Two months later
Thwack!...Thwack!...Thwack!
Neil slouched in his office chair, bouncing a tennis ball off the wall he shared with Rob's office, and catching it with a baseball glove.
Rob opened Neil's door. Neil tossed the ball to Rob. It hit him squarely in the forehead and bounced on the floor.
Rob narrowed his eyes at Neil.
"You were supposed to catch that," said Neil.
"Have you finished that report?"
"Already sent it to Admin."
"Then what're you doing?"
Neil swiveled in his chair. "Taking my mandatory fifteen-minute break. What else?"
"Neil, it's..." Rob checked his watch. "4:30. If you've finished all your work, then just go home."
He turned to leave.
"Hey, I'm throwin' a little shindig at my place this Friday night. Should be pretty fun," said Neil.
"Oh yeah? What's the occasion?"
"It's my birthday!"
Rob rolled his eyes and turned to go. "Neil, your birthday's not for another three months. Go home."
Rob shut the door behind him.
"I never said you were invited!" called Neil. "But you know! No one's stopping you from going! Go or don't go - whatever!"
No response. Neil stood up and stretched. Life sure has been good these past couple months. He's kept himself busy both at work and at home. Without his former partner around to hog his personal time, he's been able to gain enough experience in his favorite MMORPG to obtain a rare magic spell. He wrote a fan fiction, a TV pilot for a sci-fi series, and a poem in the language he made up.
And now he had this party to look forward to! Yes, life sure has been great. Neil made sure of it.
He decided to take Rob's advice and head home. Time to shop for some board games and booze for the party!
Friday night came. Neil's small townhouse was packed with people; about a third of whom were complete strangers. There was loud music, a strobe light, a bounce house. There was even a pony out on the lawn. The neighbors' kids loved it; the parents didn't.
And there was drinking. Lots of it. Neil didn't know what he was putting in his cup half the time. He sat on the couch with some hot chick draped over his shoulders, his glasses askew. Not like he'd be able to see with his glasses; he was pretty far gone.
Eddie, the new summer intern, approached him. He had just started a week ago, and Neil already hated him.
"Good evening, ma'am," Eddie greeted the hot chick. "Hey Neil."
Neil stared blearily at Eddie.
"Nice party. This booze tastes good. Goes down smooth," said Eddie, nodding and smiling, clearly desperate to fit in.
"Hey, put that down," said Neil, pointing at the beer in Eddie's hand. "You're like what, twelve?"
"I'll be eighteen in August. So...I'm more or less an adult. Hashtag 'adulting', am I right? Hashtag 'life'. Hashtag 'adult life'. Hashtag 'adulting for life'. Eh? Eh?" Eddie gave Neil the old double finger guns and a wink.
Neil buried his face in his hands. "God, why? Why...are you so...freaking...weird?!"
Eddie forced a laugh. "No biggie. I can change the topic. So, uh...What's the party for?"
Neil stuck a dollar in Eddie's suspenders.
"Dance, monkey."
Eddie stood there perplexed. "Uhh, what?"
"I said DANCE!"
"O-okay!"
Eddie broke into some form of the funky chicken - if that chicken had a broken hip and several ghosts vying for control over its appendages. The crowd laughed and cheered, which only encouraged Eddie to dance harder.
Roxie came over.
"Hey Neil. I didn't know you hired a stripper," she gestured to Eddie with her beer. "Oh, I was referring to our coworker, Eddie - not you," she responded to the hot chick's glare. "You look beautiful, by the way. Where'd you get that blouse?"
The hot chick rolled her eyes.
"So, Neil," Roxie recovered. "I just texted Eva and asked if she was coming and...she told me she wasn't invited...Have you talked to her lately?"
Neil fumbled around in his wallet again. He unknowingly stuck his driver's license in Roxie's updo.
"Dance," he ordered.
Roxie fished out the driver's license and handed it back to Neil.
"Is everything all right, Neil?"
"Where's the pony? I bet the pony dances," said Neil, pushing the hot chick off of him and getting unsteadily to his feet.
Roxie eyed him suspiciously. "Wait. Is...Is this what I think it is?"
Neil staggered through the dancing crowd towards the door. Roxie followed him.
"Oh my goodness, it IS! Holy crap..." Roxie gawked at Neil, who refused to make eye contact.
"I dunno whatchu talkin' 'bout," slurred Neil. "You dunno whatchu talkin' bout. Nobody knows whatchu talkin' bout. Not even Willis. Hey, Willis,"
Willis McMillan raised his glass to Neil from the dance floor. His wife, Taima, giggled with tipsy giddiness.
"I hope I don't get all old and decrepit when I'm they're age," said Neil. He opened his front door.
"This is all about Eva, isn't it?" pressed Roxie, like a lawyer cross-examining a lying witness.
Neil stopped. Roxie stopped just behind him. She gasped.
"Dr. Neil Watts. You invited us all here for a literal pity party, didn't you?"
Neil didn't say anything. Roxie let out a laugh.
"Wow, this is...This is both cute and excruciatingly pathetic. You know, you're such a hard guy to figure out a lot of the time, but sometimes, Neil, you're just a big ol' cliche that wants a hug."
Roxie shook her head in disbelief. "But hey, it's none of my business, right? If it makes you feel any better, I didn't come here to sulk with you; I came here for that soft-serve machine you rented. Did you know that if you pull down the middle lever, it combines the vanilla and chocolate? Madness!"
She walked away, giggling to herself.
Neil collected himself. He straightened his tie and his glasses. Roxie can keep her pity; save it for someone who's actually miserable. He was Neil Watts. Leaving people and emotional baggage behind was his bread and butter for getting through life - it's what made him such a good fit for this job. He felt vindication and alcohol coursing through his bloodstream as he remembered how good he was at ditching deadweight people in his life and flying free. If he could cut ties with his own father, he could certainly leave his former partner in the dust without a backwards glance.
This is easy, he thought as he rejoined the party. He'll forget about her in no time. In fact, he was forgetting her with every shot of whiskey, every beat of the music, and every dumb joke he cracked. And oh, it was bliss to forget.
But the party eventually ended.
After sleeping through most of the weekend, Neil felt wide awake sitting in his idled car Monday evening - jittery even. He should really cut back on the energy drinks.
Neil smelled Alistair's stench before he heard him. Neil pulled on a gas mask and rolled down his window, just as the passenger door opened.
"Very funny, Neil," Alistair croaked, humorlessly. He hauled himself into the passenger's seat with a grunt.
"Who's joking? I'm being dead serious right now," came Neil's muffled voice. "It smells like burnt rubber and gasoline in this mask, and it's still a world of improvement."
"Dead serious? Was that a pun about our job?"
There was no way in hell that Neil would dignify that with a response.
Neil started the car and peeled out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for a while.
"Did you look over the patient files?" said Neil.
"Horace Greenlove. He's in hospice care at Graceful Springs."
"Mm," responded Neil.
Another silence.
"You know, I used to visit Graceful Springs Hospice every weekend," said Alistair, "Beautiful place. Great staff. Therapy dog Thursdays. They've got the works."
Neil didn't say anything. It wasn't like Alistair to engage in small talk.
"I'd visit Thomas every weekend. He was my partner years ago; we started at Sigmund at around the same time. Thomas Charleston was his name. You'd've liked him, Neil. Same sharp tongue and a whiplash wit.
"...I was there when he passed on. He didn't need Sigmund's services; he had lived his life well. He left with a smile."
Alistair sniffed.
"It's impossible to describe what a goodbye feels like - especially saying goodbye to a dear friend. It's like trying to describe what a B flat sounds like to someone who's never heard it. Millions of words in hundreds of languages can only convey so much, but a single experience says everything.
"...I don't wish you any suffering, Neil. But I do hope that when the time comes when you must part ways with someone dear to you, you'll have the courage to say goodbye to them properly. And I hope you'll allow yourself to feel...that feeling that's impossible to describe when you do say goodbye. You'll be glad you did."
Neil kept his eyes straight ahead. The last thing he wanted was to see Alistair getting choked up; Neil was never comfortable around tears.
"Alright there, Dumbledore," muttered Neil. Alistair actually chuckled softly. He's not that bad of a dude sometimes, thought Neil.
The truth was Neil actually did know how goodbyes felt. He just couldn't say he was any better off for having felt them. Quite the opposite, actually.
Neil took a deep breath.
"Well, I think this is our street here. That was quick. These geezers sure die at convenient locations for us."
Neil turned into a tree-lined driveway that wound up a gentle slope to a gorgeous facility surrounded by trees and open park land.
Neil might be an asshole, but he had the sense not to walk into a hospice wearing a gas mask. Although, he did enjoy the mental picture.
He let Alistair go in ahead, while Neil lugged the equipment far behind - out of nose-shot from Alistair's stench.
The receptionist pointed Neil down a hallway to their client's room. He looked through the windows at the various patient rooms, checking the whiteboards on the doors to see if their client's name, Horace Greenlove, was written on any of them.
He passed by a particular window. He stopped. He set down his equipment. And stared transfixed through the window.
It wasn't his client. It was an old man by the name of Hector Riveira, according to the whiteboard on his door. He didn't know this old man, but he knew the person sitting at the bedside like he knew his own home.
He opened the door, and merely stood in the threshold.
Eva stood up from her chair, astonished.
"Neil?"
They gaped at each other in mutual surprise.
"Neil, what're you doing here?" said Eva.
Neil slowly approached her.
This is it, thought Neil. This is your chance to rip into her for ditching you without so much as a goodbye. This is where you can stop pretending you're fine and get fucking pissed. And you have every right to be pissed. You trusted her above your better judgement. You talked to the police for her. You sat at her fucking bedside while she was unconscious. And how did Eva thank you? The same way anyone you ever gave a damn about thanked you. She failed you. She betrayed you. She abandoned you. This is it. This is your chance.
"I do hope that when the time comes when you must part ways with someone dear to you, you'll have the courage to say goodbye to them properly."
Neil got right up to Eva's face.
"Come back," said Neil. "Please come back."
Eva blinked in surprise.
Something cracked inside of Neil. Underneath the seething anger inside him, a different, stronger, more terrifying emotion peeked through. This wasn't the bittersweet "goodbye" feeling Alistair described, nor was it the feeling of freedom he had experienced with his previous fallouts. This feeling was impossible to describe, but it spoke a truth quieter, yet more powerful than all the vitriol he wanted to hurl at Eva.
"I can't keep doing this. It's been too hard," Neil's voice broke.
Eva opened her mouth but no words came out. Something caught her eye behind Neil.
"Neil?" came Alistair's voice.
Neil turned to see Alistair standing in the doorway.
"Hello, Eva," said Alistair with a wave. "Long time no see. Neil, the patient's in critical condition. We must hurry. My apologies, Eva."
Neil turned back to Eva. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to leave and do his job.
"How long will you be sticking around?" said Neil.
"Craig's on his way to pick me up," replied Eva, a little apologetically.
Of course, thought Neil. Eva's boyfriend would be on his way to make Neil's life difficult, as always.
Neil turned to go.
"You and I need to talk," he said over his shoulder.
"I know," said Eva, meekly.
Neil followed Alistair out of Hector Riveira's room and a few doors down to their client's - Horace Greenlove's - room.
Fifteen minutes later, Neil bolted out of Horace Greenlove's room, and tore down the hallway a few doors down to Hector Riveira's room.
"Eva?"
There was no one there except Hector Riveira and a nurse, both staring at him with scandalized looks.
"Excuse me, where's Eva?" Neil asked urgently.
"Who?" said the nurse, incredulously.
"The lady who was here earlier by your bedside," Neil spoke directly to Hector. "Eva. Do you know where she is?"
Hector exchanged perplexed looks at the nurse. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry, young man. I'm afraid I don't know an Eva," said Hector.
"Eva. Dr. Eva Rosalene. She was visiting you not too long ago."
"I'm sorry, there are no doctors by that name at this hospice," said the nurse.
"No! She's not a...Ugh, sir! Mr. Riveira, was it? Where's the lady that was visiting you just now?" Neil addressed the old man.
"Sir, visiting hours are over. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," warned the nurse. Neil ignored her.
"Oh, are you referring to the young lady you were speaking to? Long black hair? Dark skin?" said Hector.
Neil nearly laughed in relief. "Yes! Yes, her! Do you know where she went?"
"Oh, Bonnie? She left a few minutes ago," said Hector. "Her husband, Craig, came to pick her up."
Neil was already halfway out the door when he stopped.
"Wait...Bonnie?"
Hector nodded. "Mmhm. That's my daughter. Been through a lot, the poor thing. First her mother died, then she got arrested. I'm just glad she came to visit her old man amidst all that."
Neil inched out of the door. "I'm...still very confused, but I gotta go." He hurried out of the room, out of the hallway, and out of the hospice just in time to see Eva walk toward a car parked in the loading zone of the roundabout driveway.
"Eva!" called Neil.
Eva turned around.
"Neil!"
Neil caught up with her, panting.
"Neil, what're you doing here? What about your patient?!" said Eva, aghast.
"He's dead," said Neil.
"...What about his wish?"
"We didn't make it in time."
Neil wondered how many surprises Eva could experience in one day before she'd stop making that astonished face.
"Neil...That's really bad. You could get suspended. Or worse!"
"Eva...It. Happens." Neil wanted to shake her. "These things are beyond our control. We're newbies - did you remember that? We're going to suck for a while. But at least I'm not about to pre-emptively quit my job just so I could leave on my own terms!"
Just as the words were coming out of his mouth, he realized just how hypocritical he sounded. It seems he and Eva had an unfortunate trait in common. His anger abated a little.
"Neil, this isn't like...messing up a fast-food order. Someone counted on us to make their deaths a little easier, and we failed. Well, first it was my failure, but I guess now this makes two of us."
Craig, Eva's boyfriend, rolled down his car window.
"Uhh, is everything alright?" he asked.
"Shut the hell up, Craig," barked Neil, without looking at him.
"Don't talk to him like that," warned Eva.
Neil kneaded his brow. "Look, just...answer me something, please." He looked her in the eye. "Why did you leave?"
Eva broke eye contact. "Because I'm not cut out for this."
"Bullshit. You got us both into this job. This was your idea."
"I know. And I'm sorry. I regret...all of that."
That stung.
Eva sighed, "Look, Neil...I didn't just make some innocent newbie mistake. I put everyone in that house in danger - worst of all, you. You wanted to do the smart thing and leave Lolita's memories to help me, but I told you to stay and fulfill her wish because I'm a fucking idiot! I didn't fail because I was new; I failed because I can't make intelligent decisions under duress.
"I mean, I know people have a certain level of patience with others' mistakes, but that just doesn't apply to our job. You either get it perfect or you fail miserably. And now that I've done the latter, those kinds of odds are taking a toll on me that I never anticipated. I can't keep failing dying people, Neil. I can't keep failing you. That's why I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, Neil..."
Eva turned and opened the car's passenger door.
"So that's it. You're giving up," said Neil.
"I'm moving on to something I'll be good at," replied Eva, getting into the car. Neil held the car door, preventing her from closing it.
"Like what?" Neil demanded.
"I'll figure it out. Let go," said Eva, trying to yank the door out of Neil's grip.
"Believe me, I've tried letting go. Turns out I'm not as good at it as I thought I was."
"What? Let go of the door, you idiot! You're going to break something!"
Neil held on tighter. "Listen, if you were anyone else, I would've forgotten you by now."
He looked her in the eyes as they tugged on the door back and forth. "But you're not anyone else. You're Eva Catherine Rosalene. You love plants. You love the color green, but pastel yellow's your favorite. You might even love your boyfriend - I dunno."
"Aww," said Craig.
"But I've never seen you love anything more than making the elderly happy. In the short time you were at Sig Corp, you cared more about the job than any of us did. You're not even an employee anymore, and you're visiting Lolita's husband, for God's sake!"
"Ex-husband, actually. Poor guy keeps calling me his daughter, Bonnie," said Eva. "He seems lonely. And more than a little out of it."
Neil took advantage of Eva letting her guard down and yanked the car door out of her grasp.
"Look...I'm sorry I never contacted you after you quit. I'm sorry I never gave a thought about the hell you must've gone through, because I was too bitter about being left behind. I truly am sorry. Just know that there's a part of you that was made for this job, and you can't deny that. And don't forget you have me! I can keep your dumb ideas in check, while you keep me out of harm's way. We'll be the dream team Sig Corp's never had!
"But, if you're really calling it quits..." Neil's wavered. "...then the least you could do is give me a proper goodbye."
Eva grimaced as if her heart was breaking. She shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Neil. I can't say goodbye to you."
Neil stood there in disbelief. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Was this it?
Slowly, reluctantly, he pushed the car door and it swung shut. As the car drove away, he thought he saw Eva bury her face in her hands.
To be continued...
Next: Act 3 (final) - The Case of the Dream Team
