I'm back from a long hiatus. Now that my work is starting to cut some of my hours, I can have more time to myself, so I now have some time to write again. I'll be out of town (and possibly away from internet) from Aug. 1st to Aug. 10th, so it'll probably be awhile before I have the next or so chapters up. Also, once school starts back, I'll have band, work, The Literary Club, acting class, and voice lessons to go to, so chapters will be sparse until I get some more free time. So read up, and enjoy, and I'll try to crank out a few more chapters before I leave for Chicago!
~~*~~
I don't know why I even went there. It was pride, maybe. I just got out of bed that morning, with a mission to do, and my mind (or God) wouldn't let me rest until I had finished what I needed to.
That's why I found myself standing out of Mark's office, my hand in a fist, as to knock. I noticed it trembling before I started knocking. "Mark?"
"Ramona," he said, recognizing my voice. And why shouldn't he? I had called him at 2 in the morning more than once to talk. "Come in."
I stood by the door when I entered. "Can I talk to you about something?"
"Yes, anything," he said. He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat."
I sat, not knowing how to approach the subject.
"What do you want to talk about?" Mark asked.
"Um, Jesse. I'm worried about him. I mean, I'm worried about Meg, of course, since I'm her mother, but Jesse, well, he's the closest thing to a friend Meg has ever had, and well, I feel kind of indebted to him because he helped save her life, and well," I rushed out quickly in case I lost the nerve. I took a deep breath, let it out, and took another deep breath to help calm my nerves. "I just want to know if there is any way I can help Jesse," I said at last.
"Right now, he's being too stubborn to accept help. He's going to therapy, but I think it's just with the illusion of "getting help". Now, the only way to help him is to just be there when he either opens up or breaks down. The more probable of the two is the latter," he said. My stomach knotted up. Jesse always appeared to be so strong. The thought of him breaking down is heart wrenching. Like when Meg broke down. Maybe that's why they both became good friends.
"That's what I was afraid of," I said. "I feel like this is all of my fault. If I hadn't moved in the same building as Jesse lived, if I had been there for Meg, she wouldn't be so messed up, if I had chosen my boyfriends more wisely, then maybe..." I said, breaking off because I felt close to tears.
Mark came over to my side of the desk to put his arm on my shoulder. "Ramona, there is nothing you can do now," he said. "'What if' focuses on the past, and right now, the past isn't where you need to be. You need to focus on now, and how you are going to help both Meg and Jesse," he said, wisely.
I nodded, stood up, and hugged the man who had been my lifeline these past few months. "Thank you, Mark. For everything."
~~*~~
I felt much better after talking to Mark, as if a weight had been lifted, and it had. It had been a week since I'd seen Meg, and I realized that it was time for another visit to the "facility".
She ran out to meet me, from the pool, dripping wet and freezing cold. "MOM!" she exclaimed. "You made it!"
"Of course, sweetie. How has everything been since I saw you last?"
"Great. For once, I'm starting to be happy. Happy is something new, and surprisingly, a bit scary, but I like it."
"You look great," I said. And she did. Her bones weren't protruding as much, and despite her being freezing cold from the wet, her cheeks had a bit more color in them than even from the 4th of July picnic out at Mark's. "Why don't you go and change in some dry, warm clothes. You're freezing," I said.
"Ok. Wait in the visitor's lounge, and I'll be out in a bit."
~*~
She came out in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Her excitement from earlier had dissipated a bit, but the joy was still evident on her face.
"So, how's everyone?"
"Mark, Steve, and Amanda are doing great," I started.
"And Jesse?"
"Well, honey, he's been a bit depressed, but I think that he's doing a
bit better. He's in therapy now," I
said, lying a bit about Jesse so Meg wouldn't worry too much.
"Good, so hopefully he'll be more 'emotionally regulated'."
We spent the rest of the visit discussing her progress. "Oh! Dr. Jones says that if I'm still progressing this well, that in a couple of weeks I can be moved to a half-way house!" she said.
"That's what she told me, too. And Mr. Scotch is saying that he's pleased with how you've progressed," I said.
"Wow, Mr. Butter Scotch being pleased with something," she said, with a raised eyebrow.
I couldn't help but chuckle at that. The nurse announced that the visit was almost over, so I took Meg in my arms, and almost cut off the air supply, I hugged her so hard. "I'm so proud of you. You've been fighting to get well, and, honey, you have a lot of fight in you," I said, my eyes misting over.
"Thank you. I love you, mom," she said, as we parted ways.
I'm so proud of her.
~~*~~
It was stupidity how it happened. I was on a chair, putting in a light bulb one minute, and the next minute, I'm on the floor, with a very painful ankle. I tried to get up a couple of times, but I ended up back on the floor, in even more pain. I resorted to crawling to the phone and calling Jesse.
"Hello," he said, as if I woke him up.
"I'm sorry to call you this early, but I woke up, and my bulb in my bathroom was out, so I went to change it, and somehow, I've twisted my ankle really badly," I gasped out.
"I'll be right there," he said, hanging up the phone. I was on the floor, trying not to move my foot when he knocked on the door. *DAMN* It was locked.
"Jesse, there is a key on top of the door frame!" I yelled through the door. In just a few minutes of him searching for the key, and actually unlocking it, he came in, and saw me.
"My ankle," I said. He quickly bent down to examine my swollen right ankle, pressing his fingers to feel if it were broken or not. He hit a particularly sore spot, and I said something that I would die if I heard Meg say it.
"I think it's broken, although I can't tell for sure until it's x-rayed," he said. "Let me help you out to my car, and I can take you to Community General to get you checked out," he said as he helped me up. It was a slow and painful walk, or hop, out to the car, but finally, we made it. I practically collapsed in the front seat as he went over to the left side.
I must have drifted off, because the next thing I know, we're in front of the hospital, and he has a wheelchair on my side. After a few minutes of negotiating, to keep weight off my right foot, I finally got into the wheelchair, and was wheeled into a treatment room.
"Wait here until I get an x-ray room," he told me as he hurried off. Amanda came by, saw me in the room, and came to talk.
"What did you do?" she asked, concerned.
"I got beat up by the chair," I joked. "Jesse's clearing out an x-ray room to check how bad I mangled up by ankle," I said, gesturing to the still swelling right ankle.
She winced at the sight. "I hope you feel better. I have to do an autopsy," she said as she exited. I was in so much pain, I just waved her away.
Jesse rushed in a few minutes later, announcing a cleared x-ray room, and whisked me off in the wheelchair.
~~*~~
He held up an x-ray film up to the light, and announced, "Yep, it's broken. It's not going to be easy to set, and I'd recommend surgery to fix it."
"How long will the surgery be?"
"About 2 hours. We'll go in, put a couple of pins in to stabilize the bone, and then close it up," he explained.
"Will you be in there?" I asked.
"Yes, so you have nothing to worry about."
"Ok, I'll do it," I said. I don't like the idea of surgery, but knowing Jesse will be assisting made me feel a lot better about the whole idea.
The next couple of hours were a blur, preparing for surgery, calling Meg to let her know, etc. Then, finally, I was in the operating room. The last thing I remember was the mast coming over my face and being told to count backwards from 100.
