to light and guard

chapter thirty

Small, pale, and gray on the white sheets of the hospital bed, Lana's father stretched out in a pathetic jumble of wires and cords pressed into his paper thin skin, head tilted to the side as he slept. "He was last awake about ten or so this morning. Not long enough to eat. He hasn't eaten in days," Roger said. "I got him to drink something, and then he went back to sleep." He smiled at Lana, but he didn't greet her like the others; dark circles rested under his eyes, and when he introduced himself to Mary Eunice, he stumbled over his own name.

"We're going to run home, Lana," Timothy said. "We have an apartment now. We both have to work in the morning. I'll come get you tomorrow morning before I head off to the department, alright?" They both bobbed their heads, mute at the sight of the dying man. "Call us or Mama if you need anything. John will be right here if you call for him. He's a real nice guy."

Silence consumed the room through the closed door. Outside, in the hallways of the hospital, nurses and doctors roamed, brightly lit hallways and beeping noises and crying babies, all manner of things one would associate with a hospital, but inside, gray shadows crawled from everything dimmed not to disturb the steady breaths of the tiny, thin man on the mattress. Mary Eunice glanced over her shoulder through the slit of glass in the door, and then she scooted closer to Lana, folding their hands together in the solitude. The squeeze of her hand sent a heavy breath whistling from Lana's lungs. I don't want to look at him. But she couldn't rip her gaze away. She pushed back into the skinny futon and tugged Mary Eunice to sit beside her, their legs brushing. I can't look at her, either. Her breath hitched whenever she saw the heavy, black-clad figure beside her, too parallel to the demon who had haunted her throughout the halls of Briarcliff.

Lana placed their joint hands in her lap and wrapped both of hers around Mary Eunice's. Tears burned behind her eyes. She stared down at the white tile floor, cast gray from the lack of light in the room. Mary Eunice leaned close beside her; her presence, warm like a blanket, covered her and wreathed her in safety. She inhaled deeply in Lana's hair. God, she's so sweet. I don't deserve her. Lifting a hand, she wiped her nose, where a steady drip had begun. "I'm sorry my mother yelled at you," she whispered.

"She's scarier than I imagined," Mary Eunice admitted.

"Still not as scary as your aunt." Lana arched an eyebrow at her in challenge.

Considering, she pursed her lips, and then she shrugged. "Fair enough." Reclining her head, she rested it on the back of the futon, gazing up at the ceiling. "Your sister seems nice." Lana hummed noncommittally in return. "She's pretty." Heat bubbled in the pit of her stomach at the soft words, and she had to fight to stifle them. Don't be stupid. You can't be jealous of Frieda. Even if Mary Eunice wanted to elope with her, she's got eight kids—you don't want any part of that. "Her husband isn't very pretty, though."

Lana snorted. "You're right. She could do a lot better. Or—well, she could've done better eight kids ago. Now, she'd be lucky to find a nanny to tackle that many kids." She rolled Mary Eunice's hand between her own, fondling it with an absent mind, just glad to feel skin on her skin, some comfort drawn there. I love her. I'm glad she's here. She couldn't imagine facing any of this alone. More than anything, she wanted to wrap Mary Eunice in her arms and hold her tight and whisper her thanks, but they were too close to the public eye. Anyone outside could storm in and tear them apart. "What was that you told her? About being a Dominican nun?"

"Oh—Dominican is just an order of nuns, Sisters, and friars. Dedicated to Saint Dominic. There are all kinds of orders. I just belong to one of them." She knows so much. She has so much inside of her that I know nothing of, and I haven't been listening. Lana straightened and nodded, encouraging her to continue. A frown quirked upon the pink lips, but after a moment's hesitation, Mary Eunice continued, "Saint Dominic favored systematic education, so he created an order called the Order of Preachers, which emphasized a need for educated clergy members. That's... really, that's all I know. But there are a bunch of different orders. The Franciscans, the Carmelites, the Augustinians."