6. Harry
6
HARRY
She doesn’t keep her promise. She thinks that I don’t remember my spontaneous proposal, that I was high on whatever drugs they’re pumping into my veins. But I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.
I am going to marry Ruby Jackson.
Whether Alessandro beat me to it and proposed to her on their date or not. It wouldn’t be the first time he was one step ahead of me in something that was important to me.
There was the little matter of the front row tickets to the most important Knicks game of 1980. Ronnie was giving them away since he couldn’t make it. He’d already promised me that my name was on them, until Alessandro told him that his brother was sick, and the Knicks game would cheer him up. He took those tickets and didn’t even use them.
She looks so cozy with her legs curled under her on the plastic seat that I’m almost grateful to be here so that I can have her all to myself for a short while.
She stretches like a cat, and I wonder if she has any idea how graceful and sexy she is, all at the same time. “How long have you been awake?” I can tell when her cheeks grow even rosier than they already are that she’s waiting for me to mention the proposal.
“Not long. Do you have to get home?” Please say no, I think. I shouldn’t have asked. Now, I’ve given her the perfect excuse to get up, grab her coat, and walk straight out of my life.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Fuck no, that’s the last thing I want. “No, but I’m not exactly great company.”
She gets up and comes and sits on the side of the bed, so close that I can feel her warmth through the covers. “Tell me about your mom.”
I tell her about how I never once heard my mom raise her voice. She worked with vulnerable people, helping them integrate and cope with real life, as well as raising two kids practically single handedly. My mom always said there were two sides to every story and that no one else had the right to claim they knew both of them.
“You must miss her.” Ruby’s green eyes study mine intently. I can’t imagine how bad I look, but she doesn’t flinch or turn away or stare at the bandage around my head.
“Every day of my life.”
“Do you want me to let your dad know that you’re here?”
“No,” I say a little too quickly. “I don’t want to worry him.”
“He will have seen it on the news.” She freezes, chewing on her bottom lip as if it might take the words back.
“I made the news?”
“Two eligible bachelors involved in a car wreck.” She keeps her tone light-hearted. Doesn’t mention Alessandro.
I try to see what’s going on inside her head, but I already know. My friend didn’t make it. My heart starts racing, the tears hot and stinging.
“You never told me you were—” Her expression crumples as the monitor starts beeping erratically. “Harry?” She’s on her feet. “Harry, what’s wrong? Do I need to fetch the nurse?”
She doesn’t wait around. I hear the door shush open softly, hear Ruby calling out, “Nurse, we need help in here!” Footsteps and voices, and then everything goes black.
“Can you at least give me some warning before you do that again?”
I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but Ruby is still here when I regain consciousness. My head feels like it has been cleaved in two, and my entire body is trembling. I don’t ask what happened, and Ruby doesn’t tell me.
“Sorry.” It comes out as a rasp.
She holds the cup of water to my lips and waits for me to swallow before putting it back on the bedside cabinet. “Do you always apologize for things that are not your fault?”
“Bad habit, I know.”
“My dad did that when he first got sick. He would follow me around the room with his eyes and keep saying ‘sorry’ for needing my help. Like I should be off doing other things, you know.”
I do know, but I want to listen to Ruby talking about what makes her happy so that I can forget I’m lying in a hospital bed and my best friend is dead.
“What would you be doing right now? If you weren’t here trying to make me feel better.”
She gives me a mischievous grin, and I can’t help thinking that I want to spend the rest of my life making her smile this way.
“Firstly, I need to make it quite clear that I can’t take any credit for keeping you alive. And secondly…” She hesitates. “I’d be watching the news report for updates on your ‘critical but stable’ condition.”
“Thank God it’s not unstable.”
I try to prop myself up, and she rushes over, sliding an arm behind my shoulders and plumping the pillows with her free hand. I breathe in the honey smell of her shampoo and settle back again, praying that I never forget that scent.
“You’ll be back out there doing whatever it is eligible bachelors do in no time.” Her eyes meet mine and then she looks away. “Do you dance, Harry?”
“Badly. My feet never quite seem to do what my brain is telling them to do. I’ll never be John Travolta.”
“Goddammit!” Ruby grins at me. “I thought I could see you in a white three-piece.”
She tugs her hands inside the sleeves of her sweater as if she’s cold and checks out the window. The sky behind the glass is black. The nighttime hush has settled over the hospital, and the lights have been dimmed, but even so, the world still feels as if it has been packed out with cotton wool.
“My dad trained in ballroom dancing when he was younger,” she says. “He used to compete professionally until he went to college, then I guess, other things took over. It makes me sad that I’ll never get to see him dance.”
“Did he teach you before… Before his stroke?”
She nods her head. “He would always waltz around the kitchen with me when his favorite tunes came on the radio. He made it look so easy. So effortless.”
“Does your mom dance?”
Her mouth twists to one side, and she sucks in a deep breath. “Not in the house.”
I guess she must feel bad about dancing in front of Ruby’s dad when it was such a huge part of his early life, but before I can say anything, the door opens, and the nurse comes in to record my vital signs.
“You’re still here,” she says to Ruby while taking my temperature and checking my pulse. “I thought you’d gone home while you still could.” Pause. “You haven’t looked out the window in a while, huh?”
Ruby gets up, crosses the room and peers outside, her hands cupped around her face.
“I’ll fetch you a couple of blankets,” the nurse says. “They’ve closed the roads in and out of the city. I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere in a hurry.”
“Do you need to call your mom?” I ask her. “Let her know that you’re okay?”
She nods. “I’ll go call her now.” She sounds as if there’s nothing she would rather do less, but I guess I’m imagining it.
Ruby opens the door, and Ronnie bounds in bringing with him a sprinkling of snow as he removes his hat and shakes his head. “It’s Baltic out there.” His gaze flits between me and Ruby, and he says, “Fuck, man, look at the state of you.”
“Great to see you, too.”
I’m glad he’s here, even if it does mean that I have to share Ruby with him. Ronnie is a reminder that the world still exists outside this hospital room, even if it will never be the same again. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of one of the visitor chairs.
“I’ll leave you to it.” The nurse completes the chart at the foot of the bed and leaves, warning Ronnie that I still need rest and no excitement.
“How did you get here?” I ask him when we’re alone.
“Sled.” His expression is deadpan, and then his face breaks into a grin. “Seriously, man, how are you feeling? I’d have come sooner, but…” He puffs up his cheeks and wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater.
“Ask me again when I get out of here.”
“Have they said how long you’ll have to stay?”
“I haven’t asked.”
I don’t want to talk about me. I don’t want to tell him that every single bone in my body feels as if it has been broken in two and glued back together again, and that my head feels like a bowling ball. I want to talk about Ruby because this might be the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but it has bizarrely thrown us together. Which also makes it the best thing that has ever happened to me.
As if reading my mind, he glances at the door. “Who was that woman I passed in the doorway? She looks familiar.”
“Her name is Ruby Jackson. She’s the woman I’m going to marry.”
Ronnie is silent for a moment and then he starts chuckling. “Okay. What drugs have they been giving you? For a moment there, it sounded like you said you’re going to marry her.”
“I am. I’ve already proposed.”
“And?”
“And… She said the same as you. She thinks I’ve already forgotten about it.”
Ronnie sits heavily in the chair and rests his elbows on his knees. “That’s not quite the conversation I expected to have when I came in.”
“She’ll be back soon. I want you to help me show her that I’m serious.”
He studies me for several moments, trying to work out if I’m high or delirious or both. “Ask her again. Keep asking her until she says yes.”
“I don’t want to … bully her into accepting.”
Ronnie rubs his chin with his hand. “You’re actually serious about this.” I nod, and he adds, “I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice on marriage proposals. I still haven’t plucked up the courage to ask Sumaira.”
“But you will.”
Frown lines crease his forehead. “How long have you two known each other?”
“Two days. Maybe more, depending on how long I’ve been in here.” I swallow, my throat feeling like sandpaper. “We met at the skating rink on Friday.”
Ronnie blinks. “She was at the party with—” He freezes, the color draining from his face. “Why don’t you give yourself time to heal, see how you feel when this is over and you’re back in New York.”
“It won’t change my mind.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure.”
Ronnie grins at me. “This will be a story to tell the grandkids in years to come.”
“Now she just needs to say yes.”