Who Blinks First
WHEN I next opened my eyes I had the same experience Bill had been having of late—I couldn’t figure out at first where I was. It is very difficult to wake up in a strange place and feel so lost and disoriented. Whenever it was, it was bright outside, and a lot of sunlight was coming in the windows of the lounge.
Trying to brush some of the sleep from my eyes, I sat up, and suddenly noticed that I was not alone. Much to my surprise, Bill sat in a chair a few feet away from me, seemingly just looking at me.
“Hi,” I said, not knowing what else to do or say in such a circumstance.
“Hi,” he said.
“Um, what are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Okay. How’d you find me?”
“Moira called your friend, and he told her where you were.”
“Well, I’ll have to have a talk with him,” I observed.
“I’m sorry,” Bill said.
“Why are you sorry?”
“For causing you such pain.”
“Seems to me that I’m the one who should be apologizing right now.”
“I love you,” he said, “more than I’ve ever loved anyone else my entire life. Thinking of you was all that kept me sane while I was in that hellhole. I can’t tell you how many times I nearly lost it. But thinking of you pulled me back together and helped me hold it all together for another day.”
“Sorry you had such a tough time over there. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t hear anything for weeks on end. Not a phone call, not a text message, not an e-mail, not even a smoke signal. Nothing. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. And then… then all I heard was that you… well, you know what I heard. That was the first word I’d seen or heard about you in weeks. Let me tell you—not a good way to live. I can’t do that again.”
“And I promise I’ll never put you in that position again.”
“Until the next time.”
“There will never be a next time. My movie career is over. Finished. Ended. Complete.”
“You can’t say that. What if they came back and offered you something bigger and better? You’d have to do it.”
“If anyone wants me to do any more acting, it would have to be on my terms.”
“And what are those terms?”
“I have to be home to sleep in my own bed with you every night—no exceptions.”
“I don’t think you get to dictate terms like that unless you’re a big star.”
“Then they don’t want me, because those are the terms.”
I nodded. We were both silent for a few minutes. “I missed you.”
He smiled. “I missed you too. Every day.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I said.
“Why?” he asked.
“I said some pretty awful things to you the other night.”
“And you had every right to, given what little information you had to go on.”
“I know, but I’m still embarrassed about what I said. I was really angry. I still am in a lot of ways.”
“You have every right to be angry. I’m angry too.”
“What are you angry about?”
“I’m angry about the whole mess. I’m angry for allowing myself to get talked into going away in the first place, and over the holidays especially. I’m angry at being separated from you with no way to communicate with you for so long. I’m angry that I left you alone with no idea of what was happening.”
“Okay. We’re both still angry. I don’t think we’re going to get over our anger right away. I think it’s going to take some time. It sounds like we’ve both got some wounds that need time to heal.”
“Can we go home?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got to go to class. I haven’t been kicked out of school. That would be you who isn’t a student any longer.” No, no bitterness in me.
He sighed. “I know.”
“Knowing doesn’t change it. You’ve lost your financial aid. You’ve lost your place. You need to reapply all over again now. You may never get such a sweet deal again.”
“I know,” he said glumly. “If you’re trying to cheer me up, you’re not doing a very good job of it. When do you finish class today?”
“One o’clock.”
“Then are you coming home?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I start work at two o’clock. We have to pay the rent, buy food, put gas in the car, things like that. And I have to pay tuition for the next quarter.”
“Since I won’t be in school for the remainder of this quarter, I’ll find some work to bring in some money.”
I didn’t say anything but simply nodded. Looking at my watch, I saw that my class started in five minutes. “Oh, crap, I’m gonna be late.” I shoved my feet in my shoes, grabbed my backpack, and raced down the hall to drop off Slatter’s pillow. Bill ran with me all the way across the campus. Part of me still didn’t entirely believe that he was back.
I arrived at the door to the class one minute late, but it appeared that the professor was even later than I was so I was actually okay. Or so I thought. Panting, I started to step into class when Bill stopped me and wrapped his arms around me, giving me a hug that I’d needed and missed for weeks and weeks and weeks. And I lost it. The tears came out of nowhere, and I couldn’t stop them. I put my arms around him and simply cried. And he cried, and I don’t want to think about what everyone around us thought.