A Void Dance

Chapter 6 Lydia

It's days like this that remind me of my current reality. I drag myself up to go to the bathroom, which causes a coughing fit. I brace myself on the bathroom counter as I cough blood splatters into the sink in tiny droplets. I rinse out the sink and wash my hands. The aches and shooting pains from the coughing fit leave me feeling weak and lethargic. I crawl back into bed, collapsing into my pillow. My bones feel like they are grinding together with every movement. I close my eyes, hoping sleep will take some of it away.

Two hours later, I awake. The pain is a dull ache but manageable. I test my movement by attempting to go to the bathroom. Ok, good. There is no coughing fit this time. I breathe a sigh of relief. I still feel shitty mornings like today usually leave me feeling drained and unmotivated.

Later, my phone buzzes. I'm lying in bed while sipping tea and doing a crossword. It's a Facetime call from my mom. I answer as her face appears. "Lydia!" she exclaims. I smile. "Hey, mom". "Darcy misses you," she says, holding my Frenchie to the screen. He barks as his little tongue lulls out of the side of his mouth. "Hey, my sweet boy," I say, "Is grandma spoiling you." "No more than mommy does," my mother says, putting him down. "I miss you too, sweetheart. How much longer is this job?" she asks. "A few more weeks, Mom. But I might extend it. They are offering me a professor of psychology position," I lie. I told my mother I was working under a former mentor in California to become a professor. "That's wonderful!" she exclaims. I am so happy for you. "Have you met any new women out there?" she asks. My thoughts stray to CJ. It depends on what you mean by met, I think to myself. "No, Mom, I'm not here for that. I am focusing on my work," I say. "I know, dear. I just worry about you getting lonely in such a big city," she says. "Don't worry, Mom, everything is great. I love you. I gotta get going," I say, not wanting to drag out this conversation any further. "I love you too, dear," Mom says, kissing the screen. I smile and shake my head. Hearing from her both makes me smile and hurts me simultaneously.

A few hours later, my phone rings again. I think to myself, it must be Mom again. Maybe she forgot to tell me something? But when I looked at the screen, it's my best friend's name on the screen."Hello?" I answer, "Look, it's not my fault. But mom called..." "It's fine, Sam." I cut her off. Sam has been my best friend since grade school. After her mother passed away when she was eight, my mom made it her mission to be a mom to Sam. When Sam came out as a lesbian at 17, her whole family cut her off. Mom and I have been her family since.

"So what's shakin' bacon?" Sam asks. I groan a laugh. "You will never grow out of that, will you?" I ask. "Not likely," she says, a smirk in her voice. "Today didn't start great, but otherwise, it's pretty good," I say. "Have you been seeing a doctor out there?" she asks. "Yes, Mom," I say in a whiny teenage voice. "I'm serious Lyds. If nothing else, they can help..." "I am fine, Sam," I cut her off. "You know I love and support you, Lyds," she says. I hate hearing her concern. "I kinda met someone," I say to change the subject. "Wait. What!?" she says, surprised. "It's not like that. I, um, read to her in the park," I say. "Is she a five-year-old?" Sam asks with a chuckle. "No, Jackass, she's 25. Before you ask, yes, she can read. It kind of just happened, and I decided to study her. One more patient, do you know what I mean?" Sam is silent for a second. "Is this a good idea, Lydia?" she asks. "It's just reading, Sam. Platonic reading:" I emphasize platonic to erase the notion of anything else from her head and mine. "Lydia...what about?" she stops, and I sigh. "Just let me have this, ok?" I say. "OK, Lyds, be careful. I gotta go meeting some friends at the bar," she says. "Have fun, Sammy. I love you and miss you." I say, "Love and miss you to Lyds," and she hangs up. Talking to Sam has twisted up my stomach. Maybe I am doing something wrong. But I'm not ready to stop yet.