Alice considers for a moment. It’s been a while since she’s thought about anything more than making it through to her next paycheck. “I used to work at this pediatric dentist’s office, before they closed the practice,” she says slowly. “I really liked that. There was always something different to do: filing, scheduling, inventory, cleaning, lots of kids to talk to. I mean, most of them were miserable, because who likes the dentist.” Van laughs. “But, yeah, that was the best job I’ve ever had. I’d love to do something like that again. Somewhere busy, with people, where I feel like my contributions matter.”
Van hums a little, like what Alice said is important enough for Van to let it sink in. Like Alice said something meaningful, not some babble about a job she hasn’t had in years.
“Do you like your job?” Alice asks.
Van smiles, and Jesus fuck, she’s so pretty. “Yeah,” she says softly, and Alice wants to crawl into her lap. “Honestly, I only got into the field because it was respectable, you know, one of the only things I thought my parents would approve of and I wouldn’t hate, but it turns out I love it.”
Alice can picture it perfectly. Van’s strong hands, her calmvoice, her steady presence helping people work back from knee surgery or broken hips or stiff necks.
“Good,” Alice says, looking deeply into her eyes for way longer than she should. “I want you to be happy.”
“You too,” Van says, and it looks like she means it.
Eight
Back in the lobby, Van begs off going to Nolan’s condo, saying she’s tired and she’ll meet everyone at the hospital when they’re done. Alice didn’t think that would work—Babs is on a fucking mission—but Babs immediately looks concerned and starts talking a mile a minute about how Van needs to get home and rest immediately. It’s a lot, and it makes Alice wish for a mom so badly.
“I’ll go with you,” Alice says when she can get a word in edgewise, immensely grateful for the opportunity to not have to fake her way through his house. Or condo, rather. She still needs to google what that is. Anyway, she’s pretty sure she got away with not having visited his office before (the two of them care deeply about professionalism) or knowing about his family (he’s kind of a dick), but she definitely would have seen his place.
He doesn’t seem like the type to deign to visit her tiny studio out on Division, and he definitely seems like the type to want to get laid. There’s no way around it. She would need tobe very, very familiar with his bedroom. Which, now that she thinks about it, makes her feel weird. This whole family thinks she had sex, repeatedly, nakedly, with their favorite son? Who is now in a fucking coma? And that’s basically the only thing they know about her? It makes her feel squicky, and she’ll very happily skip over that part, thank you very much.
“Well, let’s all go over the weekend then,” Aunt Sheila says, helpful as ever. “Let’s go see our boy now.”
“Gee,” Alice says, resigning herself to being foiled at every damn opportunity. “Great plan, Aunt Sheila.”
—
The next night, Alice has just stepped back inside Nolan’s hospital room with Marie when she hears a familiar voice speaking softly to the Altmans, and Alice snaps her head over to the far side of the bed. Babs, Aunt Sheila, the interchangeable dad and uncle—Alice needs fucking flashcards, honestly—and Van are all scattered around the room eating mediocre Chinese food out of take-out containers. It’s a raucous Saturday night if Alice has ever had one. Alice and Marie have just returned from plundering extra napkins and chopsticks from the cafeteria, and there’s a woman in the room who wasn’t there before. She looks over at the doorway at the sound of their footsteps and immediately springs to her feet.
“Alice? Little Alice Rue Rue? Is that you?”
Alice’s throat is suddenly tight and she feels like she’s a little kid again, small and afraid and stuttering on the doorstep, unwilling to walk into the room unless Lupe holds her hands out and gives her that safe smile. “Lupe,” she manages to choke out. “Wow.”
Lupe, a short Black woman with strong arms and morewrinkles than Alice remembers, quickly crosses to the doorway. Alice shoves the chopsticks into Marie’s hands before she’s enveloped in Lupe’s arms.
She smells exactly the same. Alice tries to swallow her tears.
Lupe pulls back after a long moment, cupping Alice’s face in her hands. “Look at you!” She’s beaming, but her eyes are wet too. “You’re all grown up!”
Alice tries to laugh, like maybe this is all casual and fun. Running into an old friend! “Yeah, thirteen years will do that to you.”
“Has it really been that long?” Lupe slides her hands down to squeeze Alice’s arms. “It feels like last week.”
Alice nods. “And also like a hundred years ago.”
Lupe nods too, sad and knowing. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?” She looks around the room. “Are you…is Nolan a friend of yours?”
Alice presses her lips together. She doesn’t want to lie to Lupe. Every time a new person thinks she’s dating Nolan, it’s torture, but lying to Lupe feels way beyond the pale. “Um, not exactly,” she mumbles, hoping that’s vague enough to serve as both telling the truth to Lupe and upholding the lie to the other six spectators, all of whom are watching with profound interest.
But it backfires. The hours Alice had spent staring at Lupe’s face when she was younger means that now she can see how Lupe is trying not to visibly crumble. “Oh, sweetie,” Lupe whispers, clearly taking that to mean Nolan is more than a friend, rather than less. “Not again. I’m so sorry, honey.”
Alice blinks. She can feel all of the Altmans staring at her, Van’s eyes almost burning her with a confused tenderness Alice absolutely cannot handle.
“Alice, Pastor Lupe, you know each other?” Babs asks once it becomes clear that Alice isn’t able to respond, one hand on her takeout and the other resting on the blanket next to Nolan’s ankle.
Lupe nods. “I’ve been the ICU chaplain here for almost thirty years. I spent a lot of time with Alice and her parents,” she says, like that will explain things to Babs. Like the Altmans know anything about Alice’s parents, about this hospital. About Alice at all. Lupe gives a little laugh as she says, “The number of card games this girl put me through!” She pats Alice on the shoulder with a loving, maternal smile. “I haven’t been able to stomach a game of Go Fish since.”
Lupe’s phone buzzes and she apologizes, excusing herself from the room. Alice tries not to look at anyone, but she finds herself sending what must be a particularly pathetic and pleading look over to Van, because Van picks up her kung pao chicken immediately. “Let’s get some air,” she says, standing up and absorbing Alice into her orbit as she walks slowly and deliberately out of the room.
