Page 139 of Switch!
“Then how do you deal with it?” Patrick asks.
“It isn’t easy. Some days are better than others.” Her voice is beginning to waver. “We should have gone through this together, Patrick.” She sobs, which nearly breaks his heart. “Losing our daughter was bad enough. I needed you!”
“I’m here now,” Patrick says hoarsely.
“For how long? Are you staying?”
I can feel the answer deep inside of him, but he responds with a question of his own. “Would you want me to?”
She places a hand over his. “I’m still your wife.”
Her turns his hand over so their fingers can intertwine and the rest of the world ceases to matter. The parking lot slowly empties. Trixie texts to say she’s getting a ride home with his parents. Patrick and Laura are left alone, but they still have plenty of issues to accompany them. Their conversation is a mixture of confessions and accusations, hurt feelings and apologies.
I decide early on to give them their privacy. My turn to spend a shift in the black box. Whenever I resurface to check on them, the scenery has changed—a restaurant, a sidewalk, a car interior— but they are always together. I’m starting to think they’ll never separate when finally, having checked once more, I find that Patrick has returned home. I’m in his bedroom. He’s not alone.
“You’ll have to ask him about it,” Trixie is saying. She’s standing in front of us with crossed arms. “I’m not sure what he’ll think.”
Does she mean me?
“Whoa!” Patrick says, starting to turn around. Then he remembers that I can’t be seen so easily. “Travis, is that you?”
Yes!
“Good,” Patrick replies. “We need to talk.”
“Tell him how bored I’ve been,” Trixie says. “And how your mom made me chop onions. Like ten of them!”
Her eyes do look red, the poor thing.
“French onion soup,” Patrick explains. “But I guess you remember that.”
I do if I think about it, but I’m not hit with all the memories I missed while in the black box. Maybe because my mind isn’t the one that needs to realign itself.
“Do you need me to tell you what happened with Laura,” Patrick asks, “or do you remember?”
I’d have to go through hours’ worth of conversation, I explain,and even then I might not know what specific part you mean.
“I could meet you in the black box,” Patrick suggests.
“Bored!” Trixie reminds us both.
A mirror will do, I say.
Patrick is soon standing in the upstairs bathroom, facing the mirror. Trixie sits on the closed toilet seat after insisting that she be allowed to watch. There isn’t much to see. I don’t have any impressive tricks that involve a mirror. The situation is simply less awkward this way.
“It helps having someone to look at,” Patrick says, echoing my thoughts. “Even if it is just me. Should we take turns so you can respond to each thing I say?”
Too much effort. You go first. I’ll answer when you’re done. Better let Trixie know. She’ll interrupt us otherwise. Don’t tell her I said that!
Patrick laughs. After conveying my message to her, he begins. “Laura and I want to try again. Being together, I mean. Although if we ever feel ready to start a family…” He swallows. I can feel the emotion. An oddly reluctant hope. I think I understand why. So much has been taken from him or lost through his own actions. Believing that things could get better leaves him open to the pain of disappointment.
“Neither one of us want to return to the West Coast,” Patrick continues. “Too much heartache. We’re stronger here with our families. They can help support us emotionally. I want to find work. Laura has a part-time job while she earns her nursing degree. She’ll be finished next year. It’ll be a new beginning for us both.”
This is great news!
“I’m concerned about what that means for you,” Patrick says. “I promised you this body. You saved my life, so it belongs to you as much as it does me, but I’m wondering if we can share somehow. We’ll set up a schedule. I’ll have to explain things to Laura, which won’t be easy, but surely between the two of us—”
“I’m willing to help,” Trixie interjects.
