I suck in my cheeks and nod, realizing she either didn’t care enough to tell me the truth or she doesn’t care enough to lie better. Either way, I felt the valley between us grow increasingly wider, each time we communicated.
She goes over to the stove, lifting the lid of the pot and inhales deeply. “Mmmm, that smells incredible. You made this?”
My turn to evade the truth. “Yeah. Just like Dad used to make.” I remain on the couch, while attempting to listen to Andrea cite all the work she’s done recently and the long hours she’s putting in, around mouthfuls of her own bowl of pastina. I dip my head from time to time, but really my mind is trying to figure out who dressed, fed, and cared for me last night.
Did Mairead stop by to check on me? No, I don’t think it was her. Where did that toothpick come from? Or it could be…was it him? My stalker?
Back in my room, I message Eamon. I knew I was too sick to work this evening. Did he already know that? I keep it simple.
Cindel: Hey. I’m pretty sick today. Unfortunately, I don’t think I can make it into work.
His response was jarring. No, he wasn’t a dick nor did he threaten to fire me like previous bosses would when I was calling out on short notice. Not that at all. In fact, his response was kind, even worried for me.
It’s Eamon Actually: Oh shit. I’m sorry to hear. Can I help in any way? Do you need me to deliver anything? Food or medicine perhaps?
He also included,not to worry about my shift. With the two new hires, him, and Connor, he was confident they could handle a Saturday night rush.
No, Eamon’s response was unsettling because he didn’t know I was unwell. There’s no logical explanation for why Eamon would secretly visit, care for me, make me soup, and then act surprised when I say,I’m sick and can’t come into work.
How does he benefit from all of this? Why pretend to be two separate people? Eventually I responded to his text.
Cindel: No, thank you. I have everything I need.
Which means… my face feels numb.
Eamon didn’t take care of me either. It wasn’t Andrea; she was just as surprised to find me unwell. So, unless Mairead made a copy of my apartment key, became unnaturally strong and determined to care for me, the only explanation is… there’s two of them.
The paralyzing feeling courses through me when I realize I truly and unequivocally have no idea who the masked man is.
Initially, I thought it was Eamon playing some kind of game. Plus, the coincidence with the sour candy… after I blacked out at the lantern festival my masked stalker offered me the candy to calm me, then Eamon picked the same movie treat on our date. Does he have a clone? A twin?
All at once, images flash like a flipbook.
The things he’s done to me. Fuck, the things I’ve done to him! I let a stranger drive his cock down my throat. How am I not dead? I must be the biggest idiot in all of Boston. I bury my face in my pillow and scream. Then cry and then scream some more. I am exhausted, trying to recover from whatever ails my body while my mind is a tangled mess of embroidery floss. All the colors, mixing and weaving together into impossibly complicated knots. Instead of being patient and sorting through them like a sane person would… I just shove my hand into the metaphorical sewing box and swirl them all around until it is impossible to make sense of where one thread starts and the other ends.
Mairead also reached out, in between bouts of me screaming into my pillow. She sent photos of herself in the intense strawberry print dress, with a disgruntled looking fluffy, white bunny. The creature had thissave melook about it, while Mairead squeezed the poof of fur to her chest. I hope that’s her pet and not some poor wild rabbit she found in a park on the way home. Each time we hang out, I speculate if her free-spirited personality is something to be coveted or medicated. After the slideshow of candid photos, she texts.
Mairead: Hurry up and get better. We’re doing an Escape Room next time! Bring along your grumpy roommate too.
I’ve visited more attractions with Mairead over the past few weeks than I have in years! I send a thumbs up emoji, silence my phone, and attempt to sleep.
One eye pries open, instantly spotting movement. I blink a few times before my vision clears, finding people coming and going within the brightly lit room. Layered crisp, white sheets cover my body against the cold temperature of the room.
A woman with buttery hair holds her head within her hands, as a tall man in a dress shirt, tries to make her feel better. The woman is my mommy. She cries at my bedside, while Daddy rubs circles on her back. They look tired, like they haven’t slept in a while. Mommy’s hair is sticking in different directions, while Daddy’s top is wrinkled. I’ve never seen him wear an unpressed shirt before. I don’t know why I’m here or what’s wrong with my parents, but I don’t like it.
Where’s Theo? I glance around for my brother, finally spotting him across the room, asleep in a chair. My uncle stands by the room's door frame causing my daddy to leave us and to go to him. I don’t see my uncle very much, so I’m surprised he’s here.
Uncle Nicholas would sometimes stop by during the holidays. I remember when he brought me a present once. It was a stencil kit, where I could change the plates for the top, middle, and bottom of a dress, then lay down my paper and color on top. It was one of my favorite things because there were endless varieties of dresses I could make.
Another time, my uncle visited late at night. Theo was already asleep in his room, but I was still up. When I wentdown the stairs to get a glass of water, I heard Daddy and my uncle arguing in the study. When I asked about it the next day, my daddy said they were just discussing work. He told me, “Being a grown-up is complicated and to try and be sweet for as long as I can.”
I didn’t understand what he meant at the time, but I was happy to learn anything from him. I wish I was at home right now, making new dress combinations. If it was Christmas, my family would be all together, including my uncle. There would be songs, games, and laughter. All while enjoying hot cocoa with marshmallows.
Right now, is not a time for merriment. I watch as my uncle and daddy speak with big hand movements. They’re too far to hear, but my mommy is close and she’s talking to a nurse now, but I can’t hear them either.
The lady in a blue uniform has kind eyes. She comes to my side and takes hold of my wrist, while looking at her watch. She smiles at me. The corners of her eyes look wrinkly. I realize that her mouth is moving but still no words come out. My daddy suddenly noticed me. He walks over and plants a kiss on my forehead as I sit up. Mommy squeezes my hand from her seated position. Their mouths move, but still, I hear nothing.
Something is wrong. I try to listen harder. Maybe I’m not paying enough attention. I can hear something! Like a ringing bell off in the distance. The noise gets louder the longer I try to listen. Like a fire alarm sounding, but no one is trying to evacuate the building.
