Page 104 of No Place Like You

“Hey, Lucy.”

“Hey, Carmen.” I settle back into the cushions, dipping my hand back into the M&M’s and scooping a healthy handful.

“Uh, have you talked to Dexter recently?”

I freeze at the sound of his name. “Not recently, no.”

“Oh.”

“Why? What happened?”

I hear her hesitate, a few muttered words, unfinished and cautious, slipping through before she stays quiet. Has she heard something? Maybe some trail of gossip from Nat or Hayden made it all the way to her. Something that aligns with him being out and about with someone else. Someone prettier and who has her shit together and cleans up after herself.

“Carmen, tell me.” I brace myself for what she’s about to tell me with my heart pounding in my chest.

She sighs. “Okay, I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but I guess…Whatever.”

“What?”

“I’ve been seeing him here at the hospital.”

All the puzzle pieces start to finally fall into place. “Janet.”

“Yeah.”

“Of course,” I whisper. “God, I’m sostupid. How bad is it?”

“I don’t really know. I’m not her direct provider. And even if I was, I’m really not allowed to say,” she explains. “But he’s been here for a few weeks. Like, in and out, of course, but I’ve been seeing him pretty consistently for almost two weeks now.”

That’s why he had to cancel his trip.

“I gotta go.”

“Lucy—”

“I’ll call you,” I assure. “I promise I’ll call you soon.”

48

Dexter

My sister’s dying.

I’ve been trying to avoid the truth for such a long time, hoping this cancer isn’t as serious as it really is, focusing on the fact that my sister still laughs and tells jokes and teases me. Because that’s Janet. That’s who she is. So how can she be dying? How can someone so full of life, despite that life being sucked out of her, be dying?

The robotic beeping and flashing numbers remind me of this. As does the plastic breathing tube down Janet’s throat and the waxy appearance of her skin, now grayish and paper thin.

It didn’t matter that she was careful, or that she quit her job to focus on maintaining what little of her health she had left. She got sick. Again, and this time, she isn’t responding to the same treatments like she did the last time. It’s almost like she’s giving up.

“Any changes?”

I look up at the doorway where Charles stands. He’s been in and out of the hospital for the past two weeks, just like me, and I finally urged himto go home. To shower, to do anything besides be surrounded by the four walls we’ve been confined in. It was only a few hours he’d been gone, but it was enough time to cause a lingering stretch of anxiety to take over me.

I shake my head. “The nurses just came in, gave her some more meds. Said they’ll be back in a few hours, I guess.”

He takes the seat next to mine. “If you need to go home for a bit, maybe get some real food instead of the crap in the cafeteria…”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.”

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