Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
STELLA
Mom had a good night. I feel comfortable going back to school knowing that she’ll be okay as long as she follows doctor’s orders.
The nurse said she’s responding well to the new medications and that they’ve reduced a lot of the fluids that she’d built up around her heart. Things are looking much better.
“Mom, Bradley will be here soon. I’m going to take off now. You going to be okay?” I ask.
“Stella, can I talk to you before you go?”
I nod and smile at her even though I’m a little leery of what’s about to happen. What if she still thinks Bradley and I should get back together?
Mom looks over at my dad who hasn’t left her side all night. Smiling, she asks, “Jim, can I talk to Stella alone for a second?”
Dad’s been dozing over in the world’s most uncomfortable recliner. “Sure, I’ll go see about some coffee. I’ll take my time,” he says, winking at both of us.
Stepping over to her bed, I grasp one of the railings next to her. “What is it, Mom? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, sweetie. I just wanted to tell you something.” There’s a long pause before she speaks again.
“Yesterday, when I realized there was something seriously wrong with me, I started to panic. Lots of things were running through my head. I suppose it’s normal when one has a near-death experience…
but I kept thinking about you, Stella. Do you know what I thought? ”
“Um, that you hoped that I’d remember to eat my vegetables after you’re gone?” I snort out a little laugh. Awkward. “Sorry, that was morbid. I like to joke when I’m in stressful situations.”
Mom gives me a warm smile. “Oh, I know you do. No, I realized at that moment that I was the world’s shittiest mother.”
“Huh?” I cough.
“Yes, it’s true. I’m sure you know that already.
It struck me that I was going to die and that I wouldn’t be able to tell you that I loved you and that I was sorry for treating you abominably over the years.
You are an extraordinary young woman, Stella.
I’m so proud of all of your accomplishments.
You have blossomed into such a beautiful woman, one who’s smart, funny, loving, and a very talented artist.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my mother?” I tease.
I half expect her to laugh, but she doesn’t.
“I’m serious. I’ve always loved your artwork but was hesitant to encourage that in you.
I had my own ideas about what you should be when you grew up.
But you are grown up. It’s not up to me to make those important choices for you.
Your dad was right about that. I’m just sorry it has taken me so long to figure things out. ”
“Wow. So, are you saying you won’t mind if I change my major?”
“I won’t fight you on it, no. But I wish you’d considered either a double major in business and in art or going for the art history route that your dad mentioned.”
“He told you about that?”
“Yes, he did. He likes the idea. I was hesitant at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the sound of Dr. Stella Matthews,” Mom says, winking.
A Ph.D. would give me that distinction. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”
“Well, Dr. Stella Emerson sounds even better.” She winks again.
“Uh, yeah, well, it’s much too soon to be talking about that.” I laugh nervously.
“I know. I know. Wishful thinking on my part.”
I’m so not ready to tell them that there is trouble in Alex Emerson paradise.
Mom breaks my little moment of silence with “Stella, I promise I’ll work harder on the mother-daughter thing.”
“Me too, Mom. I’ll even tell you when you are acting like old Mom.”
“Hey, I’m not old!”
“I just meant—”
Reaching out, I watch her take my hand in hers. “I know what you meant. Yes, please tell me if I revert back to pre-heart-episode Mom. Okay?”
I nod. I will definitely do that. It’s strange that something so good can come out of something so frightening. Just as we finish our heart-to-heart, Bradley appears in Mom’s room. “Ready to start back, Stella?” he asks.
“Yep. I’m ready. Love you, Mom.”
“I love you more, Stella.”
Oh gosh, I’m going to cry. I reach over and hug Mom.
As I start toward the door, Dad enters. I hug him goodbye and leave the hospital with a big ole smile on my face.
Outside, I can’t help noticing the sun has barely risen.
It’s still early, but Bradley has to get back to his fraternity.
His frat threw a big party last night, and he wants to be sure it’s still standing. I don’t mind. I need to get back.
Bradley drops me off in front of Shepard, and I make my way up to my room.
I take the elevator instead of the stairs because I’m dead on my feet.
Sleeping on a hard hospital sofa isn’t for wimps.
When I enter the suite, it’s silent. Satan’s mistress’s door is closed, thankfully.
I go straight into my room and start to get my things to shower but stop.
Coffee! I need a coffee first, shower second.
I grab my coffee pod and add the water. I’m about to put my cup under the nozzle when the bathroom door opens. I freeze as I watch Alex emerge.
What is he doing here? Wait, what is he doing here at nine in the morning? And why is he shirtless? He’s holding his tee in his hand. His pants are unbuttoned but zipped, and his hair is a complete mess. He looks like shit, actually.
“Alex?” I whisper.
He looks at me with hate in his eyes––with contempt. “Have a nice time at home, did ya?”
“What?”
“No need to answer,” he spews. Then he says, “Whatever,” and walks out, slamming the front door behind him.
My mouth hangs open like a damn fish. I look over at Brooke, who’s now standing in her doorway wearing only a tiny red tank top and a black thong. She looks like the cat who ate the canary.
“Well, it looks like Alex prefers thin women after all.”
With that comment, she turns and walks back into her lair, slamming the door behind her.
In all of the drama, I had forgotten to put my cup under the pod nozzle. Coffee is running everywhere—on the counter, on the floor. But I don't care. I start to cry and run to my room. I throw myself onto my bed and cry so hard I think I’m going to throw up.
There’s vibration under my leg. My phone.
I’m glad it’s here. I’d hate to lose it.
As I pick it up, I see a text from Lily asking me if everything’s okay.
I quickly reply that things are good and let her know Mom is heading home later today.
I’m in no frame of mind to talk about what just happened here, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be.
I see a red number on my message icon and tap it to open and see a bunch from Alex.
There are at least fifteen text messages and it looks like four voice messages.
All of the texts are asking things like “Why aren’t you at the game?
” “Are you okay?” “I’m worried. Please write back a.s.a.p.
” It makes me nervous to listen to his voice messages.
Reading a text is not as personal as hearing his voice. I’ve got to listen though.
The first two messages are frantically asking where I was and if I’m okay.
Another one is asking me to call him back with more of the same questions.
He was so worried—at least he was at first. The messages that came in later in the evening were a different story.
On one, there’s a lot of background noise.
He must’ve been out. He’s just breathing at first, then I hear him say one word: “Why?” And then he hangs up.
The last message from him was left at two thirty in the morning.
It’s obvious he’s drunk. His speech is slurred and angry; I’d go so far as to say he’s downright belligerent.
That’s not typically how he talks to me.
Something’s definitely wrong, and I can’t see it having anything to do with the loss yesterday.
No, this is personal. I know this when he says, “Stella, it’s Alex.
I just wanted to say that I thought you were different, but you’re not.
You’re just like all the rest of the bitches in this world.
Well, good riddance. I don’t ever want to see your fat, err, ugly, round face again.
” I hear a giggle coming from somewhere in the background of his message and then a girl’s voice.
“Come on, baby, let’s go. I can’t wait to get you into my bed. ”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Brooke Clark.
Not gonna lie. Hearing him call me ugly was more than this girl can take. Fat, ugly round face? Really? He had to say the most hurtful thing he could think of at that moment. I caught the first word—fat—even though he tried to change it to ugly. Too late. The damage is done.
The thing I don’t understand is why? What did I do to deserve that? Is this all because I didn’t go to his game? I could clear all of this up right now, but if what he said last night and just now in my dorm, what’s the point? He never wants to see my fat, ugly face again.
I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him so easily.
I should have learned from Bradley that guys don’t like soft, round girl.
Alex may have thought he did, but I guess once he saw the entire package, he was repulsed and wanted to move on to skinnier (and meaner) pastures.
Well, if he wants a woman like my roommate, he can have her.