Chapter 22
22
Dexter
Summer nights in New York City buzz like a live wire. It’s like all winter and spring, New Yorkers hibernate, enjoying the warmth indoors in the midst of the biting cold, and when the chill finally thaws, we come out of our shell. When Lucy and I leave my apartment, we step into the still warm city night, blending into the crowded streets. We talk Supernatural theories. I listen to Lucy predict the ending to season eight as we move on to season nine based on her own hypotheses and her general preference for Sam Winchester. We talk about Hawaii, our roles as best man and maid of honor, who Hayden and Natalia’s kids would take after. If they’d get Hayden’s height or Natalia’s deep brown eyes. The exact same ones Lucy has.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks, those brown eyes reflecting dim flickers of lights coming off the light posts and street signs. We’ve taken the subway to cross the bridge to the Upper East Side, and we’re still walking through the streets, dodging people through intersections and moving about at a leisurely pace. Or as leisurely as Lucy’s curiosity will allow.
“It’s a surprise.” I keep my chin held high and can feel Lucy’s inquisitive gaze studying me. “Baring your eyes into my soul isn’t going to get you the answer.”
She shrugs as I turn to face her. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”
I stop walking when we approach a building where a doorman stands outside, his stark white gloves contrasting against his navy uniform and impassive smile. “Fourteen B. I believe Mr. Park called down for us.”
The doorman’s smile deepens as he reaches for the shiny gold handle on the heavy door. “Yes, Mr. Greer. Would you like me to show you to the elevator?”
I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
He nods in response, and I turn to face Lucy looking bewildered and scared. “Okay, if you have a room lined with plastic tarp and torture weapons somewhere in this fancy building, I should warn you, I have pepper spray and a really sharp clicky pen in my purse.”
I laugh and extend my hand in her direction. She eyes it warily before latching on to my arm. The pads of her fingers glide against my skin as her hand slinks into mine, and she smiles at me so adoringly. The apples of her cheeks round, and her eyes curve into little half moons. She sinks to my side with a level of ease I didn’t notice until I realize how much of her guard is finally down. Those slabs of concrete she’s built around her, the ones constructed with the stress of her internship and everything she’s been keeping from her family, start to soften a little, opening up and letting me in.
As we hop in the elevator and it ascends, I feel Lucy’s hand grip me tighter.
“Hayden and I have a friend we went to college with,” I start to explain. “He lives in this building, and sometimes we use the roof access. ”
“Like to seduce a hot date?”
I smirk. “More like parties or to take a breather. Eighteen stories up will take you to a whole ’nother world.”
“And are we meeting this friend up there?”
I shake my head. “He’s in Greece with his wife. Babymoon. But he called the doorman for me.”
“That’s generous of him. What are you doing for him in return?”
I wink in her direction. “You don’t want to know.”
A bright ping announces our arrival to the rooftop, and when the doors slide open, a gust of cool air whooshes into the small space. Lucy’s steps are hesitant, an obvious distinction to my sure ones as I lead the way toward the edge of the rooftop. Metal railings and air that feels about ten degrees cooler than on the ground surround us, and I hear Lucy suck in a breath.
“This is amazing.”
The sounds of the city are muted up here. Even the headlights from the heavy city traffic and street signs lining the sidewalks look dull. It really does feel like we’ve stepped into a portal instead of an elevator to a fancy rooftop.
She turns to smile at me with a mischievous grin slicing through her face. “You’re seriously going to tell me you’ve never brought another woman up here?”
I laugh, ducking my head toward my feet. “Not on a date or anything. More like to accompany me to birthday parties and the Fourth of July.”
“Ah-ha! I knew it,” she exclaims, pointing a finger at me. “The lengths you men go to get lucky. Please tell me you didn’t challenge those poor women to a round of naked drinking games.”
“Why? I thought you liked those games?”
She responds with a deep blush.
“Is that not how you remember it?” I ask, the playful grin on my face baiting for more from her memory. “Because I distinctly remember?—”
“Okay! Yes!” she cuts me off, the redness traveling all the way to the tips of her ears. “I mean, it took a few servings of tequila to get there, but I guess…that’s how things went.”
We stay silent, the breeze blowing Lucy’s hair away from her face like a curtain drawn open to let the sunlight in. With the summer heat feeling like a heavy down comforter instead of just humid air, we’re both dressed in our summer best. A short sleeve shirt and bare arms. A flowy skirt and exposed legs. So when Lucy’s knee brushes against my leg and my knuckles trail her arm from elbow to shoulder, it feels warmer than just a simple touch of skin against skin. It feels more like a syrupy, saccharine warmth that travels all the way down low in my belly.
“So these other women…” she says, avoiding my eyes. “Anyone…special?”
“No.” My voice has gone deep, my eyes matching the somber cadence in the single, two-letter word. “I haven’t really been with anyone since…you know.” I gesture a hand between me and her.
“Since me?” Her voice squeaks, and her eyes round. Her body pulls away from me. Like she’s scared this simple admission has more meaning behind it. And maybe it does.
“I mean, I’ve dated people, I guess, if that’s what you call it. And I’ve fooled around or whatever, but…I haven’t really been with anyone since we…”
She nods like she’s agreeing with me. “Oh…”
It seems every one of our sentences ends in an ellipsis, filling the unsaid words with questions. Ones we don’t know how to ask.
“Lucy, it isn’t on purpose,” I start to explain. “I guess I just really haven’t met anyone I want to spend time with like you.”
“Oh,” she says again in a quiet whisper. Her eyes avoid mine, focusing on the metal railing in front of us instead. I see her jaw set and her lips twist to one side .
Maybe what I said was too personal, a little too intimate, and something that should’ve been reserved for a time after we’ve discussed things. But I wasn’t sure if we were allowed to discuss such things . Until right now, when she slyly asked if there was anyone special in my life, I thought she’d set a pretty clear boundary. Now, that boundary she’d drawn in front of her like a brittle twig dragged across sand is becoming faint and confusing.
“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” I add. “Just know, it wasn’t ‘just sex’ for me.”
Her entire face shifts into a scared and worried pout. “But…”
“Hey,” I say softly into the wind, making my voice drift and sound hesitant. “Forget I said anything. It’s really not a big deal.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and it cuts into the moment, letting the words we’re both holding back stay lodged in our throats. “Hello?”
“Hey.” I hear Charles’s low voice through the phone. He sounds tired and worried, making me worry just the same. “Dex, I had to take Janet to the hospital.”
“What?!” I nearly shout. “Why?”
“She’s had a low-grade fever since yesterday, and it spiked,” he explains. “She called her doctor, and they told us to come in. Just as a precaution.”
“Which hospital?” I ask. I look up to see Lucy start walking back toward the elevator to press the call button.
“New York Presbyterian.”
“Okay. I’ll be right there.” I hang up and turn to face Lucy. “Janet’s at the hospital.”
She nods as if she already knows. “Let’s go.”
I don’t bother to ask if she wants me to walk her home first. She’s already decided she’s coming with me. And even though I don’t want to put a damper on her Friday night, it would make this situation a little less scary with her by my side .
We make quick work to catch a cab, staying silent through most of the ride by avoiding questions like what happened or if Janet’s okay. Instead, we let the small talk from our cabbie and the muffled sounds of New York City traffic fill the quiet.
When we arrive at the emergency room, everything moves in a blur. I talk to people, a security guard and a receptionist, before finally being given a bed number in the ER. When I walk to the small room partitioned by a single curtain, I see Janet lying in a gurney, turned sideways in a half fetal position. The silk scarf she usually wears on her head, varying in different pastel colors, is no longer there, and I can see how much of her hair has been thinning. And with the oversized hospital gown she’s practically swimming in, I can really see how thin she is.
I swallow through the constriction in my throat, forcing down the knot that has taken residence there since Charles called me, and step toward her.
“What happened?” I ask. She turns slowly, looking at me over the curve of her shoulder.
“Probably an infection. Bronchitis or something. We’re still waiting on the doc to see me.”
“You still haven’t been seen yet?”
“They’re pretty busy.”
I huff, running a frustrated and aggressive hand through my hair.
“Hi, Lucy,” Janet says weakly at Lucy hovering by my side. She smiles and blinks heavily in our direction.
Lucy waves her hand with a gentle smile. “Hi, Janet.”
“Here,” Charles calls, standing from his seat. “Have a seat. It shouldn’t be too long. We called Dr. Pham, and she should be here soon.” He pulls an additional chair from the corner of the room. Once Lucy and I have settled into the seats sitting side by side, Charles takes the empty spot at the foot of the gurney, putting him closer to my sister .
The four of us sit in silence. The machines at my sister’s bedside aren’t beeping, and the noise outside is somewhat muffled. We hear the occasional chatter filled with medical jargon passing by from the other side of the curtain, along with the coming and going of footsteps. While the quiet is probably the best for Janet to relax and maybe even squeeze in a small nap before things get chaotic, it’s making the time go by slowly. I can feel the seconds tick and tick while the last five minutes feel like eternity. I start to fidget. My hands rub against the fabric on my thighs, and my knee bounces. I almost groan but stop myself when I see my sister’s eyes fall heavy.
I feel Lucy’s hand wrap around my arm, and I suddenly remember she’s here. She’s here, by my side, watching me slowly and painfully fall apart. She doesn’t know what’s going on, what the conditions of Janet’s illness are that brought her here into the emergency room in the middle of the night. But she’s here.
I finally look at her, and she looks at me. She runs her hand along the inside of my arm, and my hand covers her knee. Her lips press together into a small smile as if to silently say, I’m sorry . Not I’m sorry we’re here , but I’m sorry this is happening . We stay like that, looking at each other and forgetting tonight. Forgetting about our cozy dinner at home and the impromptu visit across the bridge. About Lucy’s doubts and reservations and wishing she could see the future. Even Janet laid up in a small gurney a few feet away from us. And it feels like it’s just us two and I don’t have to carry all of the scary and terrifying and heartbreaking things in my life. Like it’s actually going to be okay.
“Janet Greer?”
All four heads in the room turn to look at the person who just entered. The woman, who isn’t Dr. Pham, closes the curtain behind her and faces Janet with a calm, reassuring smile. “Dr. Pham is on her way,” she explains, her back turned to me and Lucy. “But she asked me to check in on you and get some labs started. ”
From my side, I feel Lucy’s hand grip me harder and her head lower, her eyes averting toward the ground.
“I’m Dr. Marquez,” she goes on. She unravels her stethoscope from her white coat pocket and places the round drum on Janet’s chest. “Any trouble breathing?”
“Um, a little,” Janets answers. “Mostly when I move around a lot.” She takes a deep inhale while Dr. Marquez continues her examination.
“Any pain?”
“When I cough,” Janet answers. “I feel a little sore.”
Dr. Marquez nods. “Dr. Pham mentioned you’ve had this cough for some time now, so the achiness is most likely from overusing those muscles,” she explains. “We’ll start with some Tylenol for now to get the fever down a bit, and respiratory will be here to start a quick breathing treatment. I’m going to send the nurse in to get things going, and then we’ll go from there.”
Janet nods, and Dr. Marquez stands upright to leave. “Just press the call button if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Janet answers faintly.
In the midst of the back and forth between my sister and the doctor, I feel the relief spread through my body. If the doctor doesn’t appear too worried, then my sister should be fine, right?
A slight tug of my shirt brings my attention to Lucy. She peers up at me, wide-eyed and full of panic.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
Right as the words leave my mouth, Dr. Marquez turns on her feet and makes a quick glance at me and Lucy. When she does, she does a double take.
“Lucy?!”