Beep—beep—beep. The sound of the pestering machine in the insanely dull white room kept on interrupting Tegan's train of thoughts. She had been reliving the scene in her own aching head for the past forty minutes, fearing every beep could be the last; scared one beep could end up being a long, mind-throttling, never-ending beeeeeeeeeep.
Vagueness swiveled and orbited in thin air. A heap of broken images where the sun beats/ And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief/ And the dry stone no sound of water. Only/ There is shadow under this red rock/ (Come in under the shadow of this red rock)/ And I will show you something different from either/ Your shadow at morning striding behind you/ Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you/ I will show you fear in a handful of dust. Tegan sobbed.
It was some kind of a strange shadow, wasn't it? Oh, yes, it certainly was. Fear had been her shadow and there it was, alive; smiling like a clown; permeating sordidly without shame and with so much glory. Fear was never gone and Tegan didn't know whether she was glad she had anticipated its predestined arrival, or she should feel angry that she was shocked, broken-hearted, and disappointed. She knew it was coming, why would she be disappointed? Was it too soon? Oh, God, yes, it was. It was too soon, in a rush, in a hurry. It just came bursting through her window and now it was sitting cross-legged, head high, straight-statured; like an aristocratic lady bored out of her wits in a ball, yet pretending she's the queen of the universe in England's eighteenth's century. Tegan remembered The Rape of The Lock. Fuck Arabella Fermor; fuck Belinda and her stupid hair; fuck Alexander Pope, Tegan thought.
And definitely fuck T.S Eliot and his stupid Wasteland. It was him. That poem was a ghost he had written in verse. That poem haunted her and haunted their lives. It was always that shadow, the fear, that sordidness, that land of the dead in Tegan's brain cells.
"Tegan," Stacy chimed in, joining the melody of interruption. "She's gonna be fine. Trust me, it's only stress. Calm down. Let her sleep."
Tegan shook her head and cried.
"I know these symptoms, Tegan. She used to faint a lot when she was your age. She gets overexcited or too stressed out and faints."
Tegan refused to believe the simplicity of the situation. She knew her luck and she knew Evil conquered when Happiness tried to make an entrance in her life. It's like Evil was spying on Happiness and it tracked her down. Once he saw her, he beat her up and took her place.
"Relax." Stacy touched her arm and gently pushed her down on the grey couch inside the hospital room. "Sit down." Tegan shrugged Stacy's touch off. "You faint all the time, and you know it's only her blood pressure. They told us it's her blood pressure and now they're making more tests to make sure. Just calm down, sweetie."
"Don't tell me what to do," Tegan said with gritted teeth.
"Okay, fine. I'm sorry…but you're gonna wake her up." Maybe because she wanted her to wake up, talk, interact, smile, promise that nothing was wrong even though everything was wrong.
Stacy was being more irritating than her usually annoying self. Tegan didn't know what to do when Sara was lying there stone cold and lifeless in front of her. She panicked; she was struck with new levels of fear and delirium. She was moving in a labyrinthine haze, trying to do something but freezing in her place.
And the pictures were back again. Stupid pictures. She started crying again and Stacy tsked again and sighed.
She called Stacy because she didn't know who else to call. How irresponsible, immature, weak, and clueless she had felt at that moment. Maybe part of her gushing tears was the fact she couldn't handle it on her own. She had to dial Stacy and had to beg her to come over. Not that Stacy needed begging, she was there in less than five minutes (that was the only benefit of her renting a place a street away from Sara's). She even stayed on the phone as she drove to Sara's place.
"Spill some cold water on her face," Stacy shouted through the speaker. "Shake her and spray some water. Is she breathing? Is she bleeding?"
Tegan moved around checking Sara's pulse, checking for blood, shaking the lifeless form. Tegan wailed and mouthed things even she couldn't comprehend. Stacy panicked as well because Tegan did not make any sense. They both thought Sara was gone.
"Why isn't she waking up?" Stacy yelled.
"I don't fucking know. I don't know. Oh my god. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Tegan was hugging Sara and crying. Sara was breathing but the beating was so faint and so slow.
"Lift her legs up. Oh my god. Lift her legs up and spray some cologne in her face. Her mum used to do that when she was a kid." Just then Stacy burst through the door. She was much faster and more efficient than Tegan. Tegan felt lost; while Stacy did all the things she was talking about: she lifted Sara's legs up and made Tegan hold them. She told Ella to splash cold water on the professor's pale face, and she herself sprayed cologne, making Sara jump up with a sudden cough of irritation and a wince of disturbance.
Tegan screamed and hugged Sara, who closed her eyes as soon as she opened them. "No, no, please don't go back. Don't close them again."
"Give her some space, she can't breathe." Stacy peeled the younger woman off her girlfriend, but Tegan elbowed Stacy in the ribs. She had not been aware of her actions and when she thought of them, she knew she owed the older woman an apology, yet it felt too hard to do it.
Stacy returned with salt in her palms, forcing it into Sara's lips, making her eyelids flutter and her brow crease in annoyance. With another spray of cologne Sara was waking up again and Tegan watched with streaming tears.
Sara did not close her eyes again but moaned and whined while lying there. Stacy asked what hurt her and Sara mumbled her head and her stomach.
"I'll take you to the hospital," Stacy said.
"No," Sara mumbled. "I wanna sleep."
"You have to get checked."
Sara didn't object after that.
In the car Sara closed her eyes again and Tegan did not stop crying. Ella had been too shocked to say anything. She watched the scene carefully without much action and with almost no expression. Her mother noticed the stolidity her daughter had conveyed. Stacy didn't know whether it was out of fear or sudden shock or the fact she'd been exposed to terrible images that made her emotions freeze and wither.
When the doctors and nurses took Sara inside, Tegan begged for Stacy to go in. Stacy knew it was only because she was a nurse and Tegan wanted to know what was really wrong with Sara, but Stacy's working hours were over and she was not supposed to be inside. She tried nonetheless, and she failed. She sat on one of the chairs, hugged her daughter and explained the situation to her as delicately as possible. Tegan stood behind the door, waiting for the scent of any doctor to chase and attack with questions.
"Tegum, Tegum," the soft voice and the gentle tugging at the woman's black shirt dispatched Tegan's thoughts and took her back to reality. Tegan looked down at Ella's fresh face. She held a green apple in one hand and a half eaten one in the other. "Mummy says eat this."
"Thank you," Tegan mumbled. Just then she noticed her cracked voice. She wiped her tears and sat on the sofa again. Ella sat next to her, handing her the apple. "Where is your mom?"
"Bathroom." Ella took a bite of her apple. Her little legs were swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth—slowly putting Tegan to sleep. "Sasa will be fine," Ella said, arousing Tegan's mind again. "She's just sleepy because mummy talks so much and talked so much at the park today and made her sleepy."
Tegan couldn't even think twice before laughing. She threw her head back, sweet laughter eased out of her lips. She felt few tears squeeze themselves out of her closed lids as she laughed. She sighed after, hugging Ella and kissing her head. No wonder Sara wanted kids, she thought. Sara was surrounded by Ella, and whoever was with Ella wanted to have someone like her around. Tegan wouldn't mind having her own Ella to make her feel better in critical times. She wondered if all kids were like Ella: funny, sweet, caring, quiet, innocent, and smart. When Tegan overheard Stacy telling Sara that the only person she's doing everything for was Ella, Tegan didn't believe her. Stacy talked about Ella making her days better; about how happy she felt when Ella was happy and how anguished she felt when Ella had a bad day. "She's the only one I can think of, I don't have time for a lover, especially not a man who demands attention more than a little child. My entire attention is centered on her and on making her happy. If she's not happy, I am not happy; if she is happy, I am the happiest," Stacy had said.
"I understand. I know what you mean," that was Sara's answer, which Tegan doubted because Sara ran after her own happiness like a lion running after its prey.
"Tegum?" Ella asked again. Tegan had started eating her apple.
"Yes?"
"When are you going to marry Sasa?"
Tegan swallowed the bite and thought for a moment. How would she marry her if she was sick and in the hospital? The tears rushed past her eyes again. "I don't know," she whispered.
"But you have to. You have to know because you're going to have a baby. I want the baby," Ella demanded with a scowl.
It seemed that everyone was waiting for that baby. To her, she felt that her womb was a piece of art in a gallery and everyone was admiring it from a distance. Everyone chanted: baby, baby, baby. Nobody saw the misery behind this painting they were all looking at. Everyone wanted something she did not want to give, or did not feel ready to give. She didn't tell them no, however, because she was a pleaser and she pleased everyone but herself. She was Stacy and everyone was Ella.
"But how can mummies have babies inside their tummies, Tegum? Tell me, how do you put a baby in there?" Ella asked, patting Tegan's stomach.
"Tegan?" Stacy rushed in, and Tegan had never been this thankful for that and would never be again. She wanted for anything to interrupt the interaction. Maybe having a little Ella was not so fun. Maybe it was the responsibility of a woman Stacy's age and not hers. She was so young.
"Yes?"
"The doctor wants to speak to you."
Tegan stood at once, following Stacy out of the room. A doctor and a nurse were standing in the hallway, looking at what seemed to be Sara's tests results. Tegan was prepared to hear the unfortunate news: it's back. It's back and it's thriving inside her body, Tegan thought.
"Ms. Rain." The doctor nodded. "We were just talking to Stacy to inform her about Ms. Clement's situation but she told us you are her partner."
"I am." Tegan swallowed.
"You do know about her health situation; her history with cancer?"
"I do." Tegan was losing her patience. Her tears were there on the verge of eruption.
"She's been taking a lot of medication lately and it seems to us she's been into severe pressure. Nothing seems too concerning but we're running few more tests. It seems to be a case of stress or an allergic reaction to one of her drugs. Has she been doing her monthly checkups and blood tests?"
"Yes. Last one was done two weeks ago and she tested fine. Nothing out of the ordinary." Tegan looked at Stacy, who listened without saying much.
"Is there anything in particular upsetting her? Anything she's been complaining about?"
"Migraines," Tegan said. "She gets these a lot."
"That's normal. Some of her medications have that side effect," Stacy added. "But she's been a bit stressed out."
"Yes…uh, she's been a bit…" Tegan faltered. She didn't sense any sense of abnormality, pressure, or anxiousness on Sara. She was fine…till few hours ago.
"Alright. She will spend the night here so we can run more tests. Meanwhile we want the names of all her medications. We want to figure out if anything has been affecting her lately because her blood pressure is rather lower than the expected rate."
"Is this too alarming?" Tegan asked.
"Hopefully it is not. It seems to be lack of nutrition or sleep, but just in case it's an allergic reaction to her medicines we want to be careful and run some more tests."
"Thank you," Tegan had mumbled before the doctor walked away.
"Do you feel a bit better now?" Stacy asked, too sweetly for Tegan's liking. It was too sweet that it hit Tegan sourly.
"Uh…yes, but…" It was probably literature that made her turn into this melodramatic person. She was not like that before getting too engaged in the vast spectrum of poetry, fiction, and drama. She did not overthink, she did not worry as much, words did not have too much meanings, actions did not hide metaphorical future chaos; life was simple or sad, nothing lost in between. Her life felt like a weird poem right now and she didn't like how literature played such a role, and made her look at things too closely and from each angle.
"But? Tegan, Sara is a lot like you. Do you know how much she used to faint when she was a teenager? Literally everywhere, even during sex."
Tegan stared at Stacy blankly. Tegan knew why Stacy said the last phrase. Stacy was evil, Tegan knew it. She wanted to deliver the information that she and Sara had had sex, as if Tegan wasn't aware of that disastrous fact.
Stacy sighed. "I'm trying to break the ice," she said. "I'm trying, Tegan, and you're not giving me a chance."
"Is this really a perfect time for this?" Tegan questioned.
"If now isn't perfect, when is it then?"
Tegan didn't know how to answer that. Maybe Stacy was right, but that was the only thing she was right about.
"Why do you hate me so much? What did I do?"
"I don't hate you," Tegan said, and that was not a lie.
"Then why are you like that with me?"
"I don't know. It's how I am."
"Can we sit?" Stacy asked. "We need to talk, please."
Another talk where Stacy bragged about her unconditional love for Sara and how much she cared about her? Another stupid conversation where Stacy tried to prove her perspective and how she saw things? Another one of those one on one where Tegan lost her mind more, and over thought her life and Sara's more? No, that was not going to happen.
"Okay," however that's how she answered.
"Coffee in the cafeteria? Let Sara sleep."
"The fact you speak as if you care more about Sara than I do is one," Tegan said. She could only hold so many things in, and everything was getting on her nerves.
Stacy looked back at Tegan. She pulled her lips to the side with a pout and nodded. "I'll just get Ella," she said and walked to the room. Tegan followed; made sure Sara was still asleep and left with Stacy and her daughter.
Tegan asked herself what made Stacy seem so monstrous. Stacy never did something that hurt her or Sara. Sure, she talked and chattered irritatingly and more than necessary. Sometimes she made Sara feel terrible about herself, but that was not intentional according to Sara. However, Tegan was sure when Stacy sat in front of her that day and threatened she would scratch her face, it was as intentional as it could be. And why did Stacy care to make their interaction better? Why couldn't they leave each other alone? Maybe, Stacy would say, if they got along it would be better for Sara, Tegan thought. But Tegan hated how Stacy acted that she knew Sara better than her. She couldn't deny the truth of that, but she hated it because Sara was hers and not Stacy's.
Ella climbed up on her mother's lap in the empty cafeteria. The only people there besides them were a couple and an old lady. The woman was clearly waiting to deliver her child. She was wearing a robe over her hospital gown and she looked terrified, or that's what Tegan noticed. The old lady was either her mother or her mother in law. The husband (or boyfriend) was comforting the pregnant lady; rubbing her back and whispering things to her ear. Ella placed her legs around her mother's waist and Stacy winced. Ella looked back at Tegan, put her thumb in her mouth and quickly thrust her head on her mother's chest. Stacy almost shrieked. She pushed her confused daughter slightly, sighed, and rubbed her right breast. Ella placed her head against her mother's chest once again then closed her eyes. Tegan wished she could do the same, she wished she could just suck her thumb, place her head on Sara's chest or a pillow or anything warm and soft, and close her eyes. She just wanted to sleep and have some serenity of mind.
"This is what having a kid is like," Stacy mumbled. "Are you ready for that?"
That was a trick question, Tegan thought. If she said no, Stacy would attack; and if she said yes, Stacy would prove her wrong. She couldn't win because Stacy was good with words, even if she wasn't good with actions.
"Fine, don't answer." Stacy sipped her coffee. "I don't hate you. In fact, I like you. I like that you're great with my daughter and you're funny and capable of taking care of yourself. I admire that."
"I'm not trying to get your approval here. It really doesn't matter to me whether you like me or not. I don't even know why it matters to you that I do."
"Because I am the kind of person who looks for normalcy in everything. I want to live a normal, simple life where nothing is wrong, no hatred is around, and no grudge held. I moved here because I wanted to start over with the world and with people around me and I want that to happen between you and me, too."
Tegan sighed. She, too, sipped the coffee that Stacy had bought her. Ella was not asleep because her lips were moving and sucking. It was an adorable scene.
"What did I do to make you so cold towards me? I want to know," Stacy said. The way the older woman pleaded for attention seemed desperate to Tegan. That was a weakness point. Stacy wanted something Tegan could give her but she didn't want to. Stacy wasn't as strong as Tegan thought she was.
"First impressions stay with me. Your first impression was your kind threat that if I didn't make a baby with Sara, you'd scratch my face. Second impression was you not letting me see her. You still do believe I will cheat on her and I will betray the trust she gave me. You still plant the thoughts of me being a deceiving bitch in her head. And you definitely like, or liked, to manipulate her thoughts that she thinks crying is a crime and tears are stupid. I am twenty-two, but I'm not as naïve as Sara sees me. I choose when to appear naïve and powerless and when to stop that."
Perhaps the last bit was not true, but Tegan wanted to scare Stacy with her words the way Stacy had once done. Two years later and Tegan was finally able to trick people with her verbal communication. For a moment, a tiny thought popped in her head: I'm not different from Stacy, am I? However, she shook the thought away and watched Stacy closely; gazed at the hesitancy and reluctance in her features. She waited for the answers and knew Stacy didn't have strong ones, and if she did, they might not make sense to Tegan.
"I honestly don't know what to tell you." Stacy chuckled. She looked at her child attempting to fall asleep then looked back at Tegan. "I guess…"
"I don't need explanations. There's this thing that we both can't avoid and it's a barrier and I don't think we can break it. It's not a matter of hate and love; it's a matter of…" Tegan thought of it but the word did not come up easily. "It's a matter of…"
"Jealousy," Stacy said. Tegan opened her mouth to object, but as soon as the word hit her head, the meaning engulfed every other thought. Yes, it was jealousy.
"Yeah," Tegan whispered and took a sip of her coffee.
Stacy searched for the pack of cigarettes in her purse. She knew it was going to be a long night. She needed something to calm her down. She found it, the sweet poison. If Sara knew she was smoking in front of her kid and in front of Tegan, she would kill her.
"We're in a hospital," Tegan said. "Are you serious?"
"I can't take it." Stacy put the white stick in her mouth. "My head is killing me." She lit up the butt of the cigarette and puffed a whiff of smoke.
"What about your daughter?"
"You don't want to see me break down, trust me." Stacy chuckled. Her hands were shaking, her eyes were fluttering, and her lips were trembling.
"Jealousy," Tegan said. "What about it?"
"You tell me."
"You said it first. You feel jealous of me?"
"I do…or did. I did, mostly. I did not mean to threaten you, to be quite honest. Sara was not alright back then and I knew it. She refused to go to the doctor. I thought that you spending time with her was just…some fantasy; some teenage student/professor fantasy. I am…possessive, I guess. I just didn't want to see the pain coming. I got used to her crying over those who left but I was always there—loving, waiting, wanting. She never saw it."
"So you were jealous," Tegan stated.
"A part of me was jealous, the other part was worried."
"You're not her guardian."
"Put yourself in my shoes," Stacy said, puffing more smoke. "Seriously, do."
Tegan closed her eyes for a mere second then opened them. She tried to imagine she was Stacy: abusive husband, getting a divorce, loved one happily fucking her lover on the couch outside the bedroom, single mother, loved one always hurts herself and let them step all over her. Tegan's defensive instinct activated itself. Her eyes grew wider and the color grew softer, almost transparent.
"Okay," Tegan said abashedly.
"I was jealous. At that time I couldn't voice my love for her. When I did, the nagging tick in my brain stopped. I do feel jealous; I'm not going to lie to you. But do I want to date her and be with her? Oh, God, no. No, no, no." Stacy turned off her cigarette and sipped her coffee.
"Why not?" Tegan was curious.
Stacy took a moment to ponder the question in her head. "Well," she said, "like I said, dating or being with someone is the last thing I care about. I have a daughter that wants my attention. I don't have the emotional or the mental ability to start new things with someone, anyone. After…" Stacy paused, looked at her sleeping daughter then said in a whisper, "After the continuous abuse I feel that my body can't take much…physical contact. I don't know. I'm hoping it's temporary but whenever I think of relationships I think of prison, of blood, of sickness. I think of something tying me up, taking away what I have. I don't want someone to take away what's left of me. Having to look at my body each day reminds me that a lot has been taken from me and I allowed it and shut up about it. I don't want that. I know…I know people are not all the same, but I…I can't let it happen, not even for fun, especially not for fun."
Stacy had the tendency of speaking continuously without intervals. Even when she was talking about something serious, she did not take a break or pause. This time, Tegan listened to every little word. Tegan didn't know what to say and how to say it. These things the older woman talked about seemed beyond her comprehension—abuse, prison, divorce, lack of freedom. Even if she related to something, it wouldn't be to the same extent Stacy must had felt it.
"I'm jealous of you, too," Tegan decided to say.
"Of me?" Stacy chuckled softly.
"What's so funny about it?"
"Why would you be jealous of me?"
"You are her best friend. You know everything about her. She trusts you and loves you and appreciates you. You are her…everything. You know her more than anybody else and you know her thoughts, you can predict her actions, you are always on her mind."
"And you're always on her mind, too," Stacy said. "We were born and raised together, what do you expect? The difference between our birthdays is two weeks. We've been always attached at the hip. But that does not mean I own something you don't own. Yes, we have our own special memories, but you and her do, too. Every group of people does, too. The way you have your special memories or moments with the friends she's so jealous of."
Tegan laughed. "Jealousy steers the ship, doesn't it?"
"It's human nature." Stacy kissed her daughter's head. "Sometimes I do say things that make her upset. I don't know why I say them. I am harsh with her at times. Today is an example. I was harsh to her in the park. I said things I didn't mean and then I was like why the hell did I say that? I don't know why I do that."
"The same reason you do most things, we just said it."
"No, this can't be jealousy." Stacy shook her head. "It's beyond that. Because I don't only do it with her, I do it with my mother, too. And with friends. I like to…to push when I'm pushed just to let it out and then I regret it. I attack and I…I use my tongue more than I use my brain."
Tegan nodded. She didn't know what else to say.
"I should go grab something for Ella to wear and get her bottle, too," Stacy continued. "She'll wake up soon and throw a fit."
"You don't have to stay here. I'm here with Sara."
"No, I'm gonna stay here, too." Stacy tried to stand up, but couldn't because of the heaviness of her daughter's mass. "I'll get her clothes, too. She hates staying in hospital gowns."
"Oh, yes, can you please get me my drugs? Everything is in the yellow drug box in the bathroom." Tegan walked to Stacy, helping her with Ella. The child whimpered and moaned in her sleep. "Shhh." Tegan rocked her slowly, but Ella was a bit too heavy to be carried and rocked this way.
"Yes, of course. I have to get Sara's, too."
Tegan walked to Sara's room again. Ella woke up right after her mother had left. Tegan was in the waiting room when Ella woke up. The little girl searched around her for a familiar face and almost shrieked when she realized the unfamiliar atmosphere. Tegan turned her around and faced her instantly, shushing her and rocking her gently. "Shh, El. Look at me, baby. Here I am. I'm Tegan, look at me."
Ella's tears stopped as she wiped her eyes with two fists and dropped her head harshly on Tegan's chest. Tegan jumped, pushing Ella farther away from her aching breast. "Holy shit," Tegan mouthed. "That hurts, baby." Stacy's right, she thought.
Ella pouted her lips again and gazed at both sides. She saw no one but uninteresting silence and emptiness in long hallways. Nothing felt familiar. The chairs were dark green, she hated that color; it reminded her of Christmas. She hated Christmas because her mummy was crying all through it; and the one before, Sara was crying and she had no hair. She looked at the dull creamy walls and the closed yellow doors. She felt cold and scared. Her mummy was nowhere in sight, and Tegan was angry at her because she had hurt her without intending to.
Ella felt her tears rushing out of her eyes again. She wanted her small apartment and the bed she shared with her mother and the warmth of the milk her mother prepared for her. She wanted a big, sweet hug and familiar faces that she loved.
"Aww, Ella," Tegan said. "Look at me, baby. Please, look at me. I'm sorry, sweetie." Ella looked at Tegan, who looked so beautiful with her new hair. Ella wanted to touch it but she didn't because she didn't want to upset the older woman.
"Mummy?" Ella asked, hoping Tegan would give her a clear and a quick answer.
"She went home to get you some stuff. She'll be right back."
Ella frowned. She wanted to hide her face in Tegan's warm chest and close her eyes once again. She hated bright lights and hated strange faces and unusual rooms. Tegan didn't want that, though, so she wasn't going to do it again.
"Sasa?" she tried again, remembering Sara's eerie situation. Her mother told her Sara would be alright, and she believed her.
"She's asleep in the room. Want to go there?" Ella nodded. Tegan held her little hand and they both walked together to Sara's room. The lights were not as bright in there because Sara was still asleep. Ella looked up at Tegan, who was staring at Sara blankly. At that moment, Ella did not care that Tegan didn't want her hugs, she hugged her legs anyway.
Tegan sat on the sofa and placed Ella on her lap. Ella disliked seeing Tegan's solicitous features—restless, careworn, and despondent. She wanted to make her feel better but she didn't know how. She felt sleepy and tired, too. Tegan hugged her then. Ella smiled and wrapped both arms and both legs around Tegan, who kissed her forehead twice. Ella closed her eyes for a second then opened them up again, remembering what she wanted.
"Milk," she chirped. "Please, Tegum, milk."
"I don't have any," Tegan said. That's what she feared; Ella waking up and demanding what she consumed each night.
"Ask someone, please, Tegum, please."
"El," Tegan sighed. The hardest part was about to start. "You're a big girl like me, right?"
"No," Ella said. "I'm little. I'm four." Ella held five fingers, showing them to Tegan. Realizing they were five, she put her pinky down, blushing slightly.
"Four is big," Tegan tried again. "You can sleep without milk like Sara, mummy, and I."
"No," Ella shook her head. "I can't."
"Yes, you can. Give it a try."
"No," Ella said louder. "No," she repeated.
"But the milk fairy needs the bottles to take them to new babies who don't have teeth."
"No," Ella said. "Babies have boobie milk." Tegan chuckled.
"Who told you that?" Tegan said.
"Sasa and mummy."
"But not all babies have a mummy. Some babies have only a daddy or two daddies and they need the bottles. You can drink milk in a cup and I will get you a cute tiger cup."
"Oh." Ella paused, thinking and pondering what Tegan said in her head. "We…well, I…" Ella rolled her eyes in the most comic way Tegan had witnessed. "I guess they can have my bottles because they don't have teeth and they can't have boobie milk or eat gummy bears."
"That's right." Tegan squeezed the little adorable child gently and kissed her head. "You're so cute, I love you."
Ella giggled. "I love you, too."
As the fog cleared, the noise became louder. The unstoppable melody was so familiar, yet Sara's half conscious state couldn't discover where she had heard it before. However, she knew the other melody drumming inside her body was the raucous beating of her heart. It was too loud, too harsh, too shrill—she could feel it. She blinked—once, twice, thrice—the fog was completely gone. Ha…that was the sound, the vexing sound she despised so much. She knew it, she was in that place.
If she was in that place, it meant she was sick; but since she felt it, it meant she was alive and breathing…till now. Was she missing a leg or an arm or a kidney? She couldn't recall anything until she blinked again and felt the pounding in her head, the acute ache in her skull. It felt like someone was doing some construction in the left side.
She closed her eyes again, but then she saw what had happened as if it was a quick flashback striking her mind like lightning. She felt and heard soft, sneaky movements next to her. She opened her eyes at once, facing her best friend's concerned ones.
"Sara?" Stacy whispered. "Are you okay?"
Sara did not answer. She looked at the place she was in and looked at her left: Tegan was asleep on the sofa; Ella was asleep in her arms. Sara looked at Stacy again. Stacy smiled.
"I went to get you some clothes and came back finding them asleep. I covered them with my coat. They seemed cold."
"What happened?" Sara asked. Her throat was so dry, which reminded her of her full bladder.
"You fainted."
"Oh, yes. I remember."
The voices woke Tegan up. She was never a heavy sleeper. However, she did not open her eyes. She listened with her eyes closed, wanted to know if anything was hidden from her; if Sara was concealing a health issue.
"You're alright. Don't worry. Did you eat anything yesterday or today?"
"I don't know. I don't…I mean, yes…but."
"Sara." Stacy sighed. "You're so stressed out. Why is that?"
"I don't know." Sara's voice was so quiet, but Tegan heard it well. "Everything is so overwhelming. I'm just so worried things would go wrong. I'm so excited and so anxious at the same time."
Stacy put the black duffel bag on the mattress. She unzipped it and took Sara's pajamas out. "Everything will be alright," she said. "You just need to take care of yourself, please."
"You got me clothes?" Sara asked.
"Yes, and undergarments." Stacy held up light orange panties.
"That's Tegan's." Sara chuckled. Tegan's eyes fluttered, she wanted to open them and find out what the two women were talking about.
"Oh," Stacy said. Tegan stealthily opened her eyes. Stacy was blushing.
"We share the drawers now," Sara commented.
"Explains the huge amount of boxer briefs. I thought you're back wearing them."
"They were so comfortable." Sara yawned. She felt so haggard. Stacy put the black bra down on the mattress as well. "That's Tegan's, too."
"That's Tegan's?" Stacy raised an eyebrow, staring at the cups. "She has nothing." Tegan felt offended.
"Shut up," Sara said. "As if you do." Tegan wanted to laugh. It was time to get up. "She lost her breasts with losing weight."
"I only know you're fine when you casually talk about my breasts," Tegan said, hugging Sara, making her jump. Tegan kissed Sara's temple four times and started crying. "You scared me. You were so pale and your lips were so white and you were so cold. You scared me."
"Where did you come from?" Sara laughed and held her lover closely. "Aww, love. I didn't mean to." Sara kissed Tegan's forehead. "I'm alright. Just a bit tired."
"Hope Ella didn't give you a hard time. Did she ever wake up or is she still asleep since I left?" Tegan sat up, her face was flushed, her hand held Sara's cold one. She sat on the edge of the mattress and gazed at Stacy's careful eyes.
"She woke up and was a bit scared. She wanted her bottle but I think she won't need that anymore."
"How?" Sara and Stacy asked at the same time.
"I told her the milk fairies want the bottles to give them to the new babies, she told me babies have boobie milk." Tegan laughed.
"Oh, I told her that when Stacy wanted to wean her," Sara said.
"Yes, so I told her that some people don't have mothers, and I will get her a tiger cup."
"I think the tiger cup won her over, especially coming from you," Stacy said.
"I still have a rival," Sara said. Her bladder was reminding her that it was losing its patience.
"What's my underwear doing here?" Tegan asked, as if she hadn't heard the conversation.
"Oh, I…" red-faced Stacy commenced, "I picked these by mistake. My bad."
"Hmm," Tegan hummed, enjoying making Stacy embarrassed. It always felt satisfying to make the older woman uncomfortable.
"I really have to pee. But I feel like I can't stand or support myself."
Tegan took an attentive look at her lover, who looked immensely fragile and pale. Tegan helped the professor sit up, but Sara held her head and sat down once again. "Should I get the doctor?" Tegan asked, petrified and scared.
"I'm just so dizzy."
"It's okay. You're just very tired," Stacy remarked. "We can help you to the bathroom."
"I'll go in with you," Tegan said.
Sara required care and help from both women. She felt herself as weak and powerless as those days she had been ill. She wanted to sob right there and declare her surrender, but she was promised by everyone—including the doctor who came to check up on her later—that it was merely a case of stress and lack of nutrition. Sara was presented a meal, which she had to eat despite her absence of appetite.
Stacy slept on the sofa next to her daughter and Tegan squeezed herself on the hospital bed next to Sara, who held her tightly because her body was colder than Tegan's for the first time. Sara fell asleep in a matter of seconds, while Tegan couldn't close an eye till dawn.
Stacy couldn't sleep well, too. Even though it had been a week, her stitched side still ached terribly when she lay down in an uncomfortable position. She was the first to get up in the morning. She stretched and went to the bathroom. She lifted up her dress and examined the bruised skin. Nothing was too alarming. She swallowed pain medication and went down to grab coffee before her daughter woke up and threw a tantrum upon not finding her there. She didn't have to work in the hospital on Sundays, yet she had spent her weekend there, too. Some patients greeted her and she smiled at them. The doctor who had been hitting on her since she started working there grinned when he saw her. She felt embarrassed and bothered. She didn't like him at all, in fact she felt that his persistence was a turn off, yet she felt too coy to show herself with her naked face lacking any type of makeup and her hair disheveled and unkempt.
When she returned to the room, she found Sara and Tegan with blank, stunned faces staring at what seemed to be the biggest invisible dilemma. Smirking trepidation struck the blonde. She took slow paces to the bed. She didn't want to sit there and join them; she wanted the news to hit her as well so she could join their pensive stares. She also apprehended asking. What if? She thought.
Ella hugged her legs out of nowhere, making her jump, almost spilling her coffee. She screeched, making both dazed women look at her with the same astounded expression. What's wrong? She asked herself. Tell me, she thought. Goddamn it, say it already.
"When did she wake up?" she asked instead.
"When the doctor came," Sara responded. Her eyes were dilated in the most frightening type of exposure.
"Oh, uh…" Stacy commenced, "is everything okay?"
"Mummy," Ella chanted, "I'm hungry."
"Umm..." Sara blushed. "It turns out that I…"
"She OD'd on HRT," Tegan said. She scowled at her lover.
"It wasn't on purpose," Sara said.
"I'm pretty sure it was," Tegan said.
"How did you do that?" Stacy asked inquisitively. She sat down on the mattress. She wanted to laugh, but it was not fair for the two women. Sara seemed like the kind of person who would overdose on Hormone Replacement Therapy pills just to have as much sex as she could. Stacy knew Sara had done it on purpose.
"Tell her," Tegan said. She stood up, put her hands against her hips and continued, "I want to know as well. Your lie to the doctor is very unbelievable. You don't just forget your dose. You're not that stupid. Why did you do it? God, this could have been more serious than this. You're so irresponsible sometimes. God, Sara, you're going to make me lose my mind one day soon." Even though Tegan was right, Stacy was dying to let the suppressed laughter out. Ella was staring at Tegan with bewildered wide blue eyes, and Sara seemed terrified of the sudden burst.
"Don't yell at me," Sara whispered, lowering her head. "I really forgot my dose on Friday. I took two pills instead of one and, you know, it led to…" Sara looked at Stacy from the periphery of her vision. "We had, umm, good, umm, sex, and yesterday I realized that it was good and I should take two pills instead of one so I took two pills in the morning and two in the evening. I used to take two pills until I was told to take a lower dose. I didn't think it was going to cause this, I just wanted good sex, okay?"
"Okay," Ella responded in spite of her mystification and ignorance.
Even though the situation was funny, it was still serious and Stacy felt bad she wanted to laugh. "I don't think my daughter should hear this," she mumbled.
Tegan sighed. She sat down again and pushed her hair back with her hand. Stacy noticed the strange haircut; she wondered why Tegan would get her hair cut like this. She wondered if Sara liked it.
"You know what, I should just get the vaginal things that they stick inside the vagina to get it wet. Like, these pills aren't doing anything and I have to stop them because I have an allergic reaction. The vagina stuff are probably much better, whatever."
"Vagina?" Ella asked. "What is vagina?"
"Okay, hey, stop," Stacy told her friend. "Seriously."
"Oh, my God. Don't tell me she doesn't know what's a firkin vagina? What does she call it? It's where you pee from, El."
"It's not where you pee from, it's the hole..." Tegan cut herself off and pressed her lips together when Stacy glared at her. "Sorry," she mouthed.
"We have other names, okay?" Stacy said, sounding like a kid competing with two other kids. "Censored names."
"It's not like I said cunt," Sara said. "What are the names, though? Teach us."
"Vajayjay?" Tegan wondered. "Eww, I hate this word."
"It's so disgusting, right?" Sara added.
"You're gonna be amazing parents," Stacy mumbled, standing up. Her baffled daughter was trying to understand every foreign word she was hearing, but her mother was a block that stood in the way.
"We will," Sara said.
"Emy says she's coming to visit you," Tegan announced. Stacy looked back at Tegan, who held her phone in her hand. "Is she welcome or?" Tegan bit her lower lip. When she received the text message she had to read it twice. She asked herself many times why but according to Emy the night before, the friend sought the start of a clean slate, and she really appeared to desire it.
"Oh, Emy?" Sara said. "Sure, I mean…that's nice of her." Sara looked at her friend, who had her left eyebrow raised. Sara thought it was quaint, but having heard more about Emy from Tegan, she wanted Tegan to try that friendship again. It was only fair since her best friend was in love with her and Tegan did not interfere in their friendship anymore. "She shouldn't see me in this awful pajama, though. I don't want her to see her professor looking like a peasant. Fetch me my shirt and bra, please." Sara unbuttoned her pajama shirt quickly, revealing her naked chest.
"Sara," Stacy said loudly, "for God's sake, there's a kid."
The irrational, careless action confused and angered Tegan as well, though for a different reason.
"They're just tits. Chill." Sara began dressing herself without any bashfulness.
While Stacy turned herself and her daughter around, Tegan resumed her scowls and glares while giving Sara items of clothes to wear. She had pretended to forget about the HRT issue, but she was waiting for the right time when Stacy was not present to discuss it quietly with Sara. But now she needed to discuss another thing that bothered her so much: Sara casually getting naked in front of her friend as if it's not a big deal.
Tegan's mother called so she had to leave the room in order to talk to her. Since Tegan wasn't used to lying (especially that she never succeeded at it) she told her mother what happened in brief. Her mother did not say much, which was the customary response whenever they spoke about Sara. If she judged, her daughter would be upset; if she gave support, it would be hypocrisy. She remained silent and that was the best for herself and Tegan. However, when she and her husband spoke, they criticized and judged freely, simply because Tegan was not in the same room. Both of them considered the relationship a form of oppression to their child.
Stacy was gone when Tegan went back to the room. "She went to get me some stuff from the apartment since I have to stay here another night," Sara explained. "I'm gonna miss classes. I'm fine now. I was tired but I'm fine."
"Classes can wait," Tegan said coldly. She sat on the sofa and played a stupid word game that she hated on her phone.
"What's wrong with you?" Sara asked but Tegan didn't answer. "Again? Everything is silent with you? I have to guess everything? I can't guess if you don't tell me."
Tegan put her phone down and huffed. "Why did you do that? Why do you make me feel like I'm miserable with you because we don't fuck every day? Guess what, my body can't tolerate sex each day, too."
"It's not about you," Sara said with gritted teeth. "It's so not fucking about you, Tegan. It's about how I feel. How sex feels for me. How my body feels. I want to feel it and enjoy it, too. It's my fucking right."
"Nobody said it's not," Tegan said with a soft voice. She hadn't thought of that at all but that wasn't surprising to her, she knew she was selfish sometimes. She couldn't feel what Sara felt. That missing piece stood in their way; the lack of something; the flaw in their communication. She dated a woman who was experiencing different things, things most women her age did not usually experience. She couldn't comprehend it easily, she always forgot about it.
Tegan walked to Sara's mattress again. Sara had started crying. "It's your absolute right, but hurting yourself is not the solution."
"Tell me what the solution is then?" Sara was embraced by her lover, kissed and caressed and comforted with soft hushes.
"I wish I can give you one. I wish I can feel your pain."
"You don't want to." Sara felt kisses on her head. "I just want to feel normal sometimes."
"You should give it time. Everyone says you should give it time. Plus, isn't lube available?"
"Yes," Sara rubbed her eyes and looked at Tegan. "It does help, but…"
"But?"
"I don't know. I just wanna be this horny Sara again." She wanted so much and sometimes she felt ungrateful. Other women wished to be in her place, yet she was crying because her sex life was not perfect. But other times, she felt that she deserved to have the things she wanted, the joy she coveted.
"I don't think being horny Sara will help much when we have a kid because you'll have to resort to your hands…if you found time." Sara giggled, wiping more tears. Sometimes she felt stupid, and that was one of those times. "Emy can come any minute now," Tegan warned. Sara certainly didn't want to seem like she had cried. Tegan showered her face with more kisses, so the professor captured her lips in a long passionate kiss. "Don't ever scare me again," Tegan whispered.
"I won't." Sara kissed the younger woman once again, enjoying the softness of her lips.
"And don't get naked in front of Stacy again because it bothers me." Tegan smiled and Sara nodded, biting her lower lip. "Alright?"
"Okay," Sara said.
Stacy and Ella walked behind a brunette holding a bouquet of red tulips. Ella sipped her chocolate milk while she held another one to give to Tegan. Stacy scanned the girl who was walking in the same direction they were going to.
Emy heard the slow steps behind her but she did not bother turn around. The steps had followed her since she entered the hospital, which was a bit strange. She did not look, however. She hoped she was not mistaken with the room. Tegan had given her the details so she didn't ask at the reception. She took a deep breath as she faced the closed door of the intended room. The steps disappeared. Emy jumped and the woman beside her did, too.
Stacy examined the big blue eyes as she touched the doorknob, ready to turn it. Emy knocked before Stacy could open.
"Come in," Tegan's voice rang in their ears.
"Mummy, who's this?" Ella said. "Who are you?" Ella tugged at Emy's jeans.
Emy hesitated as Stacy opened the door. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't pronounce any word as she saw her old professor in a hospital bed and her best friend/ ex- girlfriend sitting on the mattress next to the older woman.
"Hello, Emily," Sara said, with the same melodic voice she owned, same confidence, and same elegance even when she was ill.
"Hey, Dr. Clement," Emy stuttered. "How are you doing today?"
"Why are you blushing?" Sara asked, teasingly. Tegan almost rolled her eyes…almost, but she didn't. "I'm not your professor anymore; I'm Tegan's almost wife." Sara winked. The crimson hue increased on the sides of the visitor's face.
Ella and Stacy stood next to Sara, both looking up and down at Emily, both had the same blue eyes and sharp stares.
"Oh, yeah…here." Emy held up the bouquet, and Sara received it with a gasp. "I was told you loved this kind…umm, tulips." Tegan was smiling so Emy smiled, too.
"Oh, thank you. That's so nice of you." Sara smelled the flowers. "Stacy, look! Tulips."
"I know," Stacy said, smiling at Sara, but not at Emy.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Emily," Sara said.
"Thank you." Emy stood next to Tegan, which made her parallel to Stacy, who seemed exactly the way Tegan had described her: a loathsome nuisance.
"So that's Emy?" Stacy said. "I've heard a lot about you." Her scanning eyes were revolting, both Emy and her friend wanted to slap the older woman.
"Same," Emy answered shortly.
"So, how are you, Emy?" Sara caught the brunette's attention again, calling her the way everybody called her.
…
Tegan sighed as she pushed herself next to Sara in the hospital bed. They faced each other, none of them said anything. When both women left, the doctors ran more tests and Sara was not helping at all. Tegan discovered that Sara hated getting blood tested and gave every nurse a hard time until they found the right vein. After that, Sara was exhausted, and Tegan was, too. Jeremy called to check up on his friend and the woman she was with. Tegan told her lover but Sara did not seem impressed, unlike her reaction to Emy visiting.
"Stacy and Emy really don't like each other," Tegan commented.
"I've never seen such a reaction from Stacy unless she's very jealous," Sara said. "She can't be jealous of Emy because Emy never slept with me."
"Wow, your ego…wow." Tegan laughed.
"It's true."
"Yeah…Stacy was just…Stacy."
Sara held her lover's hand and squeezed it. She smiled mischievously then kissed the younger woman. A kiss after the other and their breaths began to heave and their chests began to rise. Sara sucked Tegan's lower lip then her tongue trailed down, sucking Tegan's neck.
"What are you doing?" Tegan whispered. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," Sara said. "I have to."
"No," Tegan said, but didn't do anything about it because Sara's kisses and touches were swaying her emotions and igniting her libido. Sara touched her hips and sucked beneath her collarbones. "We're in a hospital bed."
"So?" Sara said breathlessly. "I told you once that my mission is to fuck you everywhere possible. Kitchen counter, check; bathtub, check; floor, check; couch, check; office, check; hospital bed, almost check."
Tegan giggled when she felt Sara's hand cupping both breasts underneath her shirt. "You're a pervert…even when you're tired and sick."
"You have to be quiet, though." Sara lifted up the thin shirt and pinched the two hard nipples. Tegan moaned softly. "Good girl."
"What about the car? We haven't done it there." Tegan gasped when she felt Sara's wet tongue on one nipple.
"Soon," Sara said. She took both breasts in her hand, squeezed them together and put as much as she could in her mouth, making Tegan rock her body back and forth. Sara sucked and licked both breasts, then gently pulled each nipple with her teeth, eliciting a sharp hiss from Tegan each time.
"Holy shit." Tegan closed her eyes when she felt Sara's fingers in her underwear. "Office desk or table, too. It's my fantasy."
Sara moaned. "Oh, yes. Mine, too." Sara plunged two fingers in, not teasing, not waiting. "Soon, too."
"Against the wall?" Tegan asked. "No, no, only two," she said when Sara was about to push a third digit. "This position isn't so comfortable."
"Oh, you want me to stop?"
"No, I'm almost there."
With more kissing and fondling and touching, Tegan came. She sighed in content and wanted to return the favor.
"No," Sara said, smiling. "I'm as dry as Africa." Tegan sighed, detesting herself; detesting the fact she had enjoyed Sara touching her.
"I have something to give you. I think it's time, despite the place we're in. I, uh, I told Stacy to get it to me today. I really can't wait. You've been the rock I'm leaning on and I just want you to be officially mine." Sara sat up. Tegan lowered her shirt and looked at the older woman with curious eyes. Sara's hand crawled under the pillow. Tegan watched carefully. Sara switched on the lamp on the table beside the bed. Tegan swallowed as she eyed the small box that Sara held in her hand.
Sara opened it and it was what Tegan didn't want to see. It's not like she didn't predict it happening, she just didn't want it to happen or didn't imagine it happening. It was just strange; too movie-like; too fairy-tale-like—it was not her, not Tegan Rain.
Sara's hands were shaking, too. The ring was beautiful, Tegan couldn't deny it. It wasn't too big, but it was too womanly for Tegan, perhaps too feminine. Diamond felt too feminine.
"I hope it fits you. You have very skinny fingers." Sara laughed nervously. She held Tegan's right hand and exhaled. "Will you marry me for real, Tegan?"
"Yes," she whispered in spite of the fuming fear that swelled in her chest. The ring slipped in and it fit her perfectly. Sara kissed her knuckles then kissed her lips.
Sara lay down on the mattress again. She wanted to cry, but she didn't. She felt a fiery hole in her chest. She felt the unwillingness and indecisiveness. She couldn't stop pushing, though. Why? She asked herself. It's just how it is, she thought. It's just how I want it. Please, don't hate me. Please, don't think the worst of me. I'm sorry I'm putting you through this. I'm sorry I'm taking your youth away with me. I'm sorry I'm proposing in a hospital bed. She wished she could voice her thoughts, but Tegan's silence choked her. Doesn't it say so much about me? She looked at Tegan, who smiled sweetly as if the distress she felt did not exist.