storieswithlance-blog

[storieswithlance-blog]

Feel Bad for me I’m All Alone

           “Shit,” I mutter as I look down at the bubble that reads Where are you on my phone. I pick up my brisk walk into a light jog as I head down 3rd avenue, passing some pizza joint and the hospital across the street. I run down two more blocks and finally look up to see the large green wooden panel, lit up by the lights that seemingly grow out from the bar itself as the painted white Molly’s sign welcomes me. I cross over the city avenue and approach the green doors.

            I take in what has to be called packed for a bar even on a Friday night. I look to my left and see a large brown-haired woman holding open the door of the single-stall bathroom looking patronizingly at what must be her boyfriend, much smaller and skinnier than herself, puking profusely in the vicinity of the toilet. I can’t help but feel bad for the guy, having been there before, just knowing that he feels scared and alone.

            “Leo!” I hear a voice yell as I look around, trying to find her in this crazy bar, “Leo! Leo!” I feel a tug on the back of my coat and turn around and smile down at the redhead I’ve been looking for. She waves at me as if to say, “Come on!” grabbing my hand and pulling me down the bar.

            Maggie pulls me into a chair at a table pressed against the wall somewhat away from the countless people laughing and talking to each other. Black and white pictures and even a brown wooden wheel of a ship decorate the green paint above me. I look back at the table noticing an empty mug of beer near Maggie’s seat, and a full one at mine.

            “God it’s loud,” Maggie says, sitting down. “I’m glad we can at least hear each other back here.” Maggie places another beer in front of each of us. I have no idea how she got two more so quickly.

            “I like it,” I respond, taking a sip. Maggie just laughs at me. “What? I do,” I say trying to put more meaning into the words. “How’d the meeting for the promotion go?”

         “Yeah about that promotion,” she says, her face unreadable, “Let's just say that I’m going to be moving up a floor or two.”“You got it? That’s incredible! Congratulations!” Maggie smiles at me and takes another sip of her beer, relishing watching me freak out for her, “Maggie that’s awesome.” She looks back at me as my mind begins to realize how this changes our situation. “What does this mean for Claire?”

“Well,” Maggie says, looking unbothered at the question, “I’ll still be overseeing the wing that she’s in. I won’t be as hands-on but she’s still one of my patients.”  

“Who is going to take over for you?” I ask, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

“Dr. Brown, he’s one of our best,” Maggie says softer than she typically speaks, “she’ll be in great hands.”

“So, I won’t get to see you as often?” I ask sheepishly, looking down into my mug.

“I mean at the hospital probably not,” she says. I can’t stop myself from looking disappointed this time, and she notices. “Leo, I’m still going to be in the building. Just a little further away.”

“What about these nights? Do they just go away?” I say to Maggie, more anger in my voice than I intended. Maggie looks at me with a look as close to pity as you can get.

“No, no. Leo, I would never give up these nights with you.”

“I just mean the reason I can go on these nights out with you is that you’re her doctor, I tell everyone it’s strictly for Claire. How am I going to get out of the apartment now to come see you?”

            Maggie sighs and looks towards the bar, “It’s not like Claire is living with you now. And who gets drinks with their dying spouse's doctor? I don’t know, Leo—”

            “You don’t know? Don’t know what?” anger entering my voice now as if it was just waiting to come out this whole time.

“Leo, I can’t keep doing this without—”

            “Oh, so you don’t want to keep doing this I understand.”

“Leo, no. Listen, it’s just—”

“Just what?”

“I want to have sex with you.”

“Uhh—” is all I can muster as the color in my face changes from a deep pale to a glistening red.

“It’s just that,” Maggie says quickly, “It’s just that this is like our tenth time doing one of these meet up things or whatever you want to call it, and I feel like you really like me. I really like you too and I love heading to work because I know I’ll see you in your wife’s room, and no matter how fucked up that sounds I really like you, Leo. I just have to know that breaking all of these doctor codes and patient-doctor trusts wasn’t just to be a therapy session for you and an occasional kiss here or there. I need to know this is real Leo.”

“Maggie,” I say, trying to think of any response, “I really like you. Like a lot. Like a shit ton. I just—”

“Your wife,” she said with an upset look on her face.

“It’s just that, what kind of asshole am I, the guy that cheats on his dying cancer filled wife who is laying on her deathbed,” I respond back to her.

“I mean, look at me,” Maggie says, “I’m the doctor who’s involved with her dying cancer patients husband. I’m pretty sure that’s the first thing I learned in med school, ‘Don’t hook up with your patient's husband, that’s bad.’”

We both laugh. I looked into her eyes for a moment, the sadness clearing out of them the longer we hold our gaze. I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this. “Okay,” I said, “but it has to be at your place.”

She grabs my hand and leads me outside. The cab ride home is a large blur of lips and hair, but finally, we make it to her apartment building.

“Children are a blessing!” the cabby yells out the window, laughing to himself at his joke that took awhile for me to work out. We make it to the elevator and Maggie presses a button. We’re right back to it, as I press her body into the wall of the elevator kissing her neck. When the elevator doors open Maggie refuses to let go of me and grabs my hand leading me to her door. It takes a second for her to fit her key in the keyhole, but ultimately it slips in. I walk into the apartment, take my shoes and jacket off and look around. The place is filled with glass, steel and even a marble island countertop in her kitchen. Maggie turns back towards me. 

“Follow me,” is all she says, and I oblige. The bedroom is more of the same, a few marble counters, a steel bedside table next to her king-sized bed. Maggie looks at me. Reaching behind her back, she slowly starts to unzip her dress. As it falls away I feel a sense of heightened awareness; of the room, of the moment, but mostly of her. Her matching laced green bra and thong were walking towards me, and suddenly I’m pulled towards them. Maggie looks up at me, unbuttoning my shirt one button at a time, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. I grab the back of her hair as my palm rests on her left ear and lean in. As we embrace she starts to unbuckle my belt, reaching into my pants and grabbing the front of my boxers and stroking softly. Somethings wrong, I think to myself, but I can’t hear my thoughts over the green and red entanglement I’m in. 

We make it to the bed. We’re on top of her covers as each of our hands touch the clothing of the body part that the other hasn’t shown yet. I slowly pull her thong down, stroking her left leg as I do so. Goosebumps on her leg appear as she shivers in pleasure as she reaches out and grabs my neck, whispering in my ear, “I want you inside of me,” biting the bottom of my ear after the message has been received. She pulls my boxers down and begins to stroke the actual flesh now, and I move to go on top of her. You don’t want to do this, the voice says again, but it’s too late. Maggie lets out a moan at my first thrust, her face resembling someone wincing, but the claws in my back scream at me that the expression on her face is not pain. Her moans get louder and louder, and soon I find myself grunting and breathing heavily into her ear with each stroke. It all happens too fast, and I can’t stop it, but I pull out just in time. 

I roll over to the other side of the bed as Maggie reaches to her bedside table and grabs tissues, she gives two of them to me. We don’t speak for a long time. Eventually, she says how much fun she had and falls asleep. I guess I fell asleep too because the next thing I see is the sunlight coming through the bedroom window. Did that just happen? I ask myself as I look around the room. I can see the back of Maggie’s head lying on a pillow and just clothes scattered around the bedroom. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Fuckkk. That little voice that I thought I heard last night is screaming at me now. I feel cold, exposed, and most of all, dirty.

I get up and go to the bathroom. I wash my face and look up into the mirror, and see someone who resembles me. My body looks normal, my face is lined with barely kept facial hair, but it’s the eyes that I don’t recognize. They look lost. They are lost. 

I quickly put on all my clothes and head into the elevator. I make it to the lobby and walk outside. The sun hides behind the clouds like a useless coward who never gave a fuck about the earth anyway as I call down a cab to take me to the hospital. It’s a long cab ride, and I needed it to be longer. The people passing by seem so carefree, especially the ones that have dogs. I’ve never owned a dog. I always wanted to have one, I thought that it would mark when I thought I made it in the world. We were about to get one too, Claire and I had already gone down to the shelter a few times. That plan changed when Claire got sick. Everything changed when Claire got sick. 

I step out of the car and reach into my wallet and pull out whatever cash I have on me, “Keep the change,” I mutter as I walk up to the electronic doors of the hospital. 

I make my way past the front desk and look towards the elevator, as I see a line of people already waiting to head up to their loved ones. I head towards the stairwell and begin my ascent. Higher and higher I climb, not really knowing how much time the climb is taking. Eventually, I reach the floor and walk towards room 17. 

I enter, and see Claire’s face slowly turns towards me. She has a bandana over her bald head and looks awful, which is to be expected. She closes the book in her hands. The doctor says it’s incredible she can still read, and that normally at this stage—

I smile to myself. The doctor. 

“Hey Leo,” Claire says to me in a raspy voice, “what’s wrong?”

“You can tell that something’s wrong?” I ask her smiling.

“I can always tell with you. What’s up?” she coughs. I run over to pass her the glass of water next to her bed and hand it to her. She takes a long sip and hands it back. “Thank you. What’s wrong?”

“Claire I just came in. How are you feeling?” I say grabbing her arm.

“Leo,” she says giving me a stern look. “What happened?

I take a deep breath. “Well, I did something I shouldn’t have done last night.”

“Who was it with?’ Claire asked softly. “Dr. Raymond?”

I’m in shock, “How, How, Claire, How do you—”

“Leo,” Claire sighs, “I may be dying, but I’m not dead. Ever since she started helping me I could tell you liked her, and frankly, I could tell she liked you. It was pretty obvious you were into each other.” Claire started coughing again, but it took one big deep wheeze for me to reach out and grab the water again. 

Claire passed the water back and looked straight ahead, almost as if she could see something and I couldn’t. 

“Claire, uh, you,” I hesitated.

“Don’t seem mad?” she said, still looking ahead. 

“Well, yes,” I said back to her. 

“Honestly Leo, I’m dying. I’ve been dying for a while now, and I understand it’s hard on you too. Did I ever think that you would cheat on me while I was sitting here dying? No. Frankly, I wish I could be more upset. You know what I actually feel though Leo?” she looks back towards me. “Pity. I feel pity for you—” she starts violently coughing again, and this time I am ready with the water, although I hesitate, unsure if I want to give it and hear the end of this monologue.

“Thank you,” Claire said, “I feel pity for you because you will never be able to look at her the same way knowing that you cheated on me with her. You could have just waited. Frankly, that’s why I didn’t mention the flirting to you because I thought that’s what you were planning. And I was okay with that. Happy about it, almost. But now you go and do this. And you’re going to have to live with that long after I’m not here to remind you.”

The room fills with the cold air coming from the open window. I walk over to close it and see kids screaming outside at the elementary school playground. I shut the blinds. 

“That’s not fair,” I say to Claire, “this isn’t fair.”

“Your life isn’t fair?” Claire asks me, “Look at me Leo, look at me.” I do so, her eyes somehow seem calm but her nostrils are flaring with anger. “I’ve been in and out of a hospital for four years, never well enough to work, never well enough to drink, never well enough to have sex, never well enough to do anything but lay in bed and watch cars go by.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Claire shook her head slightly, “that’s all you can say? I’m sorry?”

“I don’t know what else I can say,” is all I can manage.  

“Get out Leo.”

[storieswithlance-blog]

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Hi! If you’re reading this it means I did something right. This blog is to share the things I write with you. Whether you’re here because I care about you and want you to know about these stories, or you’re here because I trusted the wrong person, welcome. I write things. I write stories to help me figure shit out. I write poems to help me deal with emotions. Sometimes they suck. I hope you don’t read any of those, but you probably will. Sometimes they’re okay. The okay ones are the ones that I want you to read and hopefully enjoy. Anyway, I have a short story up if you want to read that, and if no one ever reads this, still kinda proud of myself for trying.