Date = 7 June
Place = San Francisco (UCSF Medical center)
POV – Aria
“Are you okay dear?” I look into the warm brown eyes of an elderly nurse, a true worried expression on her round face. She reminds me of my mother. I wipe the tears and snot away with the sleeve of my hoodie and stare at her with huge eyes, my mind to clogged to think straight.
“You don’t look to good,” she continues.
I look down at my clothes. She’s right. I look like trash … but for the first time I don’t even care. Oh, if my followers could see me now they’ll probably all unsubscribe in an instance. And they’ve increased by the thousands since I did the make-up for that video. All thanks to Mel. She asked me to make-up the boys’ faces like skeletons for their latest stunt video, and since it went viral, people started subscribing to my channel like wildfire. It’s amazing.
But I’m sure they’ll all freak out seeing me like this. No makeup. My unbrushed hair stuck in a distorted bundle on my head. Big baggy jeans and a green sweater top. And I’m sure I stink too. Yeah, I’m definitely not the epitome of my usual perfectly stylish self at this moment. Even my green nail polish is chipped. At least it matches my top … that’s something, right? Enrique probably thanks his lucky stars that he dodged this messy bullet.
The nurse laughs softly. “I didn’t mean your clothes, dear … I meant emotionally.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s actually good news for once.” I eventually answer the nurse, giving her a faint smile. She sits down on the bench next to me.
“Oh, thank God. I thought someone died.” Well, she’s not far wrong with that statement. Someone did kill my poor heart. And he ripped out my sole too, just like I knew he would. So I was expecting this … well not exactly the baby this … just something like this, but still, this last week or so I’ve been stuck in hell, or what I image hell would feel like. I can’t eat or sleep, walking around in this unkempt zombie-like state.
And to top it off, I moved back, stuck in Enrique’s house, reliving every painful memory we shared over and over again. Hell. I’m telling you it’s frickin hell. But I did it for Leyla. She is so happy to be back in her room, and right now it’s what she needs. Alejandro’s house was also too far from everything, so it makes sense. But it doesn’t make it less painful.
Enrique stays at the club now. I haven’t seen him since he came to explain everything to me about a week ago. It’s a far-fetched story, but I opted to believe him, considering Brian and Amanda’s previous schemes. It’s just sick, but given what’s happened so far, not even Lady Gaga … riding a dinosaur down Lombard Street … naked … would surprise me anymore.
“So, if I may ask, why are you crying happy and sad tears at the same time?” The nurse, Betty according to her name tag, takes my hand. It’s as if she fills my aura with warmth, love and trust, cushioning me from the pain for a few moments.
“My heart aches ’cause I can never be with the man I love,” I blurt out my deepest secret without thinking.
“You’re little Enrique’s girl.” It’s more a statement than a question, and I smile at her motherly word choice … as if she’s closely familiar to him.
“Ex girl. Eh, do you know him?” She pats my hand in hers.
“I’ve known those Blackburn children since they were still in diapers. They visited the ER so regularly, I became good friends with their mom and later their uncle. They always came in loud … and always together, never alone. Wild little things. And real busy bodies. Guess they haven’t changed much.” She pauses a moment.
“It’s as if they have this magical energetic cloud around them that covers everybody they come in contact with. And once that cloud sticks to you, you can never shake it off. You’ll always remember them.” I guess I got caught in that cloud too. But there’s something else that’s been bothering me since I’ve met them. Mel told me about their trips to the hospital, but my question is, how can people that athletic be that clumsy to always get hurt? I mean, I’m a klutz and I’ve never visited the ER … not even once.
“They get that warmness from their mother.” Her voice is husky, reliving the past.
“Betty, how did they get hurt so much?”
“Well, if I hadn’t known their mother and uncle, I would have thought the poor things were being abused. But I reckon they are just unlucky kids that love to live on the edge. It was always broken bones, stitches, burns, bruises … anything you can imagine, and even some you can’t. I prayed so hard for them.” She has this look in her eyes as if she’s thinking way back.
“Especially little Jackson. Oh, I swore that boy had a death wish or something. But they’re all good kids with big hearts … just a little rough around the edges. Maybe you should give that model boy of yours another chance.” I smile sadly.
“Giving him another chance is not the problem. Things are just too complicated.” Even though I believe in the turkey baster explanation, masterly described to me by Ilkay via video chat, and that Sport hasn’t cheated on me, the bitch is still pregnant with his baby.
And even if I thought that maybe … just maybe, I could still consider giving us a chance … Enrique himself canceled our contract, told me that it’s over between us (not that there ever was anything real) and that I need to focus on my life and be happy. He concluded that because he’s breaking the contract, it’s his obligation to still pay for Leyla’s treatments. He also sort of forced me to continue staying in his house at least until she gets better. I agreed, for Leyla’s sake, but what he doesn’t know is that I’m keeping track of every penny he gives us so I can pay him back. Even if it takes me a lifetime. It’s anyway gonna take me a lifetime to get over him, so I can just as well spend it clearing my debt.
“Love, my dear, is always as complicated as we make it.” She pats my hand again. “Never run away from true love … it only comes ones in a lifetime … if your lucky.”
“Well, for love to be anything, there first must be love.” I can’t make him love me like I love him. So he’s my true love … doesn’t mean I’m his.
“I suppose so. So, what’s the good news?” Her whole demeanor changes from serious to lighthearted. And suddenly I feel excited. The doctor just gave me the best news.
“Oh, they found a bone marrow donor for my sister. The treatment starts tomorrow.” I get up. Here I am waddling in self pity while I need to get everything ready. There’s so much to do, I think I’ll need to make a list. Impulsively I lean down and place a kiss on Betty’s chubby cheek.
“Thanks for the talk.” Her warm smile evaporates my tears. For now I’ll place a bandaid on the scar Enrique left on my heart and focus on getting my sister back to her normal healthy self. I’ve got years and years ahead of me where I can indulge in the pain of a broken heart, but for now I can’t dwell on my own sorrows and misfortunes. They just have to wait for the day after Leyla is cancer free.
“Look after your self, pumpkin,” Betty waves at me as I quickly strut to the pathology department. They need to instruct the donor to be ready for the procedure, since the donor wants to stay anonymous. I turn the corner and see a familiar figure standing at the counter. The same counter we were anxiously waiting for Logan’s DNA results. Ship, that feels like ages ago. I softly walk closer so I can surprise her.
“I want you to use this patient identifier number here,” she’s leaning forward over the counter as much as she can, standing on the tips of her toes, and points her finger at a paper “and test all the DNA samples of that given test against the DNA of this number here. The results should be sent to Dr. Burden. And please mark it as urgent.”
“We have a little bit of a backlog, but we’ll do our best,” it’s the same Barbie-nurse we’ve encountered previously, the one with the long nails and thick makeup.
“What are you doing here?” I ask curiously.
“Holy fucking shit!” Mel shouts, almost jumping over the counter. “Don’t frickin sneak up on a pregnant person like that!” she scolds, placing her hand over her heart.
“She’s doing DNA tests,” the nurse answers for her. Mel gives her a glare and grab my arm, pulling me brutaly with her as if she making a quick getaway.
“It’s just some tests the doctor wants for the baby,” she says briskly. I stop in my tracks, almost tripping her. I chuckle at her scornful face.
“Wait, I need to sort out some stuff here.” She pouts and looks down at the ground. I turn back to the nurse and hand her the paper from Leyla’s doctor. She looks at it and then lifts her head and just nod at me.
“We’ll make sure to call the donor and arrange everything.” It feels as if a heavy stone is lifted from my soul. This is it. At last Leyla might be cured from this awful sickness.
“What’s that about?” Mel asks, pulling on me again. Is she hiding something, or does she just want to get away from here?
“They found a donor for Leyla, but he or she wants to stay anonymous. Mel, my sister is gonna get better!” This time I grab her arm in excitement. Her face lights up and she starts jumping up and down as if she swallowed a rubber ball.
“Eeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhh,” she screams, causing all heads in the vicinity to turn to us. But who cares. Certainly not Mel. Her delight rubs off on me and I join her in her bouncing jitters. We do this happy-little-girls charade for a second or two and then she grabs me around my neck, now hopping, hugging and yelling. I’m just grateful that I haven’t lost her as a friend. Losing Enrique is hard enough.
“Oh, oh, oh,” she let’s go of me, “I know … let’s go get some chocolate cake to celebrate … and burgers … I’m starving here.” I look at her tiny body and the hint of a bump, the fact that she’s not getting majorly obese is blowing my mind. She eats like a cow these days. “And milkshake … or snails … yes … I need cheesy-garlic sauce … lots of it … Do you crave seafood right now? I do.” She circles her arms through mine and we walk out the hospital, she going on about food and me just listening to her talking.
“How did you get here?” I ask when she stops her rambling to take a breath. The people from Lamborghini hasn’t finished customizing her new ride yet. Maybe she got an Uber.
“I’m using Ilkay’s truck while he’s gone. You?” I swing some keys in front of her face. “Logan gave me his second car to use until I can afford my own one. He said it’s just sitting in the garage all the time and it would be good for the car’s battery if I use it.” Mel frowns and tilts her head.
“Second car? Logan?” she ask as if confused. Then she pulls a funny frowny face. Maybe she hasn’t seen it before ’cause it was stuck in the garage all the time. “Great, where is it?” I start walking to where I’ve parked the red Mini Cooper convertible.
“It’s like brand new and is so cute. I just love it.” I chirp excitedly. I’m very grateful that Logan borrowed me this sweet car. I press the button and the lights flicker as it beeps. Mel stares at the car, the frown on her face deepening.
“You sure this car is Logan’s?”
“Yes, silly, he brought me the keys himself, and the car was in his garage.” Then she pulls up her shoulders and walks to Ilkay’s truck.
“Shall we call the girls to meet us there?” She looks back over her shoulder, waiting for my answer. We’ve decided to go eat at Grimms, since I would not be allowed to enter any other restaurant with the shagged unkempt way I look. And anyway, I want to tell my brother and sister the good news in person. Leyla is with Noah, and I know he’s working, since Alejandro is still away. After he met Ilkay in Helsinki, he went on to meet his brother who is racing in France.
“Sure, the more the merrier.” I can do with the company … anything to keep my mind of Enrique. She sends a message while I get into the car.
“Follow me,” she shouts. I drive the whole way closely behind the big black truck thinking about Enrique; wondering what he’s doing and how he’s feeling. I know he doesn’t love Amanda … I’m not even sure he likes her. Yeah, sure he fucked her a few times before, but like all the rest (me included I suppose) she was just a body with boobs and a vagina for him to conquer. Another trophy on his shelf. But why would Amanda do something so terrible? Maybe she really really loves him … and love makes you do all sorts of stupid things I suppose. But what she did wasn’t stupid … it’s next level evil. Oh, I hate that bitch. I wonder if she ever thought about the baby. Or how Enrique will feel about being a dad. Will his robotic heart be able to love the kid? Yes, Enrique is going to be a wonderful father, if the way he treats Leyla is anything to go by. I swallow back my tears and park next to Mel. She goes on about food again and I’m starting to think that being pregnant turns your brain into a giant cupcake.
As soon as we enter Grimms my phone rings. It’s an unknown number.
“Hello?” I answer and walk to find a quiet corner.
“Good day, is this Aria Thompson?” A woman asks in a very business type manner.
“Yes. Can I help you?” It’s probably something to do with Leyla’s treatment.
“I’m Tracy and I’m the assistant for Frank Dellario from Pixel Valley Studio. We are looking for a makeup artist and you came very highly recommended. Would you be able to come in for an interview next week?” I’m stunned. Is this for real? Who recommended me?
“Eh … yeah … sure.” It’s a job! A real job. Doing makeup.
“Alright then. I will WhatsApp you all the information.”
“Thanks.”
“See you next week. Good bye, Aria.” And just like that the conversation ends. I’m still in a state of semi shock. Now I’ll be able to safe up and pay Enrique back. Maybe I’ll even be able to afford my own apartment. I go to find Mel to tell her the good news. She’s in the bathroom, peeing again. Her voice floats through the thin walls of the cubicles. She must be on the phone. I lean against the basin, waiting for her to finish so I can tell her about my new job.
“How do I know it’s yours? Ug, I don’t know … maybe because Logan hates red!” I wonder why he doesn’t like the color. Is it one of those triggers from their past? Or is it just not his thing. Maybe that’s why he never drove the Mini … because he doesn’t like the color. It makes a lot of sense now. But why buy it in the first place then? Unless it was sponsored or something.
“I don’t know why you need to hide everything all the time. You even hide your feelings and it’s bullshit.” I wonder who she’s talking to and what they’re hiding. “I understand that the circumstances are not great … but still. She has a right to know or are you just going to mess up both your lives?” She sounds agitated.
“I know. And it’s all that fucking bitch’s fault!” A loud POW noise makes me jump. “I’ll frickin kill her and her best friend with a fucking shoe.” She must have slapped or kicked the cubicle wall. Is she talking about Amanda? Or Chloe? Or me? There’s a few moments of silence. She’s probably listening to the person on the phone. It’s no fun eavesdropping on a one-sided conversation, not knowing what the other side is saying. When she speaks again, she sounds sad and close to tears.
“Okay, I’ll stop. Are you ready for next week?” Another moment of silence.
“Enrique, listen … everything’s going to be okay. Logan and Kiara will look after the club and I will look after you, since my man is gallivanting overseas with his brother. Now, they’re going fly fishing in Canada after the race with their father and Luke. I’m not invited. Anyway, Ilkay said it’s only a few days and you’ll be as good as new. You can do this.” I hear her moan. Is Enrique sick? My heart makes a loop and I have to bite my lip to stop me from crying. Is he stressed about the baby?
“And I’m sure everything else will work out too,” she sniffs. “No, I’m not crying. It’s the baby. He’s sad.” She snorts a grunt, probably at something he said.
“Ug, I finished peeing and I need to wipe, so I’ll see you tonight and give you lots of Mel-cuddles, okay. I love you, doofus.” She flushes and then walks out the stall. She shrieks when she sees me and close her mouth with her hand, her eyes huge.
“Eh, Aria … um … how long have you been standing there?” she blushes and can’t look me in the eyes.
“Is Enrique sick?” I have to know. Mel now stares at me with a strange new look in her blue eyes.
“You truly love him, don’t you?” Now it’s my turn to look away awkwardly, and I can feel the heat burning up my face.
“He’ll be alright. He’s just a little down.” My eyes shoot to hers. Thank goodness he’s okay. I have so many questions, but I don’t want to sound like a stalker. As long as he’s okay, I’m happy enough. We walk up the stairs to the loft. Time to tell my siblings the good news.