Room 702 (26 page)

Caroline didn’t buy it.
 
While she did believe her friend deserved to be treated like a princess, she didn’t trust Henry was genuine in his behavior.
 
She assumed he was the type who would have no issues ‘trading in’ for a new model of Joan in a few years and after children one and two had been born.
 
Sure, she would get decent alimony, but Caroline believed Joan deserved more.

“She’s resting comfortably.”
 

“Did she get the flowers?”

“Yes, they were waiting here for us.”
 

“How do they look?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Good.
 
How about the food?
 
I know my Jaye likes her sweets.”

Caroline cannot imagine a world where someone who’s just had surgery would have enough of an appetite or coordination to stuff her face full of carbohydrates, but tries to remind herself it’s the thought that counts.
 
She answers, “Yes, I’m sure when Joanie wakes up tomorrow she’ll love them.”

Joan’s name is another point of contention between them.
 
Upon moving to Los Angeles, Joan, in her pursuit of acting, had changed her name.
 
Jaye is a unique moniker, but Caroline has always preferred to call her friend by her real name.
 
Henry however, was introduced to her roommate as Jaye and continues to call her by this name.
 

Unable to think of any further reason to stay on the phone with this man, Caroline asks politely, “How is your conference going?”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay, well, if she wakes up, I’ll have her call you.”

 
“Thanks.”

Caroline gladly ends the call and then scrolls through the numbers on Joan’s Blackberry.
 
Finding the number she’s looking for, she dials the number and says, “Hey Mom!”

“Caroline?
 
How’s our girl doing?”

“She’s a survivor, she’s sleeping it off right now.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.
 
I still have to wonder why she would want to do this surgery.
 
The Lord gave her such a nice body.”

Although perhaps Caroline and Joan’s mother did not see eye to eye on all topics, Caroline did believe that the older woman genuinely cared for her daughter.
 
Mrs. Felton came to visit at least twice a year and had more or less adopted Caroline into the family.
 
Before Henry entered the picture, Caroline had been home with Joan for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

“He did.”

“I just wish we had been able to talk her out of it.”

Caroline and Joan’s mother had waged a silent war on two fronts to try and have Joan not go through with the surgery.
 
In the end, however, they were both unsuccessful.

“Me too.”

“I know you both told me all this before, but what happens next?
 
I hear the word ‘surgery’ and just about have a panic attack.”

Caroline patiently walks the older woman through all that was to be expected and Mrs. Felton says, “It means the world to me that you are there with her.”

“Of course I’m here, but don’t you think Henry should be the one with her?
 
Aren’t they going to be ‘in sickness and in health’ and all of that?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joanie’s father passed out in the delivery room when she was born.
 
Men can just be useless.
 
Plus, I think he’s more interested in the ‘final product’ if you know what I mean.”

The pair discusses some of the other points of the upcoming wedding and ends the conversation.
 
Caroline lights another cigarette and wonders what Joan’s mother would think about her crush on her daughter.

No doubt Mrs. Felton would not approve.

As much as Caroline has tried to get Mrs. Felton to admit that Henry is wrong for Joan, she hasn’t been able to make it happen.
 
From more humble beginnings than Caroline’s upper middle class, Caroline knows what Mrs. Felton sees in Henry.
 
He is a stable provider.
 
He has a home and a reliable income.
 
Mrs. Felton does not have to worry about her daughter once Joan becomes Mrs. Henry Katzman.

Yawning to herself, Caroline decides this day has been enough.
 
After eating a few more of the treats, she wanders back into the bedroom and slides in next to her peacefully breathing friend.

Caroline wakes up and wonders if she is still dreaming.
 
However even in her best dreams she’s never felt this comfortable.
 
Here in the suite at the Winchester, Joan is spooned against her, their smooth legs tumbled together.
 
Joan breathes peacefully, evenly in her ear.

All is right in the world.

How can Caroline give up on this?

While she recognizes it is impossible to force anyone to be gay or straight, she wonders if addressing her feelings is worth losing Joan’s friendship to see if her friend could ever be interested in her.
 
Joan snuggles in closer and Caroline is torn.
 
Looking at the clock, she sees it is time to have Joan get up and take some of her medication.
 

Whispering in her friend’s ear, warm breath tickling Joan’s face she says, “Joanie…”

“Don wanna getup.”

 
“You’ll feel better, I promise.”

“Owww….”

“What’s wrong, babycakes?”

 
Tears drip out along Joan’s eyelashes.
 
Keeping her eyes shut, she says, “It’s like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest.”

“The doctor said that was to be expected.”

“Why did I get double D’s?
 
My B’s were perfect!” Joan wails.

“I’m sure it’s just temporary swelling.
 
You just need to give your new boobs time.
 
It hasn’t even been a full day yet.” Caroline reaches across and grabs a bottle of water and the medication.
 
Unscrewing the cap to both, she taps out the appropriate number of pills and says, “This will make you feel better.
 
Open.”
 
Joanie dutifully responds, while Caroline pours some water in her friend’s mouth and watches her swallow.
 
Racking her brain to figure out something to make her Joanie feel better, Caroline asks, “Want me to wash your hair?”

“I can’t take a shower.”

“Come on, there’s a bath with a detachable shower head, we can get you cleaned up.”

“Can’t move, in too much pain.”

“Quit being melodramatic.
 
Given the meds time to work.”

As Joan tries to sits up very slowly, she asks, “Did Henry call?”

“Yes, but you were passed out.”

“Can we call him now?”

“I think it can wait until the morning.
 
Remember, he’s at a conference.”

Now fully sitting up, Joan says, “Will you help me to the bathroom?”

“Sure thing.”
 
Caroline moves to Joan’s side and gently moves her friend up to a standing position.
 
They half shuffle, half walk towards the bathroom, and after Caroline arranges a pile of towels and the robes to form a nest, she gently eases her friend to a sitting position next to the tub.

“This bathroom is really nice.”

“I know.”

“It’s better than ours at home.”

“Sure is.”

“Do you think my new bathroom will be okay?”

 
“I’m sure you can make it as nice as you want,” Caroline answers neutrally.

 
“What about Noodles?”

Noodles was their beta fish and the closest thing the highly allergic Joan could have to a pet.
 
An aquatic anomaly, the fish had survived through various earthquakes and even a brief dump in the toilet.

“I’ll take care of him.” Caroline answers as she slides down and sits next to her friend in the quiet bathroom.
 

 
“Who will take care of me?”

“Henry will, silly.”

“No, he won’t.”

Caroline isn’t sure how lucid Joan was, however, this moment is as clear as an opening as she is ever going to get.
 
She says quietly, “You can always come back to me and Noodles.
 
But don’t worry, your new home will be lots of fun.
 
I’ll even bring him over for visits.”

Looking away, Joan says, “That’s just it.
 
I don’t want my new home.
 
I want our home.”

 
“Do you mean that?”

“I think so.
 
I miss you more than I miss Henry.”

 
Not daring to take a breath, Caroline reaches out and grabs her friend’s hand.
 
Trying to keep her voice light, she answers, “I’m really glad to hear you say that.”

“And he’s not here…” Joan starts to cry.
 
“He puts me through this pain and torture.”

Caroline puts her arm around Joan’s shoulders and holds her friend tight.
 
Fighting a guilty conscience, she says, “You know he wanted to be here.
 
He just had to be somewhere for business.”

“And he knew you would pick up his slack!
 
Don’t think I haven’t noticed.
 
I know everyone thinks I’m dumb, but I notice things.”

“Still, I think in his own way that he does love you.”

Joan’s delicate hands brush her now enlarged chest and she answers, “Apparently, he just loves a more enhanced version.”

Caroline has no more excuses for her friend’s fiancé.
 
Furthermore, she has no idea why she wants to defend him or his actions.
 
Stroking her friend’s hair, she asks, “So, what do you want to do?”

“I can’t go through with the wedding.”

Caroline still feels a tug of guilt.
 
In this moment of truth, where she could say everything, pour her heart out, the words won’t come.
 
Saddened at her own inability, Caroline sighs and replies, “I’m your friend, let’s wash your hair and get some sleep.
 
I’m sure everything will make more sense in the morning.”

With that Caroline gets up and arranges Joan’s hair.
 
Turning the faucet on, she adjusts the temperature and begins lovingly shampooing, then rinsing, then conditioning.
 
When she’s finished, she wraps a towel around Joan’s long blonde hair.
 
Joan, who has slipped into some sort of place between being awake and fully asleep, allows herself to be led back to bed.
 

“I’ll comb it out for you in the morning,” Caroline whispers, before tucking her friend in and climbing in beside her.

Exhausted from the emotional and physical ordeal the previous day, Joan sleeps later than her usual 8 A.M.
 
Caroline watches her friend sleep for awhile, then goes to the lounge and flips through the room service menu.
 
Calling the front desk, she proceeds to order all of Joan’s favorites: French toast, seasonal fruits, lots of crispy bacon, freshly squeezed orange juice and hot chocolate.
 
Although she isn’t sure what sort of appetite her friend will have, she wants to be ready.

A half hour later the food arrives and Caroline signs for the food, adding a healthy 20% tip.
 
After the bellhop departs, Caroline gathers the spread and arranges the food prettily on a plate, complete with some of the flowers Henry sent.

Knocking on the door and pulling open some of the curtains, she says cheerfully, “Rise and shine!”

On the best of days, Joan is not usually a morning person.
 
She mumbles and says, “Mmph.”

“I’ve got all your favorites.”

Still rolled over in a cocoon of blankets, Joan says in a muffled voice, “Is there lots of powdered sugar for the French toast?”

“Buckets.”

There is some rustling and then Joan emerges from her pile of blankets.
 
After good-naturedly chowing through a healthy stack of fried bread, she finally asks, “Did Henry call?”

“Not yet.”

“I should call him.
 
Do you know where my phone is?”

“Oh, it’s right here.”

Washing down her food with a long gulp of orange juice, Joan dials her fiancé and switches the line over to speakerphone so she can continue eating.

“Hey sugar bear!” Joan says as Henry comes on the line.

“How’s my baby girl?”
 

Already nauseated by their conversation, Caroline makes a move to leave, but Joan motions her to stay and pantomimes for her friend to help her eat the spread.
 
Not able to resist the bacon, Caroline stays quiet and picks up a piece.
 
Perhaps Joan has something important to share with Henry and wants her there for moral support.
 

“I’m still super sore.
 
I wish someone would’ve told me how much pain there would be.”

“Are you taking your medicine like a good girl?”

Caroline rolls her eyes, but Joan answers, “Caroline’s been taking care of me.”

“Good.”

Caroline perks up, perhaps this will be the moment Joan makes good on her comment from the night before.

“How is your conference going?
 
Will you still be home tonight?”

“Sorry baby girl, I’ll need to stay here another night.”

“Hmph,” Joan pouts.

“But I’ve already had my assistant call and book you two in for another night, so you can still rest comfortably.”

Caroline raises her eyebrows expectantly at her friend.
 
Their relationship is usually close enough they can have conversations without actually speaking, but in this case, Joan looks in the other direction.