31. The Leading Lady
31
The Leading Lady
ANDREW
Surgery Center: The procedure is complete. We are moving Audrey to the ICU. We will update you when she is awake.
I shifted in the cushy chair in our private waiting room. My parents’ generous support of the hospital came with perks.
“Did you see?” I glanced up at Charles.
He’d stopped his pacing and stared at his phone. “How soon do you think we can get back there and see her?”
“I don’t know.” The talk with the surgeon earlier was a blur after six hours of worry, of glancing at my phone every five minutes to see if Carly had texted (she hadn’t), and of fielding calls from Sam, who was on her way from the airport with Jackson.
From the chair beside me, Natalie’s voice came out as a croak. “They didn’t say how it went. How do you think it went?”
I reread the text. Shit. She was right. The hospital’s fancy app might have been good at updating us without pulling a doctor or nurse off Mother’s care, but it scored low on empathy and nuance. Sam and her brilliant AI skills could probably help them with that.
I was glad to have Charles and Natalie in the waiting room with me, but I wished Carly were here too. After holding Nat’s hand for most of the time Mother was in surgery with only occasional breaks to pat Charles’s shoulder, I needed someone to hold my hand and pat my shoulder. I was glad they relied on me to be the strong, caring one, but I’d used up all my reserves and was ready to collapse. Maybe sob for a minute.
But I’d never do it in front of Charles or Nat.
“Why don’t you take a break, Charles?” I said. “Go for a walk downstairs. They have orchids growing in the atrium.”
“I don’t want to miss my chance to see her.” He strode to the door, turned, and strode back.
“I promise you won’t. I’ll text you.”
His gaze lingered on mine. “I won’t go all the way down to the atrium. I’ll just stretch my legs for a minute. You’ll text me if anything happens?”
“Promise.”
“You mind if I go with you?” Nat unwound her fingers from mine. “I could use a change of scenery.”
“Come on,” Charles said. “We’ll see if we can score some chocolate from a vending machine. What about you, Andrew? Want to come?”
“No, I’ll wait here in case the doctor comes in.”
I watched them go, then I stood and stretched. My hands brushed the ceiling tiles. Private waiting room or not, it was still a hospital, and the smell of disinfectant crawled up my nose, reminding me of the last time Mother had been here, when her skin had looked so gray, and I’d thought I’d lose her.
When we lost Dad, we’d come to the hospital only briefly. The paramedics and then the doctors and nurses had valiantly done their best, but he hadn’t lasted long. Waiting at the hospital was better than that, I reminded myself.
It didn’t help.
I sank to the floor, needing something to ground me. With my back pressed to the wall, I nestled my shoulder against the chair and tucked my knees to my chest. I leaned my chin on my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs. I wasn’t religious, never had been, but I sent a wish into the universe that Mother’s new-and-improved vasculature would enable her to walk out of this hospital in a few days.
The door opened, and I looked up. Carly’s face was like a beam of sunlight breaking through clouds. Until she saw me. “What are you doing on the floor?”
I scrambled to my feet and pulled her into my arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I murmured into her hair.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I am now.” I inhaled, but a strong floral scent filled my nostrils, making me want to gag. “New perfume?”
“No, I—” She pulled away. “I brought these.” She held out a bouquet of spotted pink lilies, which were now bruised from my embrace.
“Mmm. Thanks.” People brought lilies to hospitals all the time. I’d never told her I detested them. “Let’s, um…” As much as I wanted to escape the cloying stench, I couldn’t leave the room in case someone came with an update. “Let’s set them here and sit over there.”
She laid the flowers on the table, and I led her to the chairs where Nat and I had been sitting. She wore flowy black pants and a simple black blouse. It was probably her stylist outfit, but it reminded me of Dad’s funeral. I kept my gaze on her face, which was scrunched with concern.
“How’s Audrey?” she asked.
“She just got out of bypass surgery. We haven’t seen her yet.”
“She’ll be okay. She’s strong.” Carly clasped my hand and held it against my thigh. “So are you.”
A little of her confidence trickled into me. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Helen asked me to go with her in the limousine, and I was so glad I did. You see?—”
“Wait.” She’d been riding in a limousine while I was at the hospital, worried out of my mind? “I called you this afternoon. You couldn’t politely refuse a limousine ride to get back to—” To me, I wanted to say. “To get back home?”
“No, honey.” She lifted her hand to my hair and smoothed it off my brow. “My phone was off. I was working.”
“I needed you.” I caught her gaze and held it. “I needed you with me.”
“I know.”
“Wait.” I stopped her hand in my hair and brought it back to my knee. “If you’d had your phone on or if you’d known then what had happened, would you have still ridden in that limo?”
“I—” She inhaled sharply. “I needed to be there for her. There was an accident?—”
“You had an accident?” I scanned her from her smooth ponytail down to her perfectly polished shoes.
“Not a car accident. A fashion emergency. Helen spilled?—”
“A fashion emergency.” I could barely squeeze the words out between my clenched teeth. “My mother had a heart attack.”
“I understand. But you were here with your family.”
“I needed you.”
She sighed. “I needed to work. You’ll understand that soon, especially now you’re a vice president. You’ll be taking early meetings with the East Coast, working late to talk to people in Asia, and going in on weekends when the work piles up.”
That all sounded terrible. When would I have time to hang out with Oliver, have brunch with my family, or spend time with Carly?
Pain sharper than a surgeon’s scalpel sliced through me. Maybe she didn’t want to spend time with me. Maybe she was only interested in telling people she was dating a bank vice president. Did she care about me, about what I wanted? Or needed?
“What if I don’t want that?” I asked.
“Sorry.” She chuckled. “It goes with the territory.”
“No. What if I don’t want the vice president position? What if I want to keep my old job and report to someone else? What if…what if I want to quit?” If my mother’s health scare taught me anything, it was that our time was limited. I wanted to enjoy the way I spent it.
Her forehead creased. “Where is this coming from? Of course you want that job. Why else would we have gone through that whole fake-dating nonsense?”
“Nonsense? Those were the best six weeks of my life because I spent them with you. I’d sacrifice almost anything to be with you. Don’t you get that?”
She ripped her hands from mine. “Sacrifice?” She stood and strode to the other end of the room. “All I did when I was with Brad was sacrifice. And what did it get me? A broken heart and broken friendships. I had to start over. In my forties. I’m done sacrificing for anyone else. I’m not anyone’s supporting actress anymore. I’m the leading lady in my feature film. But you’re a man. You can’t see that. Everything revolves around you. Well, I’m done with that bullshit.”
“Bullshit?” I stood. “I’m trying to tell you what’s important to me. What I need. I’m opening myself up here.”
Her lip curled. “Because what’s important to you is what’s important to us , right? I can’t be the important one. Not even when I’ve achieved something truly great.”
Somewhere in the back of my brain, a voice cried out to listen to her, but the stink of the lilies and the hospital’s disinfectant crowded it out. My mother could die, and Carly was going to leave me too.
My throat constricted, and even if I’d had words, I couldn’t have gotten them out.
“I’ve been a fool,” she muttered. “I knew this couldn’t work. Goodbye, Andrew. I hope Audrey feels better. I’ll text Charles to check in.”
And like a puff of dark smoke, she left.
Before the door closed, the intercom blared in the hallway, startling me. When it cut off and the door closed, the hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed in my ears and crawled over my skin. I was exposed, alone.
Retreating to the corner, I sank to the floor again. I folded in on myself and buried my face in my hands to block out the smell of death.