chapter twenty-eight

~Nocturnal Dissonance~

Fluorescent lights cast an eerie yellow haze over the white jackets floating in and out of the waiting room. Susie saw herself, from a distance, crouching on a plastic-coated chair beside Evan’s mom. It was dark, even with the lights. The sunlight was missing. She wasn’t used to being awake so late at night. Or so scared. She had never before been so scared.

An intense flash shook her insides. The following crash of thunder shook her chair. Or maybe it was her imagination.

Diane looked toward the window. “The storm is close tonight, isn’t it?” She wrapped an arm around the child.

Susie pulled away. She didn’t want to feel that trapped. She wanted to go see her mom. But she wouldn’t ask. Her dad had instructed her to sit still and be good until he came for her. It had been forever ago when it was still light outside.

Branches made shadows against the wall during every lightening crash. The rain pounded against the windows. Susie wrapped herself into a ball, feet pulled up on the chair, arms squishing her legs, head down, faced away from the awful dark windows.

She jumped at another thunderbolt. It was louder. She wondered if it would shake the building to the ground.

“It’s all right, Honey. It’s only thunder. It’ll go away soon.”

She heard the words but they were no comfort.

“I’m going to call and check on the boys, okay? I’ll be right over there.” Diane pointed to a far wall.

Susie nodded and returned her head to her knees. The boys. She’d heard her dad talk about Diane’s boys like she should know who he meant. She didn’t. Her dad knew them; that much she could tell, but if she knew them, she didn’t realize it. She saw Diane only because she came to her house to talk to her mom, but Diane was always by herself. She never brought her boys.

The creak of the door made her look up, hoping for her dad. It wasn’t. It was just another white jacket, but this one looked at her, then went to Diane. Diane hung up the phone and talked to the man. Diane pushed her hands against her face, dropping her head. Susie’s stomach started to hurt. But she stayed still. Her dad had told her to sit still and be good. He wasn’t calm like he always was. He barely looked at her while leaving her in the waiting room. He was upset. Her mom had been crying when they took her away in a wheelchair. She said it wasn’t time for the baby yet.

The man in the white jacket kept talking to Diane. Diane wiped at her face. She was crying, too. Then she looked over at Susie. It made her stomach hurt more. The man looked at her again, too, touched Diane’s arm, then went back out the creaky door.

Diane crossed the room, sat next to her, and brushed a hand through her hair. “Your dad will be here soon, Honey.”

Susie looked at the tears running down Diane’s cheeks. Something made her want to cry, too, but she didn’t. Her dad was coming soon. She didn’t want to upset him more.

Soon turned into a long time. Thunder kept making her flinch but she began to ignore it. Diane continued to wipe at her eyes and her nose. Susie pulled her arms in tighter. She sat longer, saying nothing, then let Diane escort her into the bathroom down the hall. Returning to her seat, Susie went back to her position. Her legs hurt from holding them there.

The door creaked again. Her dad. She ran to him and he picked her up, squeezing her, holding her head against his shoulder.

“I was a good girl, Daddy. I sit still.”

He squeezed harder. “Of course you were.”

“Can we go see Mommy now?”

His head dropped on top of hers. He was quiet. Then he went to sit in a chair, sitting her on his lap. “Sweetheart….” His voice stopped. His eyes turned away. “I want you to go home with Diane now, okay?”

“I want to see Mommy.”

“Baby….”

“I was good, Daddy.”

“Oh, Baby, I know.” He stroked her head. “You know your mommy … was having a hard time. With the baby.”

“My sister. Mommy said I could have a sister.”

“Yes. Your mommy was right.” Her daddy’s voice was shaky like the thunder. “She had a little girl.”

Susie raised her head. “Now? Mommy said it was too early.”

He swallowed, hard. She saw his throat move. “The baby is very little. We can’t play with her.” He looked away again. His chest moved out and in. “Sweetheart, your mommy is gone. It was too hard….” Tears fell from his eyes.

She couldn’t keep from crying herself now. Her dad didn’t cry. Never. Her mom had talked to her, told her she had to be strong for her dad if she didn’t get to go home again. But she didn’t feel strong. “I want to see Mommy.”

“Sweetheart….”

“I want to see Mommy!”

Diane moved to sit beside them, talking to her dad quietly.

“I don’t want to go home. I want to stay with you, Daddy. I want to see Mommy.”

Diane said something else. Susie couldn’t hear.

Her dad rubbed her head again. “Okay. We’ll go say goodbye to Mommy first. Then I want you to go home with Diane. She’ll take you to her house, okay?”

The BANG of thunder tightened her grip on her dad, pushing her face into his neck. But he wasn’t there. Confused, she raised her head again. It was dark — not even the waiting room lights revealed where she was. Lightening pierced through the room. It wasn't the waiting room. She saw … a dresser, a television … and a faint glow from … from the bathroom light she had left on. The hotel.

Thunder pulled her eyes to the heavy curtain that concealed the window, but not the light from the storm, or the sound of the rain hitting the glass. She sat up, pulling the big comforter with her. The hotel. She wasn’t seven. She was … an adult, and still terrified of storms, of the nightmares reminding her…. Pushing a hand through her hair, Susie forced deep breaths. The lightening, along with the recurring memory, upset her stomach, as it had then. She had to relax, sleep. Jumping at a noise that seemed on top of the roof, she huddled into that same position, knees pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around. She was being childish, seven again, and couldn’t stop it.

The light from the bathroom cast a glow against the door that adjoined her room to Duncan’s. What time was it? The blurred glow of the alarm clock read 3:47. She couldn’t wake him. Making herself lie down again, she pulled the comforter up around her neck, covering part of her head but not her face. She couldn’t cover her face. Her eyelids attempted to block out the storm.


She saw her dad, pulling her away from her mom, kissing her head, telling her it would be all right. And trying to send her with Diane. She wouldn’t go. She had to see her sister.

He allowed it, with the doctor’s permission. She faintly remembered hearing about an only chance.

She held her baby sister with her dad helping to support her head. The tiny head. Susie was amazed at how tiny a person could be. And then they took her away again, pushed Susie and Diane out of the room.

Susie sat up. She couldn’t deal with lying down, having the memory continue to flood into her brain. Again, she looked at the door. Tensed with louder thunder, she got up, shuffled through her clothes to find her shorts and pulled them on. She didn’t care about the time or that she had nothing under her long T-shirt. The storm didn’t sound like it was even considering trying to end.

Pulling her side of the double door open, she knocked and waited. They wouldn’t hear her through the storm. She tried again, harder. It was too late … early. They were too tired. She considered going back to bed, turning on the lights and trying to read. Maybe that would work, keep her mind distracted. The door opening startled her. She hadn’t expected it.

Evan touched her arm, asked if the storm woke her. He knew it would. Maybe that’s why he’d heard her knock.

Duncan’s voice came from the distance, asking what was wrong, if she was okay. He’d been asleep. She could hear it in his voice. The light was brighter in his room, illuminating the bare skin of his chest. He was wearing only a pair of shorts. Evan lowered his hand, allowing her boyfriend to take over. Susie wrapped herself around him, burying her head, not letting his near nakedness deter her need for his arms.

“Babe, wha’ is it?” He held her in. She didn’t answer.

Evan’s voice broke the silence behind them, telling his buddy it was the storm. She didn’t like storms. She wondered if he remembered why she didn’t.

“I’ can no’ be jus’ the thunder. Ev, she is shakin’. Babe, wha’ is wrong?”

Susie shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted it pushed out of her memory. Evan’s voice told her it was almost over. It was moving away. He had been listening to it, wondering if she was awake.

He touched her arm again. “Stay here. Take my bed, Suse. I’ll stay in your room.”

She looked over at him. Grateful, and hoping he knew she was. She couldn’t tell him.

Evan disappeared into the dim light of the other room. Duncan led her further inside his, not closing the doors in between. She sat at the edge of the nearest bed.

He sat beside her. “I’ is no’ jus’ the storm is it?”

She shook her head.

“Do y’ wan’ t’ talk?”

Another negative, silent.

“Y’ should try t’ sleep, then. It’s another early mornin’ tomorrow.”

Finally, she faced him, avoiding his stare. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I feel like an idiot.”

“I am glad y’ woke me. Glad t’ know y’ would.” He touched her hair. “Or were y’ lookin’ for Ev?”

“No.” She met his eyes. No, not this time, she wasn’t. “I was looking for you.”

Duncan kissed her head and motioned for her to lie down. The bed was still warm. He pulled the comforter around her and sat at the edge. The lightening had less effect with one of the room’s lamps switched on. The thunder didn’t come as fast. Evan was right. It was going away. And Duncan was beside her, guarding her, distracting her. She loved how smooth his chest was, and how compactly muscular. At the beach, Susie’d had trouble keeping her focus on his face. And she was now.

He caught her staring. It showed in his eyes, when she made it back to see them.

Embarrassed, she pulled hers away.

He leaned in closer, bending over her, a strong arm supporting him, and kissed her. Then he moved back, standing. “Can y’ sleep now?”

She nodded, keeping her thoughts on him even with her eyes closed.