Chapter 49

Chapter 49
I wish things were easier than that. Not having to think about medication. Surgeries. Or seeing him in some kind of induced coma because the doctors keep finding health problems and are afraid he'll collapse if they wake him up. I wish I hadn't become some kind of Zombie who commutes between work and the hospital with coffee in hand. I don't want to leave him alone even when Ted's friend is running tests and talking to me in medical terms and all I understand is that this isn't the first heart attack but the second, that no one bothered to tell me that my dad has health problems and that while I was in jail waiting for the judge's hearing, he was in the hospital. If he was alone then, now I have to be with him. I don't even feel like it's a choice. I grip the cardboard cup tighter in my hand and lean against the wall opposite the bed.

"You can't function on just coffee, you know," Elio Torielli warns me.

My dad's doctor is Italian and has a weird accent. He's in his forties and Ted tells me he was one of those child prodigies you hear about on TV who graduated from high school way before he should have. Some kind of genius or something. He doesn't look like a genius. He looks like a tired man with a vision problem, he wears glasses although he assures me his eyes are fine so I don't see the point. He looks like the kind of guy raised by Aunt Cat, honestly, with his hand-knit sweaters and worn jeans. Like he's been wearing them since he graduated college.

"Prove it," I challenge him.

His fee is reasonable though. He could at least get some new jeans for the sake of his chosen profession. To look presentable. I don't think I've ever seen a doctor who doesn't wear a shirt 24/7.

"Do you want me to write a thesis about this? About how coffee doesn't nourish you at all? I understand that you have some problems with... Nutrition," hesitate.

"I had."

"You don't look very healed. I don't think I've seen you eat since I've been here."

"I don't eat in public," I confess.

"Ah. And do you think this phobia of yours is healthy?"

"It seems to me that it's none of your business, I cut him off quickly. You're being paid for something else."

"Technically speaking, you haven't paid me yet."

I know. I talked to Mina. I did some field research, as they call it. Mina says we're going hunting. I just see one more sin, one more reason why I should rot in jail. Stealing. I haven't done that yet but I guess I can check it off the list tomorrow morning. If all goes well of course. I wonder if he's putting off the surgery because he hasn't received anything yet. If he's stalling or if he just has to wait for the machines and what the hell is he talking about. I feel like I don't understand half of what he's saying and the half that I do understand are just thrown-away names and conjunctions.

"You should have the money in your account by Monday. The full amount. Tuesday at the latest."

That's what Rory tells me. That if I bring her a suitcase, which she says contains valuable items, she will make the transfer. Monday or Tuesday the doctor will have the money in his account. I'm surprised that Rory somehow managed to keep most of what he stole. And I wonder how.

"I was kidding. It's no problem. I trust Theodore and you seem like a girl of your word. Eat something though. I don't think your father would appreciate you going on a hunger strike."

My father is too sedated to say his opinion. Crazy.

"I think Travis is a better husband than I deserve, I find myself grumbling to him. I know he's not your favorite man but he wants us to move in together, as soon as you get better, at home. He knows I want to be near you and he's willing to share my room with me to please me. My bedroom is half his kitchen, I laugh. I feel like I don't deserve him at all, I sit down next to him and drink some coffee. My mom's been in the area lately too. It's been like… Like before. I don't know. I don't know what to think. Get well and… Help me. Help me, I beg him and wipe away my tears before they fall."

I feel like I want to strangle myself. Or like my arteries are narrowing. Like there's no more air in my lungs. I feel like I'm full.

"Am I disturbing you?"

I finish my coffee when I look at Hades. He recognizes me. I realize it when he comes in with two cardboard cups in his hand. More coffee. I let him in. I call him closer. He remains standing next to me.

"Thanks, I'll get the coffee. What are you doing here?"

"Uhh? Ahh, do you want me to leave?"

"No. No, stay, I answer too quickly so he doesn't understand that I'm desperate for company. Travis won't be here today. He's out of town with David."

"I know. I wouldn't have come if I risked running into him."

"Why not? I laugh softly. He's your friend in the same way that I am your friend. And you visit your father."

"You don't know, he understands and pulls up a chair for you. He noticed that… That day you left your bra and corset with me. You never took them back. He noticed they were missing and had an idea."

"What kind of ideas? I frown because I don't understand them right away."

"That kind of idea, she lifts her blouse and shows me some bruises. I'm fine, she quickly assures me. I honestly deserved it. If only he knew what I wanted to do to you..."

I still don't think it's right for him to do this. Especially since we haven't had a conversation. I could have explained it to him. Hades and I haven't done anything wrong. We haven't gotten to do anything wrong. He puts his hand on my shoulder and that's it. I close my eyes. I feel like a sinner. Why? It's pretty simple. Because my dad is next to me and I should be thinking about him when all I do is think about Hades, his hand, how my skin burns. With Hades it's always been about fire. Maybe because he's closer to hell, because hell itself lives in his soul. Maybe because he has a dog that guards his gates. Or because...

"Medusa"