, right as Bianca’s gaze snapped over to us. “And hopefully she can come home today.”
“I would have been a wreck from day one,” Phoebe said, and Bianca grinned at her like she was the only person in the entire waiting room.
“I’m OK,” I said, perhaps unwisely, as I felt Bianca study me again. Maybe she hadn’t stopped. “I spent at least half of the night googling. Even WebMD couldn’t scare me much. She’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
What did scare me, I realized, was the scenario I hadn’t planned for today, which was spending already-stressful hours surrounded by Chloe’s friends but without Chloe. Not that I could let any of them know that. So I focused on staying current on my email and responding to some messages from Greg and Marisol about Mom and Dad’s party. I could feel that I had been too—well, not busy , but preoccupied to actually pull my fair share in planning, but I vowed to get my ass in gear. It had been so recently that I’d managed a job and a relationship and family responsibilities on top of that.
Ari and Nina took a walk to get us all drinks from Starbucks, and then Bianca, who worked in event photography, called in a favor to a restaurant her team had worked with recently and got a bag of salads and sandwiches dropped off. I hadn’t eaten anything all day, but it was like the mood kept my hunger and me at an unknowable distance from one another. Plus I could feel how the group was sort of interacting around me; they were used to being a unit with Chloe and without me. It would have been a terrible time to let go of our whole scheme, but obviously had either of us foreseen a medical emergency, we would never have gone down this path to begin with.
Sofia sat down next to me and unwrapped a chicken sandwich. “Split this with me? CJ says chicken’s overrated.”
“I didn’t realize chicken had a reputation,” I said, and then CJ sat on my other side and explained their exhaustion with the chicken sandwich craze from a few years back. So far, of Chloe’s friends, I’d interacted the least with CJ and Sofia, but I could still feel how they were both making an effort to take care of me, even if Chloe had been in their lives far longer than mine. It was the nicest that a dig at a food trend had ever sounded, and somehow all of us were still caught up in this conversation a bit later (for the record, Sofia and I still thought the Popeyes chicken sandwich was close to perfection) when a doctor approached our group. My heart sped up, but the doctor’s expression was on the positive side of neutral and I was more than pretty certain you didn’t give bad news with a face like that.
“Chloe Lee’s family?” she asked, and I opened my mouth to say friends but noticed everyone else was nodding. “The surgery went well, and she’s in the post-op bay right now. As soon as we take her up to recovery, probably in the next hour, we’ll let you know and one of you can join her.”
We thanked her and I could tell, despite that maybe we hadn’t been worried worried, any tension we’d still held fell away. I ate two more sandwich halves and decided I could stop refreshing my inbox for a little while.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” Phoebe said, and I realized she was talking to me. “Chloe’s been alone for so long.”
Everyone else nodded emphatically in my direction. Well, everyone but Bianca, whose nod was a bit more perfunctory.
“It’s weird to think of her as alone,” I said. “She has all of you.”
Phoebe opened her mouth to respond, but then a staff member popped up to let us know that Chloe’s one visitor was allowed to join her. And even though I’d known her the least amount of time, it was obviously decided I’d be the one to go. It hit me how quickly people slotted friendship into a lower category, as if these six people who’d given up their days to support their friend couldn’t possibly compare to the woman who’d shown up only weeks ago and—
Well, I was sure I would feel differently if Chloe and I were actually together.
In the recovery area, Chloe was sitting up on a hospital bed and hardly looking like a person who’d just lost an organ.
“You look great,” I said. “I mean normal.”
“Thanks a lot, Clementine,” she said with a snort. “Sorry I was so loopy earlier. I think the good stuff’s all cycled out of my system.”
“I feel guilty for being here,” I told her. “Your friends know you better and—”
“I think I get to feel guiltier in this scenario,” she said. “I just needed a date to a wedding and now you’re taking care of my dog and my medical emergencies. Maybe we should …”
“No, I don’t mind,” I said, feeling a wave of panic despite that of course it would be easier without this. Wouldn’t it? I hurried to make it make sense. “It would look bad if we broke up now. And there’s no way I can handle Greg at the party without you.”
“I feel like an idiot,” she said. “You were right, this shit does go sideways.”
“It’s not sideways,” I said. “I’m glad I could help. I know I’m not actually your partner or even your girlfriend but I hope we’re at least—”
“Maybe we should just stick to the requirements,” Chloe said. “Brunch so no one’s suspicious, the wedding trip and everything involved with that, and your parents’ party. If there’s another emergency—”
“It’ll look terrible if there’s another emergency and I’m not there,” I said, instead of dwelling on the fact that maybe Chloe didn’t even see me as a friend.
“Fine,” she said. “You can have all the other emergencies too.”
I only had to argue a little with Chloe to let me bring her back to my condo once she was released—not due to anything I’d done, I knew, purely because Fernando was there.
He practically flew through the apartment when we walked in, and I felt weirdly like an intruder standing there for their reunion, so I headed to my office to catch up on work emails and, since I had this rare late afternoon at home, think about getting some crafting done as well. Small Jesse Pinkman joined me, and batted at my iMac’s screen while I answered emails, and then pounced all over my carefully stacked felt pieces as I cut out crabs, scales, and twin cats. I kept the designer-grade catnip sealed up until I was ready to sew the pieces together, but his activated whiskers and wide eyes made me pretty certain that this whole area of my condo was basically a drug den for kitties. It had been easier, so much easier, making cat toys before I had my own cat, though it was much more fun now.
After I was caught up on my inventory—and Small Jesse Pinkman was sufficiently high—I scooped him up and headed out to the living room. Chloe was asleep on my sofa with Fernando curled at her feet, and I restrained from saying awwwww audibly.
Chloe stirred and glanced up at me. “I should call a Lyft.”
“You can stay here tonight,” I said. “Shouldn’t someone keep an eye on you? And take out Fernando?”
She sat up and gently rested her hand on Fernando to wake him. He leapt up and barked several times while racing laps around the living room and kitchen. “You’ve done more than enough.”
“Are you mad at me? Did I fuck something up?”
“Do I seem mad?” she asked in a sharp tone.
“I mean, kind of?”
“I’m mad at myself for thinking this would be easy,” she said. “Normally my instincts are a lot better than this.”
“Are you sure about that? Bear in mind you told me last night about the arm you broke impressing a girl.”
The corners of her lips tugged upward. “ Attempting to impress a girl, get the story right. Anyway, sorry, no, everything’s just coming out shitty. You’ve done more than any fake girlfriend should have to do in the history of fake girlfriends. Until the official wedding shit kicks in, I won’t drag you into anything else.”
“You had an emergency,” I said. “I didn’t feel dragged.”
“You know what I mean,” she said, and the thing was, I did know what she meant. Chloe didn’t want me around anymore. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.
“I promise I’ll be fine at home,” she said. “I just want my own bed.”
Considering I’d been there when she’d gotten her incredibly simple aftercare instructions, I knew that I couldn’t actually argue with her on that front. And, of course, why would I push for her to stay when all she wanted was to leave? So I said goodbye to Small Jesse Pinkman and drove Chloe and Fernando home.
“Promise me something,” Chloe said, unbuckling her seat belt as I pulled up to her apartment building. “Like swear on your life, Clementine.”
“I want to hear what the promise is before I—”
Chloe leaned over the console and pulled me into a tight hug. Her chin tucked over my shoulder, and her breath was hot on my neck.
“Thank you for everything,” she whispered into my ear. “And if you tell anyone how fucking soft I am, I will absolutely murder you and raise your cat as my own.”