Happy Reading
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PART THREE—Present
It was mid-afternoon, the hospital room stuffy and humid. Lana dabbed at her forehead and found herself gazing sorrowfully out the rectangular window; out into the bright blue sky and lush, green leaves. She was growing tired of her hospital life. Dr. Davidson kept saying one more day, just one more day. She started to wonder, however, if she would ever get out.
The door to her wing opened and her eyes lifted from the window to greet---her eyes widened—her mother and father. “Mom, dad?” she sat up straighter, her limbs numb after another miracle pill.
“Hey, sweetie,” her mother cooed, her image immaculate right down to her three-inch stilettos. She had dyed her hair again, this time an auburn blonde that clashed beautifully with her tanned skin.
“Baby, how you feeling?” her father asked, his suit wrinkle-free. She noticed for the first time the silver-gray strands woven in through his bleached-blonde hair. His skin was leathery in texture, the result of too much sun. That’s when Lana remembered the cruise they had told her about three weeks previous.
“Good. How was your cruise?”
“Oh, it was beautiful. The Bahamas were just spectacular. I wish you could have come, darling,” her mother remarked and for a moment, Lana actually believed her.
“Yes, we brought you pictures.” Her dad pulled out a wad from his jacket pocket, handing them over to her. Lana flipped through them, many of her parents before the crystal-blue water and setting sun on a speckled beach. Some were of exotic birds, and Lana paused to examine these closer. “We thought you would like those, Lana.”
She glanced to meet her parents’ eyes. “You took these for me?”
“Of course. We knew your collection was running thin after all these bothersome doctor visits, so we decided to help you out.” Her mother’s smile was soft, kind.
Tears welled in Lana’s eyes, but she played them off as a yawn, wiping hurriedly at her eyes. “So, how are you both? You never told me how the test turned out.”
She saw her parents’ exchange glances. “Mine was negative but…” Her father looked away.
“Mom?” Her mother nodded sadly.
“You got it from me, dear.” And that’s when Lana saw the first sparkle of tears in her identical bronze-colored eyes. “I should have gotten tested before…I just never thought of it as a risk…I’m sorry…” she stammered, her hands fluttering as she patted her daughter’s cheeks and forehead.
“It’s okay, mom. But are you…” Lana trailed off, piercing her eyes.
“No, I’m still in the safety zone but you—“ she cut off, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, her father’s arms around her shoulders. “Dr. Davidson said that you are still recovering from the flu.”
“Yes, but he says I’ll be all right. Another day and I’ll be able to go home.”
“That’s wonderful. How about you stop by after you leave and have dinner with us,” her father suggested, and her mother nodded enthusiastically. Lana stared at the two people in front of her as if they were strangers. She hadn’t been back home in her parent’s house in over six years. Her only contact between them had been by telephone, and even that was brief, maybe once every month or so. They were always off traveling around the world. They had no time for their only daughter.
Or so she thought.
She chewed her lip, an old habit when she had a tough decision to make. She knew it shouldn’t have been tough, considering that it was her parents, her flesh and blood. But still, she thought long and hard about it before answering.
“Mom and dad, that sounds great.”
******
Lana carefully spun the wheel of her small ebony black Ford Focus, her leather seats feeling odd against her bare thighs. She was dressed in a pair of cut-off shots and a green tank, her mind focused on only one thing: dinner with her parents later that night. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the thought of it. She hadn’t been invited to her parents in years, not even for the holidays. Not that it matter. They were usually gone on one of their adventures of the holidays to care much about Lana’s solitary Christmas mornings and Thanksgiving dinners with only her tabby-cat, JoJo, for company.
When she reached her modest condo, she entered and her cat ran to the door to greet her, his food bowl still partly full from her neighbor’s car. She reminded herself to call him when there was the sound of the doorknob jiggling. Surprised, she turned right back around and pulled it ajar. Her neighbor, her cat sitter for the week, Greg Turner, stood in the door, with a bowl of water. “Oh, Lana. Jeesh, I didn’t know you were home,” he started, pulling back his hand with the spare key between his fingers.
“That’s okay, Greg. I see that JoJo was well taken care of,” she remarked, itching the fur between her tabby’s two triangular ears.
“He was great. No problems,” Greg teased, as if speaking of a child rather than a six-pound cat.
“That’s good. Would you like to come in?” Lana suddenly noticed that he was standing awkwardly on her doorstep.
“Umm, I don’t know…”
“It’s okay. I was ready to put a pot of tea on. Like some? I know how much you like green tea.” She stepped back to let him in, and he obliged, setting the water bowl by the food one.
“Ah, sure, Lana,” he answered, collapsing into one of her stools. “So…how are you?” he asked.
Lana didn’t look up from the tea she was fixing. “Good. Doctor said that it was just a scare. Nothing serious.”
“Glad to hear it,” Greg answered, and Lana was surprised to hear a hint of compassion in his voice, as if he really cared for her.
“How’s the job, Greg?”
“Same old, same old. Chef’s was about to kill me yesterday when I prepared the wrong sauce for his special dish,” he grumbled. Greg was a cook’s assistant at one of the more prominent restaurants in the Princeton area.
Lana laughed. “Chef sure sounds like a ball of fun.”
“Oh, he is.” Lana looked up form the teapot, gazing at him with surprise. Then, Greg’s face split into a wide smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling in delight. Lana laughed in amusement, and Greg joined in. “How’s the job yourself?”
“Well, I guess I will have to see when I go in tomorrow. Boss was pretty upset when I took another week off.”
“But you couldn’t help it,” he defended.
“I know that. And you know that. But my boss doesn’t view an illness as an excuse.” Greg rolled his eyes. “And so, hopefully she doesn’t fire me.”
“She wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, yes she would.” Lana chuckled sadly. “But I guess it isn’t the best job in the world. I mean, I take photos for the local newspaper. Not exactly what I signed up for when I planned to be a photographer.”
“What did you want to do?” His question was innocent enough, but Lana was surprised at the earnestly, the way it seemed that her answer was important, like it actually mattered. Had Greg always talked to her like that, or had her near-death hospital experience opened her eyes?
“I wanted to be a photographer for the NatureLovers magazine.”
“Wow, ambitious. I hear they are really strict with their employees there.”
“Yeah, but I guess I wasn’t cut out for it.”
“They turn you down?”
“What do you think?” Lana hadn’t meant to lash out at him, but she did all the same, and Greg recoiled as if slapped.
“Well, something better might come along, Lana. You just have to keep believing.” He removed himself from the stool. “But I better go. Olivia is coming over for dinner.”
“Olivia?” Lana glanced up with interest.
“Yeah.” Greg shifted from foot to foot, his hands cupped behind his back. “I met her at the restaurant a few weeks ago. We’ve been dating, I guess. I invited her over for dinner tonight.”
Lana couldn’t ignore the pang of jealously, even if she felt absolutely no physical or emotional attraction to Greg. She just couldn’t help it. “Sounds nice. What are you cooking her?”
“Beef Stroganoff,” he mumbled softly. “You think she’ll like it?”
“She’ll love it,” Lana assured her. Then, they made their good-byes and Lana was left alone.
******
Later that night, Lana made an effort at her clothing choice. Dressing in tan slacks and a blue cashmere blouse her mother had bought her as a graduation gift, she pulled her hair into an elegant pony. Smearing some vanilla lip-gloss, she ran the mascara stick over her short lashes before dashing out the door, patting JoJo on the head before departing.
She guided her Ford Focus through the large city of Princeton, New Jersey and out into the countryside. The further she got to her hometown, the more the memories of it came back. She didn’t want to think of Charlie. She didn’t want to think of his kisses, his touch, his embrace. She wanted only to focus on the road, to concentrate all her efforts on not having a breakdown before she reached her parent’s house.
She was still slightly surprised that they had remained in the large, plantation-styled house with the green shutters and a red-painted door. The yard was small, the house modest, but she could see the little touches of her parent’s wealth in every little nook. Gold doorknobs, exotic furniture from their travels, steel appliances. It was everywhere, her parents’ money staring right back at her.
They had bough her the condo, paid for half of the furniture, even bought her the Ford Focus for last year’s Christmas present. It still bothered her every time she got into it that it wasn’t her car, it was her parents.
Another way of keeping her under their reins.
Pushing these thought’s aside, she allowed her mother to lead her into the dinning room. It was the same as when she was growing up, painted that romantic burgundy with a dark wood-paneled floor. A cabinet holding her mother’s china was set in one corner while ferns and other plants she couldn’t identify cluttered about the space. The table was set for—she blinked several times to make sure she saw right—six. Frowning, she turned to her mother, who she just now noticed was dressed for more than just a casual dinner with their daughter. She was dressed in high-waisted black pants and a flowing, purple silk sweater with an oval neckline. Her hair was curled and pinned into a fancy bun with loose tendrils. Lana had to admit that she looked younger than forty-eight.
That’s when her father entered, decked out in dark-washed jeans and a handsome, mossy green sweater that assessed his still-trim body. His hair was combed and styled casually, though it must have taken him at least twenty minutes to do. He smiled happily at her as he set a plate of steaming green bean casserole onto the glossy oak surface. Lana instantly felt underdressed in her slacks and sweater, even if it was cashmere. “Is that the sweater mother gave you?” her father abruptly asked, eyeing the sweater with sudden enlightenment.
“Oh, yes,” Lana mumbled, tugging feebly at it.
Her mother peeked her head around the wall and beamed. “Oh, it still fits you perfectly. Beautiful color on you.” Her father nodded in agreement before retreating back into the kitchen to help his wife. Lana still was struggling to come up with a way to ask her parents who their other dinner guests were.
She finally opted for the abrupt approach.
“Who else is coming?” Lana asked nonchalantly, perching herself in a cushioned stool pushed up against the blue-gray granite counter.
Her mother’s eyes twinkled. “That’s a surprise, Lana.”
“Surprise?”
“Yes. We wanted to welcome you back home with a little family reunion.” Lana breathed a sigh of relief at her father’s announcement. It was probably just her aunt and uncle up for the weekend with their son…Jeff? Lana couldn’t remember.
“That’s nice,” she said, spinning slowly around in her stool. “You want some help?” she offered.
Her mother just shook her head. “No, you just sit there and try not to get yourself sick again.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “Mom, it was just a flux, a scare. That’s all. I’m fine.” Her mother chose not to answer when the doorbell suddenly rang. Three pairs of eyes—two gold, one hazel—stared together at the red-painted door. “I’ll get it,” her father announced, straightening his sweater. Lana felt a sickening feeling enter her stomach and knew, even after what her parents said, that it wasn’t her aunt and uncle behind that door. She held her breath, her mother hurrying around the kitchen to clean up. Lana stood rooted to the stool, unable to tear her eyes away from the door. She watched, as if in slow motion, as her father opened the door to reveal a couple out on the stoop. They were older than her own parents, both dressed nicely with a silk blouse on the woman and a gold wristwatch on the man. Lana squinted, unable to recognize them. Her father opened the door for them and then, stepping through the threshold came the third guest.
Lana felt her world tilt on its axis and everything she thought she knew was thrown right out the window. Standing there was a man her age dressed in fraying jeans and a polo tee with a leather jacket pulled over, his mossy brown-green eyes widening at the sight of her as well. That’s when she knew that seeing her was as much a surprise for him.
“Lana, you remember Mr. and Mrs. Boon and their son, Charlie.”
Of course she knew them. How could she forget that face, or those eyes, or that pair of lips. The bottom of her stomach vanished and she realized the obvious.
She was still in love with Charlie Boon.
