We woke all tangled up together. Cool air came in the window. Dylan’s arm stretched across me. I moved slowly so I wouldn’t wake him. My shirt was cold and damp and made me grimace when I slipped it on. I stuffed my bra in my purse. Dylan woke as I was putting on my jeans.
“Are you running away?” he said. Half of his face was still in the pillow. I leaned over him.
“No, but I do have to go.” I said. His arm reached out to me. I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Stay.” he murmured. His hand ran up my arm and pulled me to him.
“I can’t.” I kissed the side of his face and got up. “I’ll call you later.” Dylan watched wordlessly as I left the room and shut the door behind me.
I ran the six blocks back to Cora’s, taking deep, gulping breaths as I went. Once inside, I turned on the shower, stripped off my damp clothes and stepped under the torrent of hot water. I continued to cry deep heaving sobs as the water washed them from my face. I leaned against the tiled wall and cried until my insides were empty. My emotions were a tangled mess. Eventually, because I had no other choice, I stepped out and dried myself with a towel. The mirror reflected my movements I was forced to take a good look at myself.
My skin was fair and slightly freckled but it was glowing. I dropped the towel and inspected my body. I had definitely lost weight since I’d gotten here. I was thin. The outline of my ribs was just visible; my hipbones were easily located. My stomach was flat, and my breasts, although never huge, seemed smaller and more in proportion to the rest of my body. Maybe not quite ready to flaunt myself in a thong in Rio de Janeiro anytime soon, but all in all, it wasn’t too bad.
I had always been unsatisfied with how I looked. I wasn’t pretty enough, I wasn’t thin enough, I wasn’t tall enough. I just wasn’t enough. Period. Strange that in the midst of all this insanity, staring into this mirror, I was more at peace with what I looked like than I had ever been before. The thought of me standing out in those woods, taking off my clothes, made me smile a little. That was something I never would have done in my old life. I held my shirt up to my nose and caught a whiff of his cologne. I was so lost in my thoughts that what I didn’t notice was Cora standing in the doorway of the bathroom watching me.
I screamed and fell against the wall, pulling the towel around me. Her eyes held both anger and amusement at the same time. She didn’t move, only stared at me. She said nothing. Her arms were folded in front of her, her face twisted into an expression I hadn’t seen before and couldn’t read. She blocked the bathroom door with her body and for the first time since coming here I was truly afraid, almost fearful for my physical safety.
“Where were you last night?” The words were almost a whisper. I leaned against the tiled wall and clutched at the towel with both hands.
“My friend’s in the hospital. She was hit by a car, run down in the street.” It didn’t answer the question but it’s what came out of my mouth. My lips trembled a little.
“So you were at the hospital? All night?”
“She’s not in great shape. They’re watching her for signs of brain swelling.”
“Such a good friend.” Her voice was edged with sarcasm. She moved from the bathroom door back into the bedroom. “I came looking for you last night but you weren’t here. Then I saw you running across the yard a little while ago. I thought something was wrong.”
“Something is wrong. My friend, who I’ve known my whole life, was hit by a car.” The bathroom was a cage and I instinctively repositioned myself in the living room edging towards the French doors.
“And you love this friend that much?” she asked.
“Of course I do. We’re like sisters.”
“Ah. Like sisters. And it’s very painful to see her hurt?” I only nodded. “Then imagine if she were dead.” I felt a lump in my throat. She moved over to me. “And then multiply that by a hundred.”
“What are you saying?” Tears were in the corners of my eyes. Her face was right in front of me.
“And that’s what you should be feeling for Nick.” Her eyes flashed in anger. “Multiply it by a thousand and that’s how I feel about losing my son.” Her face, hard and livid, hung near mine. I flinched, preparing to be hit but it didn’t happen. Instead her voice softened, almost to a sing-song whisper. “Get dressed. It probably wasn’t right for me to barge in like this.”
She almost sprinted from the room. My legs shook and I had to hold onto the wall to steady myself. It took me almost a full half hour to calm myself down enough to get dressed. Cora was slowly losing control. She wasn’t exactly psychotic or delusional but her grasp on reality was waning. Her emotions were unstable, unpredictable. And there was some paranoia mixed in with it all. And underneath it all a seething, stewing anger. A very dangerous combination. .