Seeing Red (8 page)

Oliver looked at Alexander and looked at Jill. He
seemed to grasp what she said. Oliver looked as if he were in
awe.

“Uh, that’s what I meant. She obviously articulated
it better.” Oliver grinned.

Alexander turned his head away, kissed the palm of
Jillian’s hand, and cupped his cheek with her large hand in a very
gentle cathartic way as if he were soothing his pain away with her
hand. “Thank you, guys. I love you both very much. I am going to
get better. You’ll see.”

“Are you okay, Xander? You don’t look so good. Well,
worse than you did when we walked in here? You’re really pale.”
Oliver touched Alexander’s forehead that was now covered in
sweat.

“No. I’m not feeling well. Can you call a nurse,
please?”

Jill pressed the button for the nurse, and a moment
later, she came in and asked them to step out. After ten minutes,
she came out. As they were about to step back in, the nurse stopped
them. “Mr. Jacobs asked to be alone. He’s not feeling well. Why
don’t you come back tomorrow?”

“What?” Oliver asked.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jill asked.

“He’s having withdrawals and a lot of nausea. It
will be a rough day for him. It’s not pretty to be in heavy
withdrawals.” The nurse said, blocking the door.

“More the reason we should be with him. He shouldn’t
be alone. What if he needs to throw up or gets dizzy and falls or .
. .”

“Ma’am, he’s not alone. He’s in the hospital, and
we’re here for that specific reason. Y’all need to go home and
respect his wishes.”

She walked away, leaving a startled and angry Jill
and Oliver. They went into the waiting room in a confused daze and
sat quietly. “Let’s wait a little while and give him some time, and
we’ll ask again. Maybe a different nurse will be on duty.”

Jill just nodded.

Two hours later, they were still not allowed in.
“Look,” a nurse pointed, “it’s right here on his chart: ‘no
visitors.’ He specifically requested to be left alone. Go home. We
have your number and will call you if there is any change.”

Jill and Oliver walked out of the hospital, unsure
of what had just happened.

“Let’s check into a hotel and have some dinner, and
we’ll come back tomorrow.”

Jill just nodded.

“Are you okay, Jill?”

She shrugged. She felt sad. “I just thought that
maybe I’d made some sort of difference. I thought he was listening
to what I was saying. Do you think he really just felt sick all of
a sudden, or did we just get the boot?”

“I’ve got no idea, baby.” He grabbed her hand, held
it till they reached the car, and helped her in. She got in the car
in a zombie-like state. Two days ago she was in DC, happy and
excited about starting school. Now, she was in El Paso, Texas,
having just attended the funeral of her mother, or the closest
thing to a mother she’d known, giving an anti-drug speech to
Alexander, who turned around and kicked her out of the room after a
long seven-hour drive interrupted by a weird, sex motel
almost-kiss. Her life had just become surreal. Oliver sat on the
driver’s side and, seeing Jill’s motionless state, reached over
her, grabbed her seat belt, and buckled her in.

“Don’t shut down on me now, Jillian. I need you.
Xander needs you. You’re just tired. You only got a few hours of
sleep last night after having one of your—whatever they’re
called—spells? Let’s get to a hotel. You can take a nice hot
shower, and then we’ll get dinner, and afterward, you can sleep a
full eight hours. How does that sound?”

She shrugged.

He drove off.

Less than two miles away from the hospital was a
hotel. “Stay here, Jillian. I’m going to check us in.” She didn’t
respond. She just kept looking out her window.

Moments later, he came out of the hotel, opened her
door, reached around, unfastened her seatbelt, and helped her out
of the car. She was practically catatonic. He gave the valet his
car keys and the bellhop the number of their rooms. He put his arm
around her waist, and she put her head on his shoulder and walked
to the room, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions of the last few
days.

“I got two rooms. There were vacancies this time.”
He opened the door. “My room is right next door.” The bellhop came
in and dropped both bags and her purse in the room. Oliver gave him
a tip and closed the door. He helped Jill to the bed and sat next
to her. “Jillian, I need you to talk. I need to know you hear what
I’m saying. You haven’t said a single word.”

She nodded.

“Jillian, please say something. You’re scaring me.”
He grabbed her and hugged her.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Huh?” He flinched. Obviously not what he expected
her to say.

“He kicked us out of the room. He kicked us out
after we drove seven hours. And Helen? Helen’s gone! Helen’s gone,
and Alexander is in a hospital room, coping with his emotions by
drinking and shooting up. I can’t believe what a shitty week this
has become.” Her sadness was actually transforming into anger as
she spoke.

“Why don’t you go take a nice, long, soothing bath?
I’ll be right next door. Will you be okay by yourself for a little
while? If not, I’ll stay. I was just going to go take a shower and
a nap.”

“You’re a good brother, Oly. I’ll be fine. I’m just
furious. Thank you. Go. Take a nap. Come get me when you wake up,
and we can go grab a bite to eat. Let me know if he calls.” She
gave him a kiss on the cheek, closed the door behind him, and
headed straight to the bathroom to take a long hot bath.

Four hours later, Jillian stood on the other side of
Oliver’s door, knocking.

“Hey, come in.” He wore only his boxer shorts again.
He looked groggy as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
Her head felt dizzy, and she got flustered when she saw him
shirtless. It seemed to be a recurring reaction to his bare
chest.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s 9 p.m. I
thought I’d take a little catnap, but when I woke up, it was dark
out, and I’m starving.”

“Give me a minute.” He yawned and stretched his arms
and legs, causing all the muscles in his body to contract; she got
a good view of the movie again. It was as if she had 3-D glasses
and the movie had suddenly been upgraded. If only she had a chair
and a bowl of popcorn, she could sit and watch this movie all day.
He went to his bag, grabbed the jeans and the shirt he wore before,
and got dressed. “Okay, let’s go feed you,” he said with a big
drowsy smile.

They ate at a nearby all-night diner and sat and
talked for over two hours. Mostly, they talked about Helen: how
great she had been to them and how she took such good care of them
on the island. They reminisced about Onion Island, mostly laughing
and remembering the crazy things that they did that would have been
outlawed in the States, like allowing kids to climb ten-foot trees
at five years old or go swimming in shark-infested waters or
wandering the jungles of an island for hours . . .

“So I have a question. You said so yourself you
saw
an argument, which you witnessed live about five hours
ago. Why are you always surprised when your visions come true? You
knew that we would argue.”

She thought about it for a moment, trying to figure
out how to best explain it. “I don’t know. I think it’s because I
don’t always know what it is that I see. Sometimes I see things
clear as day, but not this time. This time, I only sensed an
argument. I didn’t really know whether it was an argument between
you and Xander or between us and Xander. In fact, I’m still not
really even sure if we had an argument with Xander or if he just
was feeling unwell.”

“So you know something is going to happen, but you
don’t always know what it is?”

“For the most part.”

He changed the subject again and continued to talk
about the island. This connection with another person is what she
craved and was the reason she agreed to stay when Alexander asked.
These were experiences that no one else could possibly understand
but her twins.

It was close to midnight when they arrived back at
the hotel. “I had a great time tonight, Oliver. I almost forgot the
shitty last few days. Thank you.” He looked as if he were in
physical pain; Jillian could tell he wanted to kiss her. The
almost-kiss from the previous night still lingered in the front of
their minds.

“Anytime, baby. Sweet dreams.” He leaned forward,
and she turned her head so that the kiss landed on her cheek—which
she could tell, by his grim expression, was not his intention. But
he didn’t stop. He opened his mouth, and even though it was only a
kiss on the cheek, it was long, lingering, and sexually-charged.
Her body stiffened. She was too emotionally drained to go down this
path tonight. Her body would definitely betray her if she didn’t
walk—no, run—inside her room immediately.

“Good night, Oly.” As hard as it was for her to do,
she pulled away. She wanted to assure him that she was not
rejecting him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but not
tonight, or maybe not ever, but it was not for lack of desire. She
opened the door to her room and went in without looking back. After
closing the door, she threw herself on the bed, frustrated.

The next few days were a mix of waiting, pacing, and
feeling angry. Jill tried to keep a slight distance from Oliver to
avoid the sexual tension that lingered, but in actuality, it was
building up more and more. They did not repeat the attempted kiss
nor talk about it. She knew that he was trying to give her some
space. He was probably waiting for her to make a move. The mutual
electricity between them was undeniable. By the third day, the
awkwardness had significantly alleviated, and they fell back into
their normal banter. By the end of the week, Alexander was to be
released. They still had not been able to see him. When they got to
the hospital, Alexander was gone.

“What do you mean he isn’t here?” Oliver
demanded.

“He checked himself out and said he would check
himself into rehab. He asked that the location of the rehab remain
confidential. Sorry, but that’s all I can say.” She walked
away.

Oliver punched the nearest wall. “I can’t believe
it. He left. Fuck!”

Jillian dialed Alexander’s number, but the call went
straight to voicemail. “Alexander Jacobs! Where the hell are you?
You left? We’ve been waiting. You need to call me back, right now!
You need to tell me where the hell you are. We’ve been worried sick
about you, and we deserve the courtesy of a damn phone call.”

“He’s not going to call back, Jillian.”

“I know.” Jill sighed. “I have to be on a plane
Sunday morning. I need to go back to San Antonio to get my stuff.
It’ll take us most of the day today to get back, and tomorrow is
Saturday.”

“Okay. Let’s get you home.” He replied, looking
defeated. There was not much else they could do.

“Home.” She mumbled underneath her breath. Where was
home? She would make her dorm at Georgetown her home for the next
four years. Her entire life, home had been transient. She hoped
things would change because, right now, she felt lost. She felt
homeless. When Jillian left boarding school a few days before
driving to DC, she had realized that her home of the last seven
years had never felt like home. Nothing had felt like home except
her years on the island. Now, she was an adult and would do her
best to make Washington, DC her home. She was going to leave Texas
with a new take on life: a determination to study hard and set up
roots in Washington, DC. She was determined to make friends and to
succeed.

The drive back to San Antonio was long. She was
hyperaware of Oliver’s hand on her lap and the occasional hand
holding or brushing aside a stranded curl. They talked about her
move to Georgetown and about Oliver’s internship. There were a lot
of moments of comfortable silence. They knew each other well enough
not to have to fill the void of the silence with inane
conversation. This time, they didn’t stop. They drove straight to
San Antonio, arrived at Oliver’s apartment Friday night, and went
straight to sleep in their respective rooms. The next morning, they
had a late breakfast together. She did some laundry and packed her
bags for the trip the following morning. Saturday evening, instead
of going out for dinner, Oliver ordered Italian food.

“So, what a week, huh?” Oliver stated.

“It sure was. I’m sorry that you have to go through
all this with Xander, but I hope you make an effort to live your
life and go on your internship. At least he’s in rehab.”

“I suppose.”

His hand was on the table, and she placed her hand
on his. “I’m going to miss you, Oly. It’s going to be different
this time, I think.” It was more of a question than a
statement.

“Yep. We’ll write at least once a week? And we won’t
go seven years without seeing each other?”

“It’s a deal.” she squeezed the top of his hand, and
he smiled affectionately. There was a melancholic feel in the
apartment.

“I’ll miss you, Jillian. Really miss you.”

“Me too, Oly. Me too.” They picked up the kitchen
and went to bed—separately. The next morning before she left, she
looked around the room—Alexander’s room—and felt a pang of
sadness.

She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

Xander,

I’m sorry we couldn’t spend time together. You’ve
always been my best friend. Even with the distance of seven years,
I’ve never felt you were far away. The memories we had on the
island are memories that I will treasure forever. They’re the
memories that make me the happiest. I think about you all the time.
I think about you when I hear or see something funny, and I think
of what your reaction would be. You push me to be the best because
I always think that if I’m not the best, at whatever I ‘m doing,
you’ll somehow know and then you’ll beat me—and you know that I
can’t let you beat me! You’re competing with me even when you don’t
know you are. Please take care of yourself and of Oly. He loves you
so much, as do I. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. Make me proud,
Xander. Do something great with your life.