Chapter Four Sera
Chapter Four
Sera
Though normally I’m a morning person, I sleep until my alarm rings at nine.
I turn it off and spend a few minutes scrolling through Instagram.
Jackson followed me last night, and he’s already liked a couple of my painting posts.
I follow him back and scroll through his profile.
He plays lacrosse, and it looks like he’s going to Harvard.
I’m careful not to like anything, but I watch his stories, which show him already out on a sailboat this morning in a crisp white shirt and expensive-looking sunglasses Abbi would probably be drooling over.
I’ve never been sailing, though I’ve been out on the ocean plenty with Luke and his dad.
A breeze blows my gauzy white curtains into the room.
There’s a layer of fog hiding the tops of the trees, and I hope it clears up before Maddy and I go to the beach later.
I turn back to my phone and hit the like button on a time-lapse video from an artist I met at a Boston gallery earlier this year.
Their work encouraged me to start painting portraits after always preferring landscapes, and I take note that they’re going to be showing some work in P-town this summer.
Suddenly I’m craving pancakes. I pull on a pair of leggings and one of Mom’s old, oversized law school sweatshirts. Barefoot, I creep carefully down my secret staircase to the kitchen, only touching the stairs where they won’t creak too loudly, not sure if anyone is still sleeping.
The kitchen is part of the original house, so the ceiling is a little low, but it’s cozy and familiar. I dig the heavy iron griddle out from under the stove and get it warming. Then I pull the pancake mix from the pantry and check the freezer to see if Mom brought home any blueberries yesterday.
“Score.” I lift the giant bag out, and I’m just ladling the first pancake onto the over-buttered griddle when Mom comes in.
“Morning,” I say as she fusses with the coffeepot and I drop frozen blueberries onto the pancakes until I’m satisfied each one has enough. “Did Dad sleep in too?”
“Of course not. He’s out for a run.” She gets the coffee brewing and comes to peek over my shoulder. “Got enough blueberries?” she jokes as I put another handful in.
“Is there such a thing as too many?” I laugh, and she agrees.
Her phone pings. “Oh, you have a call with Dr. Lee at ten,” she reminds me, watching me peel turkey bacon from the package and lay it in a cold pan the way Maddy taught me.
“Yup, I know. It’s just a check-in.” Now that I’m eighteen, my parents don’t need to be in on my appointments, but they still set calendar reminders.
“And you’re feeling okay?”
“Yup.” She stares at me for a minute like she’s trying to catch me in a lie. “Seriously, Mom, I’m great. Even after all the beer last night,” I joke. She narrows her eyes at me, then huffs, knowing I wouldn’t dare. The coffee finishes running, and I fill her mug.
She pats my hand as thanks and then falls into her morning routine of coffee and the paper. Abbi appears in a matching pajama set as I slide the second batch of pancakes into the oven to stay warm. She grabs a mug and some coffee, and I ask her to pour me one too.
“What time is your appointment with Dr. Lee? And aren’t you supposed to stick to tea?” she asks, holding my Black Dog mug hostage.
“It’s not till ten. And I’m fine and allowed to have a little coffee.
” I grab my mug from her and pour myself half a cup.
Abbi may have gone back to school in the spring, but she occasionally gets like this still, worried over nothing.
I don’t want to see her slip back into a version of herself where my health is at the center of her life. I want us all to just enjoy right now.
“Right, right, sorry,” she says. She starts setting the table while I finish the last batch of pancakes and move the bacon to the drip plate.
Dad comes in next, freshly showered, and peels the pages he wants out of Mom’s hands. I set the pancakes in the middle of the table with a flourish.
“Wow, what service.” Dad forks two onto his plate and waves his mug around until I grab the pot and bring it to the table with me. “Hey, don’t you have an appointment soon?” he asks.
“James.” Mom warns him to back off even though she and Abbi have already done exactly the same thing. I can’t help but laugh. Adjusting to our lives not revolving around my appointment schedule could definitely happen faster for me.
“Yes.” I shovel a warm bite into my mouth and sigh in delight. “Damn, I’m good.”
“Well, you could always go work for the Waterses if camp counseling doesn’t suit you,” Dad says.
“I don’t think Maddy would let me in the kitchen,” I admit.
“Not after that hand pie disaster at the town fair two years ago,” Abbi adds.
“It’s not my fault salt and sugar look exactly the same,” I moan.
Mom laughs and takes another bite. “Well, at least you followed this recipe correctly.”
“I’m going to love teaching,” I say, even though I’ve never done it before. “I won’t need another job.”
“What about you, Abbi? Decided about that offer to coach volleyball?” Dad asks.
“Yeah,” Abbi says, blowing on her black coffee. “It’s too last-minute, I have research for that scholarship paper, and Cam and I have our Maine trip in August, so I said no.”
“All right. Be young. Have no responsibilities. But remember your car payment is on you.”
“Dad, I have plenty saved up from the Globe internship.”
“Okay, okay,” Dad says, backing off.
I hide my smile from Abbi and Mom, unable to help enjoying Abbi getting reprimanded, and keep eating until my plate is wiped clean.
After we’re all done, Dad starts cleaning up, and I take my iPad to the screened-in porch and log in to my online health chart.
As I click on the video link to my appointment with Dr. Lee, I catch a flicker of motion through the bushes between our house and the Tisdales’.
I was always jealous that Luke’s parents weren’t the overprotective type.
My health issues turned my parents into total helicopters.
But Luke has been pretty much perfectly healthy since the surgery.
Plus his mom has his two little brothers to run around after—chaos monsters at six and eight the last time I saw them. My screen chimes as Dr. Lee logs in.
“Hi, Sera.”
“Hi, Dr. Lee. How’s your Monday?”
“Good so far, thank you. How are you?”
Mom slips onto the wicker love seat next to me, and Abbi and Dad come around behind. In my camera view, I can only see Dad’s crossed arms, but Abbi leans down so her curls brush my ear. You’d think we all had heart conditions.
“I’m good too. Feeling great, actually.”
“Any of those side effects coming up?”
“Nope.”
“Any fatigue? Dizziness?”
“None at all.”
“Good, good.” Dr. Lee flips through something on her desk and then looks back up.
“Your scans from last Thursday showed that the procedure we did last October has reduced more of the thickening of the left ventricle muscle, so I’m happy with that improvement.
Your ejection fracture could be better, so I’d like you to get some labs before our check-in next month, to see how you’re managing the meds before we increase them.
The nurse will send location options to your chart so you can find a place that’s convenient.
If those look good, we won’t have to check in again until probably December.
” She pauses and fusses with some papers on her desk.
“And we did get confirmation from UNOS that you’re to remain on the transplant list in tier five unless there’s any worsening of your condition. ”
I nod. It’s what we’d been expecting. The fact that I will eventually need a new heart keeps me on the list, but there are so many more people who need them way sooner, like the people in tiers one through four. I’m happy to wait.
“Oh, and please make sure your watch is always charged, and remember to keep your medical alert ID on it at all times, even when swimming.”
“Thank you, Dr. Lee,” Mom says, leaning into the camera’s view. “Should she watch her diet at all?”
“After six months of stability, if you’re feeling good, then I don’t see the need.
I know there’s plenty of good ice cream and fried seafood down there, so feel free to enjoy, but not too much caffeine or salt.
We want to watch your blood pressure, keep it low, but not too low.
With these results, we won’t need to see you moved up the transplant list for a few years still. ”
One of the things I love about Dr. Lee is that she always talks directly to me, even if I’m not the one who asked the question.
“Thanks, Dr. Lee.” She nods, and offers up a small smile, making sure she hits each of us with it, even Dad’s torso.
“I can’t wait to hear what you get up to at our next check-in. We’ll talk then.”
I log off before Mom or Abbi can jump in and add anything.
“All good?” I ask, waiting for them to object to Dr. Lee’s advice, but they all nod.
Dad pats me on the shoulder and says he’s going golfing, and Abbi says she wants to get some reading and yoga in and disappears up into her room. Mom and I sit for a few minutes, watching the fog lift off the backyard. I tip my head onto her shoulder, enjoying the quiet.
“Do you want to come to the beach with me and Maddy?” I offer, honestly fine if she says yes. It might be nice to spend some time together again that isn’t focused around my doctor’s appointments.
“No, that’s all right. I don’t want to cramp your style, and I’m meeting Paula for lunch anyway. We have the annual blood drive to finish planning, and she’s been through a lot recently. I’ve been a lax friend with all that was going on…here…We haven’t been in touch much.”
“Mrs. Tisdale? What happened?” I sit up and look over at their yard. Luke’s brothers are definitely back there playing, but there’s no sign of him.
“Actually she’s gone back to her maiden name. So, when you see her, it’s just Paula, or Ms. Nyeman.”
I flinch at the unfamiliar name. Even Luke’s nana doesn’t go by Mrs. Nyeman. “Why?”
“Oh, Luke didn’t tell you? Well, they went through a bad divorce last year.
It was messy, hard on the boys too, I think, and poor Paula nearly lost the house.
” Mom was a fancy divorce lawyer before I was born and she dropped to consulting part-time for her old firm.
They’re always begging her to return, but she says she makes plenty of money as is and doing any more would break her soul, so she must be telling the truth about how rough it was.
I’m shocked. The Tisdales always seemed so perfect.
They never argued like my parents do sometimes, and they were always so affectionate toward each other.
I feel a wave of guilt that I didn’t know, and then it hits me—that’s probably why Luke reached out last year, and I was too selfish to realize he needed me.
“Wait, this happened last year? Do Abbi and Dad know?” I feel a twist of anger in my gut alongside my guilt.
Mom fiddles anxiously with her wedding band. “Yes. I’m sorry, honey. With your health issues I didn’t want to put more stress on you. We thought it best to wait until you were more stable. Though I should’ve told you before we came down. I really thought Luke would have mentioned it. He didn’t?”
“No.” Mom knows something’s up with us, but she hasn’t asked, and I don’t want to share.
“Oh, okay. Well, now you know.” Mom sighs. “Hopefully it’ll be a better summer for all of us, hmm?”
I agree, and she leaves me alone on the porch, staring at Luke’s, hoping she’s right. Then my phone pings.
Maddy
hey girl sorry I need a rain check
afternoon waitress is out sick
Sera
Nooo we’re supposed to have QUALITY TIME
Maddy
I know! hang tonight?
Sera
DUH. I’ll pick you up. I’m sorry you have to work!
Maddy
See you at 8pm sharp! Apologies in advance if I smell like the fryer
I toss my phone onto the cushion next to me and groan.
I’m antsy. I want to do something, but without Maddy my instinct is to look for Luke and ask him if he wants to get into trouble.
We used to spend boring days organizing neighborhood capture-the-flag games or helping with odd jobs we’d catch people in the middle of, even if we weren’t very helpful.
The fence at the Waterses’ house is still three different shades of white if you look carefully.
I can’t just skip next door like everything’s fine again, but I also don’t want to sit in the house when it’s clearly going to be a beautiful day.
I bounce myself off the love seat and go pack for the beach.