2.

I let myself into the house late that night after what felt like hours of Intro to Matlab, rolling my neck and grunting a bit as I kicked off my boots into the coat closet. I pressed a speed dial number, tucked my cellphone between my right shoulder and my ear, then promptly turned and tripped over a pair of sneakers in the middle of the entryway.

"God dammit, Emmett, you damned slob." The words were still leaving my mouth when I realized my call had connected, and I cringed.

"Excuse me??"

"Oh, Ma… I'm so sorry."

"You must have had a long day," my mother laughed.

"I did," I admitted. "I really should have waited to call you in the morning." I wandered into the kitchen and set my backpack on a chair.

"But I told you to call me tonight. I would have worried, baby. How did your first day go?"

"It was… enlightening." I saw Mary Louise's strange, gray gaze in my mind again, stopped in front of the refrigerator, scrubbed my free hand over my face.

My mother's voice became worried. "Enlightening. What is it, Jasper? Was it not what you expected?"

"No. No, I guess it wasn't," I said slowly, then rushed to add, "But it was perfect, Ma. It's not going to be boring." I'll see you tomorrow, Custer. I swung open the refrigerator and took out a beer. "Not boring at all."

"I just want you to be happy, my boy," she said in her Motherly Tone. I could practically feel her hand smoothing over my hair the way she always did when she said that. I even smiled a little as I popped the top off my beer with the cast iron opener bolted into the side of the food pantry. "Jasper Thomas Whitlock, was that a beer you just opened?"

I chuckled. "Yes, Ma. But don't worry. It's a Shiner Bock."

She laughed again. "That's my boy. I guess you have homework to do?"

"Always," I sighed. "Thank you, Ma. I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I love you, baby."

I pressed 'End,' tipped the beer up to my mouth, and drank it all down in long, loud swallows, then dropped the empty brown bottle in the recycle bin.

Emmett came shuffling in just then in his underwear. "Yo, Jasper," he said, with a two-finger forehead salute.

I belched at him and swung the fridge door open again.

"Hey, get me one of those, too."

"Jackass, I tripped over your stinkin' sneakers again," I grumbled, and handed him a bottle of Red Hook.

"Did ya pick 'em up? S'what I keep you around for, woman. Damn."

I grinned, shook my head, popped my beer top, and grabbed my backpack. "I figured I'd just leave 'em out there for Edward to find."

Emmett grumbled and headed for the entryway. "Okay, okay. Oh, by the way," he hollered as I was going up the stairs, taking them two at a time. "Edward got us a New Year's Eve gig. PAR-TAY!" I heard his sneakers thump against the inside walls of the closet.

An Edward gig. That sounded… last minute. I turned right at the top of the stairs and headed for Edward's room.

***

"A costume party at the Unicorn?" I stared at Edward like he'd grown an extra head.

"SHH!" he poked his head out the door with a panicked expression.

I snorted. "You didn't tell Emmett, did you."

"Would you?"

"Hell, no."

Edward's caterpillar eyebrows did that puppy dog thing.

"Oh, HELL, no. I can't handle it when he cries."

"You're a shrink!"

"Not doin' it."

He raked a hand through his hair. "Fine. Will you go to the costume shop with us tomorrow, though?"

"Sure," I said, and clapped him on the back as I slipped past him. "Good luck. And stay outta arms' reach, man. He's drinking."

***

After two hours of homework, I was starting to have a hell of a time concentrating and decided to call it quits and head to bed. The house was dark and quiet. I hoped Emmett hadn't killed Edward in a power bar fueled temper tantrum over having been fooled into thinking we were actually going to a respectable New Year's Eve party. I wouldn't have admitted it to my roommates- they were both running on some pretty serious macho trips, if on different ends of the macho spectrum- but a costume party sounded fun. It was fascinating seeing what costumes people chose for themselves, and how differently they behaved behind the makeup and the masks.

I settled down on my bed with my acoustic guitar in my lap, head propped back against the headboard and eyes closed, and let my fingers pick out a random melody as my mind wandered. It was usually the only way I could relax enough to fall asleep after a long day, and today had been a challenging one. I let a half-smile flit over my face in the dark.

Meadowview. I hadn't lied to my mother. I wasn't sure I'd be a star employee there, that the patients would automatically all fall into line and interact with me according to my memorized textbook knowledge and my killer charm and instinct, that I wouldn't walk out of those old-fashioned double doors after every single shift in the same befuddled, excited state I'd left that afternoon. Cathy had actually pulled me aside and told me that Mae was worried. She'd asked me what happened with Mary Louise Brandon and I hadn't been sure how to answer. I'd stammered and finally said that she reminded me of someone, someone who had passed, and I'd felt guilty and relieved at once when Cathy's expression had shifted to pity and understanding. I had promised I wouldn't let it affect my performance. I had lied. Embellished, even.

But it felt wonderful, almost romantic. It was as if every turquoise-and-tan room, every Bookman font chart on every white plastic clipboard, every medication-fogged expression was a puzzle for me to solve, a hurdle for me to jump.

And Mary Louise. Mary Louise Brandon was a conundrum to unravel. She didn't remind me of anyone. How could she? I slid my fingers down on the neck of my guitar to play lower, slower chords that matched the frown I felt pull my brows together.

The important question was what exactly it was she had made me feel. Why could come later. First, I had to decide if Cathy and Mae were right to have been worried about me.

I opened my eyes and looked down at my fingers, started to sing under my breath.

You tell me that you've got everything you want,
And your bird can sing,
But you don't get me, You don't get me.

You say you've seen seven wonders, And your bird is green,
But you can't see me, You can't see me.

I thought about that first flash of panic, that fear that I might be attracted to her. Sexually attracted to a patient. To a woman my Mama's age. I'd denied it at the time, but why else would my heart have raced like that? So I pondered it. I needed to know. It wasn't too late to request a transfer.

My guitar fell quiet. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and pictured Mary Louise's face. She was lovely, to be sure. But… no matter how I tried, I could conjure up no fantasy of stolen kisses or secret caresses. She looked like an angel, I thought. Like a fallen angel, trying to remember, trying to understand where she was and why she'd lost her wings. But the expression on her face when she'd smiled at me- it was as if she had recognized me.

A sudden pounding on the door scared me so bad I almost threw my guitar off the bed.

"What the fuck?" I shouted.

"Are you asleep yet?" Emmett. I swear to Jesus… "You're not whacking off, are you? I can come back."

"What do you want," I relented, getting up to set my guitar aside before Emmett managed somehow to destroy it after all.

He opened the door and leaned on the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest defensively. "Whitlock, dude. You gotta help me. Tell Edward we had plans. Let's go to The Red Bar and get drunk. You gotta back me up here, man."

I chuckled. "I already talked to him, Emmett. Give it a chance. It'll be fun."

"It's called the Unicorn. Have you seen the place?"

"No, I haven't. But, c'mon. Get out. I need some sleep." I used the door to push him back out into the hallway.

"I'll remember this, Whitlock!" he grumbled. "Put that damn guitar away and spank the monkey once in a while before you turn into a woman!" His voice raised in volume and pissiness as I closed the door in his face, chuckling.

*** ***

Lyrics from "And Your Bird Can Sing" by The Beatles, from the album "Revolver," 1966.