I can’t stand being in a hospital. Just the smell of it makes me feel queasy. And the germs that could be lurking in the air, and on any surface. The germaphobe in me is on high alert. I’ve washed my hands so many times my skin is dry and raw.
Worry and bursts of crying wouldn’t let me rest or sleep and thankfully Ditra stayed on the phone with me almost all night long listening to my tearful tirade. I couldn’t stop replaying my entire history with Blue in my head. I analyzed every memory, every word spoken, every action and reaction. I’m sure I must have missed some big clue that should’ve set a bell off in my head that something was wrong, but I didn’t.
What I missed were hundreds of tiny clues. Some were cleverly hidden, and some were plain as day now that I’m looking for them, but not at all obvious at the time. The man I love with all my heart and soul was struggling in ways I can’t even comprehend and I had absolutely no idea it was even going on.
A lump of sadness and regret sits in my throat that I can’t swallow away. I let Blue down, I was blind and deaf to his pain, and I almost lost him.
How could I not know? What the hell was wrong with me?
Now I can’t help but wonder—was he ever really happy, or was it all some kind of mirage he created?
“You never truly know a person,” Ditra said last night. Maybe she’s right.
Over the years Blue and I have spent hours upon hours talking. We’ve touched each other in every way imaginable, been as close as two people can possibly be. I’ve tasted him, swallowed him, slept with him, woken with him. I’ve laughed with him and cried with him.
So how did this side of him slip through the cracks? Was I always too distracted with our relationship to notice? Did he purposely distract me so I wouldn’t see?
Reece and I meet up at the hospital at nine a.m., and the nurse can only tell us Blue is in stable condition because the doctor isn’t available to speak to us. We wait in the waiting room until noon, when Reece convinces me to walk down to the hospital café to grab something to eat. He admits to me over lunch that he also was up all night asking himself the same questions and beating himself up.
As we’re walking back to our designated waiting room, Reece stops short and stares at a woman standing in the main lobby of the hospital, who’s leaning over the reception desk.
“Ho-ly shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe she came.”
I squint at the woman with the long, jet black hair who looks vaguely familiar to me. She appears to be in her early fifties, beautiful and very well dressed, with an air of class and control about her.
“I want to see him right now.” I can hear her berating the nurse. “You get the doctor immediately. Do you know who I am? Who he is?”
“Who is that?” I ask Reece, glancing up at him. I know I’ve seen her before, but I cannot for the life of me place her face.
“It’s Ellie Von Bleu, the opera singer.”
I shake my head in confusion, not knowing who that is but of course I know that last name.
“Blue’s sister,” Reece adds, as if I should already know this.
My God. Suddenly it hits me. She’s the woman from the park I saw years ago. The one who Blue said he stopped to chat with. She gave Acorn a tennis ball.
The room spins and I lean against Reece for balance. I had no idea Blue had a sister. He never mentioned her—other than that day in the park when he described her as just a girl he talked to sometimes.
“He’s never mentioned her,” I say. “How does she even know he’s here?”
“I called her last night. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure she would actually come.”
I stare at him with mounting anger.
“You could’ve told me. Do I have to be kept in the dark about everything? I’m his fiancée and I have no idea what’s going on. Now relatives are coming out of the woodwork and I feel like an idiot.”
He blows out a breath of frustration. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to add more confusion to the mix if I didn’t have to. I told you, I didn’t think she’d show up. They haven’t seen each other in years.”
“You still should have told me. What is she going to think of me? I’m engaged to her brother and I wasn’t even the one who called her because I didn’t even know she existed!”
Taking my arm, he leads me across the lobby toward Ellie, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to her. This is the most horrible way to meet a future sister-in-law. She’s going to think I’m a total flake.
“Piper, trust me, she’s not going to think bad of you.”
She appears frustrated with the woman behind the reception desk, and turns in our direction as we near.
“Reece,” she exclaims with relief in her voice. “There you are. Do you have any news? I can’t get anywhere with these people.”
They embrace, and she kisses one of his cheeks, then the other.
“We’re waiting for the doctor. We just went to get something to eat.”
I stand next to Reece awkwardly, feeling lost and small. Ellie is tall and gorgeous, and she has Blue’s eyes, which are looking me up and down.
“You must be Piper,” she states. A flash of fear zaps through me. What if she blames me? I’m Blue’s fiancée—the one who should be making him happy. What if she thinks I’ve done something to Blue to make him miserable? People who are happily in love and planning a wedding don’t try to commit suicide. What if everyone is secretly blaming me? What if they’re right?
I swallow and nod, and she surprises me by pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheeks.
“How are you holding up? You look absolutely panicked.” She holds my hands in hers and searches my face with kindness on her own. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so young.”
“I’m not,” I reply. “I’m just really short.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “You’re adorable. I can see why Blue is drawn to you. Forgive my manners, I’m exhausted and stressed and I’ve been on a stuffy plane forever and this is all just so unexpected.” She looks up at Reece. “Although I guess it’s really not, is it? I mean, we all know Blue…”
Do we? Do any of us know Blue?
We go to the waiting room together to wait for the doctor. Koler and Vic, who were there earlier are now gone, so we have the room to ourselves.
“He’s stable?” Ellie asks, removing her dark brown leather coat. “Do we at least know that much?”
Reece nods. “Yes. He’s got a bunch of broken bones and he’s beat up, but they told us he’s in stable condition.”
“Physically, at least?” she adds, raising her perfect eyebrows.
“Yeah.”
She sits across from me at a small round table near the window, and I feel a bit cornered because I just want to be alone and sort through my thoughts. I’m still trying to pinpoint a moment of when Blue may have acted suicidal.
“I remember you,” she says. “I saw you with Blue and his dog in the park. I was so hoping he would introduce us, but he just walked away…”
“I remember you, too. He told me you were just a girl he spoke to sometimes.”
She shakes her head and purses her lips. “Of course he did. And I’m sure at the time, that’s what he believed.”
“Are you saying he had amnesia?”
“No, I’m saying that at times he wasn’t exactly in touch with reality.”
I wonder what’s worse—not remembering things, or not knowing if your memories are real.
“So that day in the park, did he know you were his sister? Or not? I’m sorry, but this is all very confusing. He told me had a brother, but he never mentioned a sister.”
“We don’t have a brother,” Ellie says simply.
I know for sure Blue mentioned an older brother.
I level my eyes on her. “He told me he had an older brother who got him started smoking weed when he was young.”
“That’s not true.”
I stare at her and Reece, who don’t seem fazed at all that Blue was talking about a brother he doesn’t even have. “Why would he lie about that?” I ask.
“To him it’s not a lie. It’s like a child who has an imaginary friend. They believe the friend is real, until eventually, they realize they’re not real. Blue has always battled with what’s real and what’s in his head.”
My head and heart start to pound in unison. Could there have been times when he didn’t think I was real?
“I honestly don’t understand any of this,” I say. “He acts a little strange sometimes, but I’ve never seen him talk to people that weren’t there or hallucinate or do anything crazy. He has a very successful career, and he’s a great father.”
A sympathetic smile crosses Ellie’s face. “I think he learned to hide it well, Piper. That’s why he drank and did drugs, to try to stop all the craziness in his head. And it masked his confusion. He walked to keep his mind busy.”
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “No. I don’t believe any of this. I know he had a substance abuse problem, but Blue isn’t crazy.”
“Oh I wouldn’t say he’s crazy, but I think him jumping off that roof and landing himself in this hospital was probably the best thing to happen to him.”
My jaw drops in shock and anger. “Are you serious right now? He almost died!”
“I know, and he’s very lucky he didn’t. But now he’ll get the help he needs, and a real diagnosis. Something he’s been running from his entire life.”
I’m beginning to not trust or like this woman. Why is she even here? I can’t tell if she cares about Blue or not.
She nods her elegant chin toward the engagement ring on my left hand.
“That’s quite the ring,” she says.
I pull my hand back, afraid she’ll somehow take the ring’s meaning away from me.
“Thank you. He surprised me with it. We were planning on getting married as soon as things settled down after he left the band. We have a little girl together. They adore each other.”
“I know. Reece keeps me filled in. You’re the only woman Blue has ever let in his life. He must love and trust you very much.”
“Yes,” I say, with tears threatening to start. “He does. And I love him. I’ve loved him for years.”
Her blue eyes soften with understanding. Or pity? I can’t tell. “I can see you do, and I don’t have any doubt that he loves you. I’m not trying to upset you, Piper, but you need to know what you’re dealing with, and I don’t think you have any idea. Tell me, has Blue ever mentioned his childhood to you. Say, before he was a teenager?”
Has he? Think, think, think…
I answer her with reluctance. “No. He hasn’t.”
“I didn’t think so. I was sixteen years old when Blue was born. Our mother had a lot of problems. She had bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, depression, and suffered episodes of mania. She never should have had any children, let alone two. And certainly not an infant later in life. When she was on her medication, she was somewhat functional, and fun, and loving. But when she went off her meds, she was mostly out of her mind.”
I force myself to breathe and listen as Ellie tells me more. “Our father was a drinker, and quite frankly, an abusive asshole. He was not equipped to deal with a mentally ill wife and two children. I learned at a very young age to just stay away from them both and take care of myself. When I was old enough, I worked in town and saved all my money so I could get my own place and get as far away from them as possible. And then Evan was born, and suddenly there was a baby that nobody wanted to take care of. Luckily, he was an extremely quiet baby. Too quiet, if I recall. He never cried or made any noise. He’d just lay there, in his crib or on the floor, and stare at the ceiling or out the window. Our mother would forget to feed him, sometimes for days when she was having an episode, and he wouldn’t make a sound. He’d just wait.”
“That’s horrible…” I almost scream. “That’s child abuse.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “It was. I tried to take care of him. I know it sounds terrible, but I was just a teenager and didn’t really understand the seriousness of it all. I was in denial, I guess, and didn’t really know what to do.”
I try to picture myself as a teen in the same situation. What would I have done?
“Our mother loved birds,” she continues, and my heart plummets into my stomach because I already know where this is going. I already know. “She was obsessed with them and had all different kinds that she bought or rescued. And when she was good, she took wonderful care of them, and of Evan. He was too little to understand her massive mood swings, and the erratic behavior differences, and he believed that good mom and bad mom were two different people. And she let him believe that.”
“An aunt? Did he think good mom was an aunt?” My voice shakes.
She nods with confirmation. “Yes. A wonderful, cool aunt. Evan was crazy about the birds. He was about four or five I think when he really started to spend time with the birds. He still wasn’t talking, actually, I don’t think Evan started to talk until he was almost six years old. He’d sit on the porch with the birds all day, listening to them chirp, and he’d chirp right along with them, and mimic their little songs, and he’d write in these old notebooks. One day I found him in one of the big cages with his favorite bird, chirping and writing away and I couldn’t get his attention for anything. He thought the bird was talking to him, and I think he really believed he understood what it was saying, and he told me his name wasn’t Evan, it was Blue. He was in his own world, and I knew right there, that he was screwed. Either he inherited what our mother had or she made him crazy or maybe it was both. I don’t know. I eventually moved out, and I’d go back and check on him once a week and he seemed mostly okay. He was in school, and he was dragging an old guitar around with him, and even though he was still hanging out with the birds, he wasn’t in the cage anymore. I thought he’d be okay. He was odd, and detached, but he seemed okay and not in any danger.”
“You just left a little boy in a situation like that?”
“I did, and I’ve always regretted it, but I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of them.”
“You should have gotten him help. The state would have taken him and put him in foster care, wouldn’t they?”
“Yeah,” Reece agrees. “They would have.”
“I didn’t want him to be taken away. I know that’s selfish and I know now it was wrong, but I didn’t want him taken away. I loved him. I thought he would be okay. I thought he’d be like me and just get through it and leave when he could.”
I want to strangle this woman. I don’t care if she was just a teenager, she knew right from wrong and she should have helped her little brother—not left him with parents who couldn’t take care of him.
“Well obviously he wasn’t okay!” I say. “You were older, you should have done something.”
She nods, not breaking eye contact with me
“We can’t go back in time and change it, Piper,” Reece says softly. “Ellie’s not a bad person. She was just a kid herself.”
“I know that but—”
She cuts in. “Believe me, I’ve felt horrible about it my whole life. I tried to help him as he got older. By then, I knew he was messed up. Every time I tried to talk to him he either told me to fuck off or he acted like he didn’t know who I was. Then he moved out of the house and into the shed, and then he lived with friends and again, I thought he would be okay. Later our father took off, never to be heard from again, and our mother passed away and she left him that house and he just let it go. I lived nearby, I’d see him in town walking around with the dog all the time, and playing that guitar for money, and I’d try so hard to help him, to get him to come home with me, but I couldn’t get through to him. He would tell me he had a headache and that he had to walk from the voices and listen to the rain and the birds, and some days he seemed perfectly normal and we’d have a nice chat and play with the dog. I never knew if he was high, or sick like our mother, and I couldn’t convince him to go to a doctor. I tried many, many times. I don’t know why he chose to live on the streets like he did. He had a home, he had money, he had me. He just wanted to be alone.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “Are you saying that house with the porch in Amherst—with the shed in the backyard—is his?”
She nods. “Yes. It’s been his for years. It’s just sitting there, falling apart. He had quite a bit of money left for him that our mother had from her own parents that she left for both of us, and as far as I know, he never touched it. I thought for sure once he got his life together, and made this amazing career for himself, that he’d either restore the house or sell it, but it’s still sitting there.”
The whole time he lived in that old dirty shed, Blue was home.
“I feel sick,” I say, putting my hands up in surrender. “I really don’t know if I can handle all this.”
Reece stands and comes over to kneel next to my chair. He puts his arms around me and holds me as I cry, and I just want to disappear. My head is swimming with confusion and fear. Is Blue really crazy? Has he been crazy the entire time I’ve known him? I just can’t believe that.
I pull away and wipe my face with a napkin Ellie hands me. “What about Lyric?” I ask, trembling. “Is this hereditary? Could she be sick?”
“No,” Reece says quickly. “No. Lyric is fine.”
He has to be right. Lyric has never acted strange. She’s intelligent, and creative, and caring, social, and completely normal.
The door to the waiting room swings open and Blue’s doctor enters.
Finally.
