9
"What are you doing here?" An ironic twist on an earlier conversation.
"I'm sorry…may I come in?"
"Yes – yes, of course," Kerry moved backwards into the hall.
"Your face!" A warm but apologetic smile graced Kim's face as she observed Kerry's state: Kerry's face was awash with confusion. Her forehead was creased with concern, her mouth hung open with shock. The colour had drained from her face, leaving her skin eerily pale when compared to her bright red hair.
"You've, er, you've got- " Kim had come to a stop in front of Kerry, and thinking of nothing else to say, Kerry reached out and removed a leaf from Kim's wild curls.
"Oh, thank-you!" a gentle laugh came forth from Kim, "The winter weather…things are always getting tangled up up there!"
"Yes."
"Kerry?"
"Yes?" a clipped, strained tone.
"Is this a bad time?"
"No,"
"Oh, it's just you don't seem very…poly-syllabic," Kim said, smiling gently and inclining her head lightly to one side.
"Sorry…"
"Not at all! It's my fault really…I should have called beforehand. I can always come back…another time, perhaps?"
"No, no! I'm sorry. Come in!"
"Okay then, if that's ok with you," Kim raised an eyebrow questionably, for the door was still wide open and the winter wind was gushing in.
Trying hard for a smile, but managing only taut, stretched lips, Kerry gingerly stepped past Kim and heavily but affirmatively pushed the front door shut on the outside world. Now all that she knew was that she and the blond psychiatrist were standing a little too close, in a dimly-lit hallway with only the sound of a distant, ticking clock. Counting down, Kerry thought to herself. But to what?
Kim was the first to break the awkward scene. She took a step away from Kerry, at the same time moving a jerky hand through her hair, perhaps to disguise her movement. Kerry exhaled slowly, she realised she had been holding her breath up until this point. She didn't know where to look. In the narrow hallway, with Kim just a few feet from her, it suddenly seemed that her years of wishing Kim were near her could have been a little more specific - it was awkward to look upon that calm face from so close. The clear blue eyes that once-upon-a-time had spoken privately to Kerry, the fleshy lips that Kerry used to lovingly kiss, the thick blonde lashes that Kerry had gazed at in the early mornings when Kim was still in a dream world…Kim's face had once belonged to Kerry and now she felt like a stranger, like she had no right to look so closely, that she was intruding on something separate from her. She settled on staring at the floor.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed, but maybe it was just a few seconds before Kim's clear voice rescued Kerry from her paralysis.
"I'm freezing. You don't have any coffee, do you?"
Kerry was glad for this distraction. Kim had clearly recognised her confusion and had generously offered Kerry a chance to do something, to be useful, most of all, to have a minute to herself.
"Yes, yes, of course. Er…do you want to hang up your coat – just there" Kerry waited while Kim slipped out of the padded coat. As Kim's numbed hands fumbled with her buttons Kerry couldn't help wishing that she was helping Kim to shed her winter layers! "The living-room's just to the left…" She followed Kim into the homely room and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa. "Sorry…let me clear this away", with fast movements Kerry scooped up her morning's work and deposited it in the hall: somehow the question of nurses' salaries wasn't quite the conversation-starter required. As Kerry cleared Kim's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the large fireplace and tasteful decorations. Kerry, returning into the room, noticed that Kim's gaze had fallen onto the baby monitor on the table. She chose not to raise the subject of Henry quite so soon.
"I'll just be in the kitchen, making coffee,"
"Thank-you,"
"You…just…make yourself at home," Kerry kicked herself as she walked out of the room. It was the wrong thing to say – of course it was! How stupid, how absolutely stupid could she be to utter a sentence like that after so many years. Home! The word sounded bitter in her head now. This was the home she had built with Sandy. This wasn't Kim's home. There was no chance of that.
As she played around with coffee beans and boiling kettle, Kerry tried to preoccupy herself in any way possible. But diversions were useless; Kim was sitting in her living-room, and soon she would have to converse with her – properly. Find out why it was Kim was here. Oh God! Kerry suddenly panicked. Was Kim dying? Was that it? The hospital stuff, and now this…had she come to say goodbye? But then why did she look so calm? It was all she could do to stop herself rushing into the living-room that very minute and pleading with Kim to tell her the horrible anticipated truth. She forced herself to stay calm though, to make the coffee, to stop being so silly. Of course Kim wasn't dying; not when she looked so great!
As Kerry entered the living-room the phone gave a sudden shrill ring. Kerry paused in her steps.
"It's alright, you can get it," Kim said.
"I, it's probably just the hospital." Kerry remarked, but all the same she felt herself moving towards it, placing the coffee down and answering. Another minute with which to procrastinate the inevitable, she thought to herself. Odd, after so many years hoping for contact and now you're doing everything you can to delay actual communication.
"Hi baby," it was Sandy's soft tones that greeted Kerry.
Kerry felt sick to her stomach with guilt. Why though? She wasn't doing anything wrong, but somehow, just having Kim in the same room as her was enough.
"Er, hi" It was a struggle for such simple words to come out of her mouth. She turned away from Kim and stared at the cream wall.
"I just wanted to check-up on you; you were still snoring away when I left this morning! Feeling okay, no hangover?"
"No."
"You okay sweetie, you sound clipped"
"Yeah. Everything's fine." She closed her eyes, "fine."
"Okay then. Oh, I'd better go. Break is almost over."
"Oh"
"Love you,"
"Yeah…bye" Luckily Sandy had clearly been distracted from her centre, or Kerry would not have got away with her end of the conversation. She turned off the phone and remained still for a few seconds before hurriedly replacing it in its cradle.
"Just the hospital," she told Kim, and was surprised at how easy the lie was, "Nothing important."
"That's good."
"Sorry – here's your coffee"
Kim took a small sip and smiled, "I can't believe you still remember,"
"What?"
"How I take it,"
Kim was right, Kerry realised. After so many years, Kerry hadn't even paused to think twice before adding skimmed milk and half a teaspoon of sugar. The realisation made her feel a little queasy.
"Don't worry," Kim had noticed Kerry's response, "I still drink rooibos…and I can make a mean Kerry Weaver risotto!"
Cautiously Kerry laughed. This was greeted by a sad smile from Kim and Kerry's queasiness returned. Before she could stop herself she had blurted out, "What's wrong? Why are you here? I mean…how are you?"
Kim gave a deep sigh, "I don't know quite where to begin Kerry. Sorry…this must be very awkward; I didn't mean to trouble you so much,"
Kerry shook her head energetically, "Kim," and her words came out as a whisper, "Kim you could never trouble me…ever." She felt the colour rising to her cheeks as she said this, and glanced towards her feet.
"Kerry…I'm ill."
One short, simple sentence and the truth was out. Kerry looked back up, horrified. Kim was now staring at the floor but she must have felt Kerry's shocked gaze because her head came up again and her clear blue eyes met Kerry's startled ones. But there was no further embellishment.
"What…what do you mean?"
"I don't want you to worry Kerry – I'm fine, honestly. I just thought you should know…I didn't want you to find out from somebody else, that's all,"
"Well what is it? What's wrong? What's happening?" Suddenly Kerry couldn't stop herself and all her confusion from the past weeks flooded out of her, "I knew! I knew there was something wrong. I...well I knew you were in County – I came, I came to see you but you were gone…"
Normally the two women would be embracing by now, Kerry thought bitterly, if they were anyone else. They would be close together on the same sofa. Kim would break the news gently, holding her hand, she would cry with the shock and then comfort Kim, they would hold each other and suffer together. But her history with Kim prevented this from happening. It would be too close, too personal. Instead they sat, separated by a coffee table, each with their own space, each with their own thoughts, suffering alone, quietly, internally.
"I know," Kim said gently, "I know you came. That's why I'm here now. I didn't think I could leave you with no explanation. I was in County to have a lumbar puncture. It was supposed to be an in and out job, but I got the headache so they kept me in for a couple of days, just bed rest and fluids; I'm fine"
"A lumbar puncture? Why?" Kerry's mind was in worst-case-scenario mode. Could it be leukaemia? Meningitis?
"I have MS Kerry. Well…it's not proven. The spinal tap was to help formalise the diagnosis."
Kerry said nothing. She could think of nothing to say.
"There's a great neurologist at County, Harry Lowell. I've been seeing him for a few months now. He's been incredibly helpful. I'm coming back to live in Chicago Kerry, where my family and friends are. They say you need a good support base."
"MS?"
"Yes."
"Well…how bad is it? Is it progressive?"
"I don't know yet, Kerry. It's in the relapsing remitting stage now. And hey, I'm a late developer, at the end of the age range, so maybe it'll stay that way. Maybe not."
"What symptoms do you have?"
"Oh I'm alright; no incontinence as of yet!"
"Don't."
"Pardon?"
"Don't joke...please"
"Sorry. Sometimes it's all I can do."
Kerry looked at Kim, her beautiful eyes…were they as clear as they appeared to be or was Kim experiencing blurred vision even now? And when Kim had taken off her coat…had that been hard for her, were his fingers growing clumsy? Was she secretly in pain? Kerry decided to ignore these questions for now and focus on Kim's other news.
"You're back in Chicago?"
"I will be soon,"
"Working at County?" If so, how could life ever be the same again?
"There are a few possibilities right now. No definite arrangements."
"But you will be working?"
"Of course. I won't let some physical problems distract me from understanding peoples' mental troubles! I hardly think Kerry Weaver needs a lowly Psychiatrist to quote statistics at her, but a lot of people with MS are still working, as you well know."
"Yes, but that's with the benign form,"
"Kerry…I can work now. I'm no less of a Psychiatrist because I have a crummy body. I've been hounded out of a job before because of my sexuality; it's not going to happen again because I'm ill. I didn't have the support I needed before. This time I'm making sure I have it. That's why I'm back in Chicago".
At this last remark Kerry felt her face growing red once again. She had hoped that Kim might have forgiven or forgotten Kerry's past involvement by now, but by the tone of Kim's voice past betrayals were still wrought with emotion.
"Kim you know I regret that! You know I'm sorry. I want to support you, now…how can I prove that to you?"
Kim looked coldly at Kerry, "For once this isn't about you Kerry. None of this has anything to do with you, not in the slightest. But living in Chicago and seeing a neurologist at County I decided it would be generous to just let you know what was happening in my life. That doesn't mean I want you involved. And it doesn't mean my private life has anything to do with you now."
Kerry was shocked. Kim had seemed gentle and open until now. Suddenly the new unknown world Kim had just opened up for Kerry was dramatically closing again.
"I'm sorry, Kim. I know this has nothing to do with me. Of course I do. I just want you to know that, that I'm here if ever you do need me. Things change. I've changed." An image of Henry popped into her mind as she said this. Henry, who she has forgotten until this moment. Henry, who was upstairs, sleeping in his cot. Who she should have woken and fed fifteen minutes ago. Henry, who she would continue to ignore as long as Kim was here.
Kim sighed. She seemed tired to Kerry as she ran a hand through her blonde curls. "Sorry…I didn't mean to snap. I swore to myself that I wouldn't get emotional when I came here today."
"Emotional?" Kerry's heart jumped. If Kim was still feeling emotional, then at least she wasn't completely indifferent to Kerry.
"I don't want to open myself up to this again Kerry, not today, not now. I can't deal with so much at once."
"Kim, I don't understand…open yourself up to what? To…friendship?"
Kim shook her head, smiling, "Kerry, you never were one to read signs, were you?"
"What do you mean?"
"That day…that day you came to me, in New York…I felt, seeing you, Kerry you have no idea what I felt that day."
"Tell me," Kerry whispered, looking intently at her ex-lover.
"I felt like years hadn't passed. I felt it was only days. I felt," Kim waved her arms wildly in the air, "I felt like I felt the day you saw me with Lori,"
There was a silence. And then Kerry broke it.
"How did you feel then?"
Kim sighed again, deeply. Her teeth played with her bottom lip, "Guilty."
The two women sat in silence together, each with her own thoughts, each avoiding the other's eyes. The revelation seemed to have irrevocably transformed their current interaction. If Kim had felt guilty when Kerry caught her with Lori, and again in New York, then that must mean that Kim still felt some responsibility to Kerry. That Kim felt connected to Kerry and accountable for her actions.
Kerry couldn't believe what was happening. She, the bureaucratic manager of the ER, the logical, sensible, rational one, who always had an answer for everything and always had an opinion, she, Kerry Weaver, was flailing in a world of emotion. And the only times this ever happened to her was when she was around Kimberly Legaspi: When she temporarily forgot to disguise her passion during patient consults in the ER; when she neglected to peer behind herself in the street before kissing those welcome lips; when she admitted fault in her dealings with patients and when she had no second thoughts before skipping work and flying all the way to New York. This was the only woman, the only human, whose plain presence forced Kerry to abandon her fears, her reason, her rules, and to follow her emotions. What a shame she hadn't been able to do so when it had really mattered.
"You know, we never really talked about that," Kerry shocked herself with these words, this reference to a past that she had always run from.
"That was rather the point," Kim laughed self-mockingly, "I guess I do owe you an explanation on that front…"
"No you don't."
"No, but…I'd like to explain." Kim paused and stared into her coffee. She hadn't taken a second sip since their conversation had started and Kerry was acutely aware of this fact. "Lori…she meant nothing to me Kerry. I, I don't know why I'm telling you this now. It won't do any good. But Lori…she was just some young thing that I used. I used her Kerry. I used her to help me get over you. It didn't work. I didn't feel any better after. Every moment with her I was wishing she was you. And, when you saw her, I felt guilty, but of course, I was too stubborn to admit it. To own up to the fact that I owed you more faithfulness than that, so soon after we had been together."
"But my letter…if you felt like that, why didn't you say so? You knew I would still have you back!"
"You wrote that letter before you saw Lori and I. I…I was an idiot Kerry – I suffered from the same predicament as you – illogical fear! I might have been fine with my sexuality, and being out but I was scared about truly opening up, about being completely honest and about facing rejection. It's stupid, I know, and I've regretted it for so many years. But I was still angry, and I was still hurting. I felt, at the time, that I was at least in control over one aspect of my life – you. I had no say over my job, and my future, but I could choose what to about you. And after having lost everything, well, I just wanted a new beginning. I didn't want to hold on to you, only to face losing you over and over again. I didn't want to come clean about my feelings when you might have just turned and run – again. That letter…it made me cry for days, but I could never be completely sure that it was true, that you would put your feelings into action. I didn't want to give you the chance. I didn't want to be hurt again. I thought you would have changed your mind after seeing Lori. And even though in my heart of hearts I knew that wasn't true, I just didn't want to open myself up to pain again, all over again." Kim hadn't looked up once during her confession. But the sound of Kerry's movement caused her to look up. Kerry had risen from her chair and come to crouch on the ground before Kim. She looked up into Kim's watery eyes.
"And now?" Kerry asked gently.
"And now…seeing you, in New York, I feel exactly the same way."
"Unable to bear the pain of a relationship?"
"In love."
