Theresa Paolo - (Never) Again

“You need to stop flirting and start focusing on getting better,” she said. “Now get some rest. I’ll come back later.”

“They . . . always do,” he said in true Josh fashion, right before falling back asleep.

The nurse left and I went to take my spot back on the bed when Zach grabbed my arm.

“We should go,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I yanked my arm out of his hold and sat beside Josh on the bed.

Zach walked over to me. “Liz, you heard the nurse. He needs his rest.”

“And he can get that with me here, so I don’t see a reason for leaving.”

“You need sleep,” he said.

“I can sleep here.” I was tempted to stand and stomp my foot but I refrained. I wasn’t going to resort to childish tactics. “I’m sure I can get a pillow and a blanket, and I’ll just put two chairs together in the waiting room. I’ll be fine.”

“Look, I saw a hotel around the corner,” Zach said. “We can give the nurse our cell numbers. If anything happens they can call us and we can be here immediately. You need to get some sleep. Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, determined to stand my ground. Then the damn nurse poked her head back in.

“I’m really sorry but visiting hours are over. He needs his rest. You can come back tomorrow. Visiting hours start at eight.”

“See?” Zach said. “Come on, let’s go. We can calm down and watch some TV—I’ll even let you have the remote.”

“No!” I yelled, immediately turning to Josh, worried I woke him. But he was snoring again.

“You can’t talk to him until tomorrow anyway. He can’t even tell if you’re here or not right now.” I could see the frustration burning in his eyes. For the most part Zach could keep his cool, but it had been a long day, and it was apparent his patience was waning.

“That’s not the point. Whether he knows or not, I will know. I will know if I was here. I need to be here. You can go if you want.” I waved my hand towards the curtain.

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” he said and moved closer.

“And I’m not leaving him here by himself. He already went through so much alone. I can’t leave him, Zach.”

“You’re not leaving him.” Zach came over to me, resting his hands on my shoulders.

“I—” I went to speak but the words wavered. Tears stung the corners of my eyes. All I wanted was to curl up next to my brother, just like I used to do when we were kids.

I had been scared of the dark, and he’d always let me come in his room whenever I heard a weird noise in the night. He’d even go as far as checking in his closet and under his bed for the monsters so I could rest easy.

“Look, this is one argument you are not going to win because if I have to, I will carry you out of here. You’re no use to your brother exhausted. Get a few hours of sleep and then we’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

I was sick of arguing.

“I guess a couple hours of sleep would be good.” I refused to look at him. I didn’t want to see the satisfaction on his face.

I looked back at Josh one last time. Mom’s words came to mind, “Kiss Josh for me.” At the time it seemed repulsive. Now it was the only thing I could think to do. I leaned over to my brother and kissed his cheek, just as Mom would have done.

The hotel was more like a motel. It was dark, dingy and reeked of sleazy one-night stands. I would have been better off in the hospital waiting room. Granted the hotel room had a bed, but did I really want to sleep on those sheets? God only knew what illegal acts had taken place on them.

Zach came back with a key and pulled the Jeep up in front of our room. The red door made me think of the red light district in Amsterdam. I jumped out of the Jeep and ran into the room, hoping nobody would mistake me for a prostitute.

My eyes focused on the wood-paneled walls and the brown, flower-patterned carpet. It was something out of an episode of The Brady Bunch. And as if my life was a book or some crappy movie, there was only one bed. Not even a king. A queen.

The comforter was paper-thin and hunter green with pink flowers. This room was a tacky disaster. I was expecting the musty smell of water damage, but to my surprise it smelled of Pine Sol. It was the only plus in a sea of negatives.

Then again, who was I to be complaining about anything? My brother was alive. Six people were dead, and six families weren’t as lucky as me.

It made me want to pick something up and smash it against the wall so I could watch my anger shatter into a million pieces. And as my eyes scanned the room for the perfect object to take out my fury, I spotted the phone.

I dove at it, taking the receiver in my hand before realizing I didn’t have the number to the hospital. I looked to Zach and before I could ask he said, “I already called the hospital when I went to check in. Josh is doing fine. He’s sleeping. I gave them the number to the hotel and went over our cell numbers again. They said they would call us immediately if something happened. Then the nurse reassured me nothing is going to happen.”

But something already did happen.

“And I called your parents too. They’re at the airport right now on standby.”

My parents. What I would have given to have my Mommy in this moment.

“The lady at the front desk said we could rent movies on the TV. Movies still out in the theater. How awesome is that?” Zach said, an exaggerated smile forming on his face. He was trying to help, but come on. This was the 21st century—every hotel had in-room movies. Anyways, not even a marching band barging through our hotel room would have been able to divert my attention right now.

The sight of my brother with a million wires and tubes hooked up to him was permanently burned into my mind. And when I closed my eyes, the vision of him being shot played across my eyelids like a movie screen.

“Do you want to take a shower? I can get lost for a little while,” Zach said.

“No.”

“Do you want to watch a movie then? I think they have that one with Leonardo DiCaprio. I know how much you love him. Or at least used to.”

His feeble attempts to distract me were actually kind of sweet. From the minute Zach had arrived at my door that afternoon, through the whole day of ups and downs, he had been there. It was as if he was always there. As if he’d never left and the time he was gone didn’t exist. But it did.

“Still do,” I said and tried to smile, but my muscles were so weak it fell short.

“So what do you say? A little Leo to brighten your night?”

“I think I’m just going to lie down.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I walked over to the bed, crawled to the pillows, wrapped my arms around them and closed my eyes, bracing for the images to return.

I felt the bed sink down as Zach sat on the edge. I should have said something. I could have thanked him for everything. But I just didn’t have it in me. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and completely confused as to how one minute my life was pretty damn good and then the next a total disaster.

“I saw a Wal-Mart up the road. We need a few things. Do you want to come?” he asked.

Without opening my eyes I shook my head no, still clinging to the pillow.

“Okay, well, I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anybody. Keep it locked. I have a key. And I have my cell if you need me.” The bed lifted as he rose. I waited to hear the sound of the door—instead I felt his hand on my head, smoothing my hair out of my face.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said before kissing me on the forehead.

When I heard the sound of the door close I felt alone. Utterly and completely alone. I was scared. I needed my parents more than I ever had before and they weren’t there. I needed my brother, but he was the whole reason I was so anxious in the first place.

I realized Zach had been keeping me grounded through this whole tortuous day. He was the closest thing to family I had here with me, because regardless of the year of regret and anger, I once loved him.

When he walked out of that room, the wall in my heart that had taken forever to build up began to crack slightly.

Tears formed a film in front of my eyes until I finally succumbed to the overwhelming emotions I had been trying so hard to fight.

I cried.

I cried for my brother. For the lives lost. For the families who, unlike mine, would never see their loved ones again. For Mimi. For myself. For everything.

Tears poured out in streams of anger, fear and regret until there was nothing left. Until I was dry. Empty. With nothing left to cry over, I fell asleep.

I awoke to the sound of the door opening. A quick flutter of panic raced through me at the thought of an intruder. Then I saw Zach struggling with several bags and a large box. He made it to the dark oak dresser that held the TV and set everything down.

I sat up in the bed and pulled my knees into my chest. The salty tracks of the dried tears on my cheek reminded me of reality. Sleep had allowed me to forget about it momentarily.

“I got toothbrushes,” Zach said, holding up two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. “I also got you deodorant because even if you look like hell, we don’t want you to smell.” A teasing smile settled on his face.

I picked up the pillow, the only thing for me to hold on to when he left, and tossed it at his head. I didn’t need the pillow anymore. He was back.

“Jerk,” I said and was surprised when it didn’t hurt to smile.

“Hey!” Zach yelled just before he caught the pillow inches from his face.