Page 80 of Good Half Gone

I make my way out of the clinic, heading toward the care station. Leo is talking to Janiss; he sees me and smiles. When he looks at me with his eyes soft, I forget every bad thing that’s hanging on my conscience. His is the sort of attention that makes a person feel weightless.

I wonder after his love—what would that be like? My romantic daydream is interrupted when someone calls my name.

“Iris, just the person I was looking for…” Bouncer emerges from B in a whirlwind of perfume and requests. I force a smile. She looks harried, her bun a frizzy mess.

“We have two nurses out—one of them was late to the water taxi, the other has COVID. I need you to handle art time today…can you manage alone?”

I nod.

“Good,” she says. “Because you seem easily distracted.”

My anger flares. She’s one to talk, hanging over the doctor like a bad cold. I almost tell her so, but Leo is in earshot, and I don’t want to start trouble.

My insides are still grappling with the news, and I feel particularly volatile. A patient named Glen walks by. He tries to look casual, but it’s clear that he’s eavesdropping on our conversation. I call on the therapy gods for help. Why get that much therapy if you’re not going to use it, right?

I bite down my tart response, smiling sweetly instead. “I’ll be able to handle it,” I tell her. “It’ll be great.”

Her red lips purse together as she considers me. I notice her looking over my shoulder in Leo’s direction.I wonder if he’s watching us. Again, I get the recurring sense that something has happened between them.It’s not your business, I chide myself. I decided to sleep with him; I can’t fixate on who slept with him before me—even if she is a redheaded vixen with porny vibes. I make myself docile as she leads me to the art room and fills me in on what to do with them.

The art room is warm, the windows foggy. It smells like acrylic paint and cedar. The floor is splashed with the remnants of a thousand art projects. It’s a messy, cozy room.

“They’re painting today. We play music for them that is soothing—like classical or jazz. Make sure Esti doesn’t eat the paint. She had to have her stomach pumped once from chugging Elmer’s glue. And don’t let Martin and the other Martin sit near each other. It always ends in a fight.”

Docile Iris, sweet and pure as a flower, nods her head.

Bouncer leaves me with a couple more warnings before rushing out.

Despite the weight hanging on my heart, I pull off a great art class. I start by announcing that since I am their art teacher today, it’s only appropriate that they paint irises. Most everyone thinks my proclamation is wildly funny. I even hear a little giggle out of Alma. We listen to classic rock, passing a book of flowers around. At one point, all twenty of them are tapping their feet to the music.

I get really into it too, painting my own iris, which, as one of the Martins points out, looks like a grasshopper. For a few hours today, it feels as if everything I did to be here is worth it, even if I didn’t get the answers I was looking for.

There is a silver lining in the form of Leo and my work. I’ve spent so much energy on finding answers about Piper that I’ve forgotten everything about myself. That is going to change. I like helping people, so that’s what I’ll keep doing.

Maybe it is time to let Piper go. It hurts to think about it,but it hurts to think of her too. She’d been my helper through the years, my call-upon when making decisions—what would Piper do? Maybe it’s time to ask what Iris would do.

No one wants to leave when class ends, and when a nurse comes to collect Bernie, who is wheelchair-bound, he slaps her hands away. I think about what Leo said—that I entered this line of work to help people. Today felt more rewarding than anything else I’ve done in the last few years. I smile to myself as I tidy up the paints. Maybe I could do this—be normal and have aspirations and goals that have nothing to do with Piper.

I see that one of my students has painted words above their iris. It takes me a minute to figure out what the letter blobs are. The brush they used is thick, and the paint is runny. Bad is coming. I step away from the canvas like it’s diseased. I decide not to touch that one. I don’t want any of the sentiment touching my reality.

Chapter26

I Wake Upon a Saturday morning to the incessant ringing of my cell. Glancing at the window, I see it’s still dark outside. It’s the hospital calling.

“Hello?”

Jordyn’s voice fills the line. “Iris, we need you to come in today. We’re horribly understaffed.”

I think of Cal sleeping in the next room; I promised him I’d take him to the aquarium today.

“I wouldn’t ask unless it was absolutely necessary. Throw me a bone here, Iris.”

“Okay.” I toss the comforter off my legs and stand. “I have to find a babysitter.”

“Do that,” Jordyn says. “I’ve called ahead to the sea taxi. They’re going to wait for you.” Before I can respond, she hangs up.

I call Mary-Ann and tell her the situation while I get my things together.

“I have Bryan today,” she tells me. “I can take them to the aquarium.”

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