Page 11 of We Were Something
Maybe having a guy best friend like Lucas is the real reason I have a hard time putting up with the shitty qualities of so many men my own age.
I’ve spent my entire life with the attention and friendship of a guy who, even during some of his most self-absorbed, immature, completely ridiculous moments, still manages to put others first.
So even though I’m still on the fence about whether or not a long-term commitment to a man is something I’ll ever pursue, the bar has been set pretty damn high.
And once I do decide, I refuse to settle for anyone who isn’t able to clear it.
The sun is well and truly set as the three of us walk across the parking lot outside Roth Memorial Hospital the following evening. The exterior lights line the base of the building then scatter out along the paved walkway toward the entrance, giving it a welcoming look that belies the fact that many of the people inside are fighting for their lives.
Light pours out of the massive windows of patient rooms on the upper floors, and I let out a long breath. Each time we visit, I remind myself that if Ivy is going to be stuck inside this behemoth for who knows how long, at least she has a beautiful view of the ocean.
I’d never paid the structure much attention before the Calloway family checked Ivy in earlier this summer, but it really is beautifully designed.
A large circular fountain out front runs in perpetuity, the glowing lights beneath the water giving a majestic feel to the way it flows. Several types of palm trees are mixed with low bushes, planted in a pattern between blocks of concrete to break up the esplanade that would otherwise look too stark. The building itself is five stories with massive panels of glass, allowing natural light from outside to radiate through the entry during the day.
The Roth family spared no expense when they contributed the new endowment for refurbishing the entire structure and expanding several wings over the past ten years. Lennon doesn’t normally brag about her family’s extensive wealth, but she has been very proud of the work they put into the hospital, especially since it’s likely Ivy is only able to get the treatment she needs here in Hermosabecauseof the upgrades and changes that have been made.
I’d be proud, too. Instead, all I can offer Ivy are free drinks at some of the local clubs if she gets out of the hospital and back into the real world.
Not if. When.Whenshe gets out of the hospital.
We’re quiet as we walk through the sliding doors that open into the front lobby space, the reality of being inside a hospital seeming to subdue our normal temperaments, though I still smile at the woman manning the information desk before we step onto an open elevator.
“I’ve been practicing some new signs,” I say once the doors have closed and we begin the slow ascent to pediatrics. “Mostly school-related.”
Hannah beams at me from where she leans back against the railing on the opposite side of the car.
“That’s great, Paige,” she says. “I know I’ve told you this before, but don’t forget that it’s okay for you to feel awkward as you incorporate new signs into the conversation. It’s normal to struggle and possibly get the order of signs wrong. But it will mean a lot to Ivy that you’re trying.”
Hannah is such a fascinating creature to me, which is probably why I took such a liking to her when she moved to Hermosa Beach at the beginning of summer.
She’s relentlessly optimistic and encouraging, always doling out positive support and offering genuine friendship and care in a way that rarely exists in a world like the one I’ve grown up in. All of that even though she came from a rough-as-hell life.
She’s gorgeous, too. Take her outfit tonight, for instance. Casual as can be in a pair of inexpensive jeans and a Hollister sweater she probably got from somewhere like Marshalls on discount. Almost no makeup, her light smattering of freckles more pronounced from all her recent time in the sun, and she’s easily the most beautiful girl in a five-mile radius.
I’m including myself and Lennon in that group, and I never mince words about the fact that IknowI’m top shelf.
I wasn’t the only one who instantly liked her. Just about everyone in our friend group thinks Hannah is amazing, and it’s no wonder she and Wyatt fell for each other so quickly. You can’t fake that kind of goodness.
Sometimes, I like to imagine a world where I can be as compassionate and caring as Hannah. She’s such a soothing presence, no matter what the situation.
But I’m way too much of a mess to ever be as good of a person as she is. Sure, I usually have good intentions. I want people to be happy, and I’mnormallybrimming with positive energy. But I’m just a little too selfish, a little too absorbed in my own world to be able to put others first the way she does.
That thought almost makes me laugh at myself, especially considering my musings earlier today about men and the fact that I detest their selfish, self-absorbed ways.
If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t knowwhatis.
The elevator car comes to a stop on the fourth floor and the three of us exit, turning to the right, away from the general rooms and instead heading toward the long-term care unit.
Apparently, these types of units for children, spaces that give them rooms or beds where they can undergo treatment for months at a time, aren’t available at every hospital. The timing of this upgrade being completed just a year before Ivy needed it…it was like a miracle. Some fortuitous occurrence that allows Ivy’s entire family to be just a few moments away. If the hospital hadn’t developed something like this, she would have been moved into a facility somewhere hours from here, making it much harder to visit her and shower her with the love she so desperately needs in the face of so many challenges.
When we finally reach room 421, I stand at the doorway and wait for Ivy to notice I’m here, and I can’t help but smile when I see the way her eyes light up at the sight of me.
I give her a stupid little wave, stepping into the room only a few feet before she’s barreling into me, her slight frame somehow seeming much more fragile today than it did the last time I was here, just a week ago.
That thought makes me cling to her extra tight for a beat too long before I finally loosen my hold.
She pulls back to look at me, which is when I finally have a chance to say something.
