Second Chance Friends (20 page)

J
oanna supposed she couldn't blame Stephen for thinking she'd pulled another one of her disappearing acts. She couldn't even blame him for being angry about it, even though he was wrong. She hadn't disappeared. Not on purpose, at least. She'd been gone only a few hours.

It just happened that she'd gotten Melinda's call about Maddie Routh moments after she'd climbed in the car to go meet Stephen to check out some reception halls.

There'd been no time to call. And she'd been too busy hurrying to the hospital to answer his call. And then she'd been too worried to be bothered with her phone after she arrived, and had turned it off for some peace and time to think.

Or . . . maybe this was just another way of saying she was disappearing again.

Maddie had been admitted. They would keep her for at least the requisite seventy-two hours, but that didn't stop Melinda, Karen, and Joanna from sitting in the waiting room for hours after they'd declared Maddie stable. Hours after Helen and the aged man who'd introduced himself as Cleve had gone, they were still there. It was as if none of them wanted to get too far away from her, just in case something else should happen.

“She cut fairly deep,” Melinda said. “She caught a couple veins pretty good. I don't know if she would have died, but she might have, if her mom hadn't been there. She needs more than seventy-two hours in psych care. She needs real help.”

“How's the baby?” Karen asked.

“So far, so good,” Melinda said. “But she's like thirty-two weeks along. I can't help wondering what that baby's about to be born into, you know?”

“We'll help,” Joanna said. “We can all help her. We've been doing it this long. Why would we stop?”

“I don't know about you guys, but I can't stop,” Melinda said. “I need to make sure this baby is born safe and alive. I can't explain it—it's such a long story—but it's like everything in my life rides on this. If this baby comes out fine, I'm fine. If it doesn't . . . I think I'll lose so much.”

Joanna shook her head as if trying to clear it. “I don't follow.”

“Paul wants kids. I . . . can't get there. All I can think about are the dying kids and the scared kids and the hurt kids.”

“And the troubled kids,” Karen added. “Don't forget those. They'll kill you slowly.”

“Yeah, those, too,” Melinda said. “I'm sorry, Karen,” she mumbled, and Karen waved her off. “Anyway, I don't see how anyone can do it. I would be such a nervous wreck all the time, I don't understand how it is even a little bit worth the time and energy.”

“But it is,” Karen said. She sat up straighter. “I mean, there's a lot of anxiety and stress, sure. And from what I can see, it never stops. But it's worth it. Travis is a shithead. He really is. And he's in so much trouble now, there's probably no fixing him. But there were so many good days with him. So many hugs and ice cream kisses that got my face all sticky and times when we talked—just sat and talked about our lives—and he loves me. It sounds selfish to say it's worth it to have kids because they love you, and I don't really mean it that way. I just mean it like when one of your kids tells you he loves you . . . it makes up for all of the hard parts of parenting.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “That probably sounds really hollow and stupid coming from me, huh?”

“Of course not,” Joanna said. She reached over and put her hand on Karen's arm.

Karen lunged forward and gasped, grabbing Joanna's hand. “Is that an engagement ring? Stephen proposed?”

Joanna pulled her hand away, suddenly shy. “Yeah,” she said, turning her hand over so that the diamond faced down into her lap.

“You're engaged?” Melinda asked. “Congratulations. I'm so sorry—you don't want to be listening to my depressing marriage problems right now when you're planning a wedding.”

“When did this happen?” Karen asked.

“A while ago,” Joanna admitted.

“You haven't said anything,” Karen said. “Have I just been missing the ring?”

Joanna could feel herself blush. “No, I haven't been wearing it. It, um . . . makes my finger swell,” she lied.

“Oh, an allergic reaction?” Melinda asked. “I've heard of that. Some people are sensitive to metals.” She grabbed Joanna's hand, turned it over, and inspected the area around the ring, frowning. “Huh, it looks fine.”

Joanna pulled her hand away again. “It comes and goes,” she said.

“So when's the date?” Karen asked.

“We haven't set one yet. We were supposed to go look at a couple of halls tonight, but . . .” She gestured around the hospital corridor and shrugged.

“Oh, you should go,” Melinda said. “We can handle this.”

“No, that's okay. I want to be here,” Joanna said.

“It's your wedding,” Karen said. “We've got this. You go, be with Stephen.”

“It's fine. He'll understand.”

“Joanna, don't be silly. You can come back tomorrow,” Melinda said.

“She'll be here until Wednesday, at the very least,” Karen added. “We can't do anything until then anyway.”

Joanna felt sweat pop out on her forehead. She wanted them to just stop talking. Why did she wear her ring today? Oh, that was right—because Stephen would definitely
have noticed if she hadn't been wearing it. “No, really, I'm going to stay.”

“Go, go,” Karen said, and at the same time, Melinda said, “We'll have coffee in the morning and catch you up on any news.” Each of them pushed and prodded at Joanna.

She began to feel her pulse in her temples, which were now so coated with sweat that her hair stuck to the sides of her face. She wasn't ready to let people know about the wedding. She wasn't ready for choosing a reception hall and she wasn't ready for setting dates and she would never be ready. She couldn't do this. All she wanted was to drive to the theater and watch Éponine sigh her last breath in Marius's arms. All she wanted to do was feel the brush of Sutton's fingers on her bare arm. All she wanted was to go back in time to that moment with Alyria in the makeup room, to go back and lean into Alyria and smell her perfume and kiss her and hold her hand at an ice cream shop and take her home for Thanksgiving.

She wanted to take back the disappearing acts.

She wanted to be done hiding.

“I'll call you later,” Karen said. “When we're done here.”

Melinda gave her another little push. “We'll see you tomorrow morning. So, go. Go, go, go.”

“I'm gay,” Joanna blurted, her eyes squeezed closed. She gulped, and then opened her eyes and repeated, staring at Karen, “I'm gay.”

“Oh,” Karen said. “I had just assumed Stephen was the one who gave you the ring.”

Joanna nodded. She twisted the ring off her finger and
stared at it in the palm of her hand. “He was. Is. Whatever.” And then suddenly she burst into laughter. “I've never said it out loud before.” She covered her mouth with her palm.

“I'm confused,” Melinda said.

Which only made Joanna laugh harder. “So was I. Oh, my God, forever I was confused. But it's so stupid, all this worrying and hiding. I'm gay. I'm in love with a woman named Sutton. But she's not the first. I've been in love with women for years and I've been running from it and oh, my God, I'm engaged to Stephen and I'm gay.”

“Oh,” Karen repeated. She paused. “What are you going to do?”

“She's going to break it off. Right?” Melinda said. “You can't stay with him if you're in love with someone else.”

Joanna waited for the punch in the gut, the guilty heart slam, the emotion that would send her back into hiding. It had been so natural to her for so long to deny, deny, deny what she was feeling—to call it confusion or call it wrong or call it whatever, but it was what it was. She loved Stephen deeply, but she was in love with Sutton. And even if Sutton didn't return her feelings, she wouldn't suddenly feel the same way about Stephen as she had about Sutton. She wouldn't feel that way about any man. She'd known it since she was twelve years old. She just never felt safe admitting it—not even to herself.

She gazed at Karen and Melinda, who were both looking at her expectantly. Why was it she finally felt safe, and it was with these two ladies? They weren't the same ages; they had little to nothing in common, other than a shared morning on a beautiful, horrible September day.

But what they did have in common was huge. They'd watched a man die. They'd kept his wife alive. They'd come together in the single most defining moment of someone else's life . . . and had ended up defining themselves. Or at least Joanna had. She knew it now. There was no going back.

“Yeah,” she said. “I'm going to have to break it off. Of course.”

And it wasn't until she said it out loud that she realized what that really meant. Poor Stephen. She would break his heart. She would destroy him. She would destroy her mother, who wanted so badly for this moment to finally come. But she couldn't spend her whole life being silently shattered to spare a few people a few bad days.

“He's going to be so shocked,” she said. “How do I do it?”

Melinda shrugged. “Just say to him what you said to us.”

Joanna tried to imagine herself looking into Stephen's hopeful eyes and saying those words:
I'm gay, Stephen. I know we've made love countless times. And I liked it. I can't explain it, but I liked it while even wishing I was with a girl I know.

It definitely wasn't going to be as easy as
Just say to him what you said to us.
But for the first time ever, it seemed doable.

•   •   •

Joanna did eventually leave the hospital. So did Karen and Melinda, when they finally decided that maybe leaving Maddie Routh alone in the hospital would be okay.

“You think she'll try again?” Joanna asked on the way to the parking lot.

“It's definitely possible,” Melinda said.

“Especially after the baby is born and the postpartum hormones set in,” Karen answered. “I had a heck of a time, and I was nowhere near suicidal before Travis was born. I saved that for after he turned sixteen.” She chuckled. “Kidding. Bad joke. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Melinda said. “We can't be holding our breath all the time. Do you think she'll keep the baby, or do you think she's going to give it up?”

“No way,” Joanna said. “She wouldn't be able to give up Michael's baby.”

“But she's tried to kill it several times now,” Karen said. “And she went through that whole thing about the names, remember? I think she doesn't know what she's going to do once the baby is born. I think it scares her.”

“It would scare me,” Melinda said.

Joanna and Karen chuckled. “We know,” they said in unison.

“I'm so glad you find the dismantling of my life so funny,” Melinda said, but she was smiling when she said it.

“Of course it's not funny,” Karen said. “But it definitely went without saying.”

Melinda let out a breath of laughter. “I suppose you're right,” she said. She stopped walking, and they each stopped with her. “Do you guys think I would be a good mother?”

“Of course,” Joanna said.

“Yes,” Karen said, as if it was obvious. “But you'll have to let go of some of your fears. Bad things happen to good kids. You can't help it.”

“I guess not,” Melinda said, and started walking again.

When they got to the parking garage and had to part ways, Melinda jangled her keys and asked if they all wanted to stop by the Tea Rose for some pie.

“I've got to get home,” Karen said. “Marty is bringing over some dinner.”

Joanna shook her head. “Not this time. I've got someone I need to see.”

•   •   •

The show was sold out. It had grown increasingly popular and had been enjoying sold-out shows on a regular basis now. Not bad for a low-rent production filled with amateurs who would never get past community theater.

But it meant that Joanna had to pull around to the back entrance and wait. She parked next to Sutton's car.

She made the mistake of turning on her phone. Stephen had called multiple times. She deleted all the voice mails without even listening to them. She could guess what they had to say, and she couldn't blame him for being pissed or worried or both. She texted him:

Sorry something came up with Maddie Routh. I had to turn off my phone in hospital and now I'm

She paused, thought about how she might finish the sentence without outright lying. But the last thing she wanted was for him to show up here and make things even more difficult. She would talk to him, but she needed to sleep on it, to decide what to say.

—
having an important meeting
,
she continued.
Will explain tomorrow.

He texted back, right away, several texts firing into her phone at once, demanding to know where she was. Wondering if Maddie was okay, if she was okay. Telling her he'd been thinking the worst, and the least she could have done was text him earlier. Telling her that they'd missed the guy at their first choice for reception hall and probably wouldn't be able to get another appointment before the wedding. Which was interesting, she thought, since they still didn't have a date in mind.

She ignored those texts, placed her phone facedown on the passenger seat, slid back in her chair, and turned up the radio.

She didn't realize she'd dozed until knocking woke her up. She jerked awake, swimming to consciousness only to find Sutton grinning outside her window, a black coat with fur collar buttoned all the way up to her chin. She waved when Joanna looked at her.

Joanna rolled down her window. “Hey,” she said sleepily. “You startled me.”