Beast(27)

“Yeah.”

“Yes,” she demands.

Jeezus. “Yes.”

She rambles on about therapy and how worried she is, blah blah blah. There’s no convincing her I am fine and do not need therapy, so I nod my head to the beat. Yes, I’ll be there when you pick me up. Yes, I’ll listen to the doctor. Yes, I’ll participate. But the whole time my heart is thumping Ja-mie, Ja-mie, Ja-mie, Ja-mie….

We slow down in front of the entrance and she helps me unload. Mom hands me my bag and looks me dead in the eye. “You’ll be here waiting for me, when?”

“Ninety minutes from now.”

She smothers me in a big hug. “I love you, sweetie. Have a good session. Be strong.”

Inside the lobby, I roll toward our dismal room and wonder if she’ll be there early, like me. “Hey,” she says from behind.

I spin around. It’s her.

Jamie leans against a metal fire extinguisher cubby. “Want to get out of here and do something horrible?”

“Yes, immediately.”





TWELVE


Ten minutes later we’re across the street at a little park where tiny kids take turns falling off a slide onto a squishy sponge disguised as grass. Moms pretending not to check their phones while they push their tots on the swings. I wonder if they have actual things to check or if they’re just bored. The kids don’t care. They swing and jump and play under the drifting leaves among the last rays of afternoon light.

It’s not like Jamie and I want to be here with all these moms, but the park is close enough that I can be back at the hospital in ninety minutes. We meander to nowhere in particular and end up under an old dome that’s been repurposed into a rotunda. She holds on to a wrought iron pole and lets gravity swing her down to the stone step below with a plop.

“I just didn’t want to be there, you know?” she says. “I’m tired of it. The drivel.”

“I hear you.” It’s crisp without the threat of rain, and I lift my face to the sun. My eyes might be closed, but I can see her clearly through the blistering red and yellow leaves. Jamie stands in my mind like a figure cut from different layers of stone. Strong and unexpected. As nervous as I am to be here, and I am beyond nervous, I’m happy.

I hope she is too.

Jamie gets up and takes some scattered pictures of the park. “I decided I don’t need therapy anymore,” she announces.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

She shrugs. “Because I’m the most normal person I know.”

“I don’t think I need it either. Big waste of time.”

“Hooray for us, we’re cured.”

“I’d rather be here.”

She shuffles lightly with laughter. “Me too.”

Jamie’s leaning on a pole and watching the kids play. Not taking pictures, but hugging the camera like she’s wistful. Pining. “Penny for your thoughts,” I say.

“Cheapskate.” She grins. “I was just thinking about what it was like when I was little. Like, I knew exactly what I wanted to be, but I didn’t know how to get there.”

“What did you want to be?”

She looks me right in the eye. “I think I wanted to be a mommy, but I didn’t understand it yet. Does that make sense?”

“Uh…” I glance at the kids and then back to her. “So have some babies ten years from now when you’re ancient, like almost thirty. Not that hard.”

“For me it is,” she says. “I can’t have kids.”

The diabetes. I’ve heard about this. My mom always cries at Steel Magnolias. “Adoption. Surrogacy. There’s a million ways around it; you can still be a mom.”

“I know, I know.” Jamie swings her camera to the trees and takes some shots of dappled sunlight and listing leaves. “And I will be. Just adjusting to the idea now.” She stops shooting long enough to send me a small smile. “You don’t think it’s weird I want to be a mom?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Why would I? Don’t lots of girls want to be moms?”

She sighs, her smile curling like an idle leaf. Carefree. “I like being out with you.”

Uh, duh, being at the park on one of the most glorious days of the year with her is amazing. “I like being out with you too.”

“This is why you’re so cool, Dylan, I’m telling you. Points for humanity right here.”

“Can I cash in my points and ask you something?”

Jamie shifts and stands straight. “Okay.”

“It’s something I’ve been dying to know.”

Her spine stiffens. “Go ahead.”

“The daisies,” I say. I was too mortified to mention them before. It’d be like I would go to text so those daisies, huh? coolest flowers ever! and it felt so stupid, I just deleted it and talked about favorite movies, music, books…everything but daisies.

“Oh my god, the daisies! I forgot all about them!”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Sorry,” she quickly says. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Fine. How did you know I had surgery?”

“I have eyes everywhere.”

“Can’t you just tell me?” JP says girls play games. This must be one of them.