Roseanne
Lisa creeps into the flat, trying hard not to wake me. She always does this, on the nights she works late, but I'm a light sleeper and there are little things that give her away long before she sets foot in the room: the clink of keys against a counter, a coat falling against a chair. She keeps a spare toothbrush at the kitchen sink for nights like this, just so the bathroom light won't wake me.
"I'm up," I tell her when she comes into the bedroom, feeling around in the darkness for the dresser before she stubs her toe on it again.
"Sorry," she says. She pulls off her scrubs and slips beneath the sheets, wrapping cold arms around me, pulling the covers up to my chin. "I tried to be quiet."
"I was already awake." I scoot until I'm pressed tight to her chest. Her bare skin, her smell, the weight of her arm—they're all I need in the entire world right now. "I had the weirdest dream and woke up all upset."
Her hand squeezes my arm lightly in sympathy. "What dream?"
My legs stretch, tangle with hers. "We were together but we were teenagers, I think? And we were trying to elope."
Her low laugh brushes my ear. "That does sound terrifying. I'm bad enough now. A teenage Lisa wouldn't have left you alone for a minute."
I roll her way, wishing I could laugh with her but I can't yet. It all still feels so real. "We were at this gas station and I called home to tell my mother what we were doing and you were inside, in line. And I started crying because I was never going to see you again. I just knew somehow that it was all over, and I was going to die. And then I woke up."
I can't get it out of my head—the sight of her in the convenience store, smiling at me from her place in line, while I stood there panicked, certain it was over. The distress I feel in dreams normally fades immediately. This one though—it remains unchanged.
Her lips press to the top of my head. "Hon, it doesn't require a degree to figure that one out. Call your mom. She's probably going to be less upset with you for getting married than she is that you waited so long to tell her. And you're an adult. It's not like she can ground you and lock you in your room."
I nod, but I'm not so sure she's right.
I wake up missing Lisa. I close my eyes and can almost imagine the way she fit against me, long arms pulling me tight. The mint from her toothpaste, a hint of chlorine as I buried my face into her chest. Jaehyun and I don't cuddle like that, and he isn't someone I share my worries with—I suppose because I'm too busy shouldering his. I leaned on Lisa in that dream, physically and mentally, and it's something I didn't know I was missing until this morning. My future with Jaehyun contains wonderful things: a house, kids, a trip to the Jersey shore every summer. But right now I'm aching for what my future won't contain instead.
I dress and head to the hospital. My inappropriate eagerness to see Lisa outweighs my dread of what she might say—I've almost convinced myself that the need for another MRI is meaningless anyway.
I've just signed in when her head pops around the corner. Like an idiot, like a teen with a crush, I begin blushing. It's so strange to see her now, to be a stranger to her, when in my head, we were together an hour ago. I can still remember her sliding against me, bare aside from her tank top and boxers.
I blush harder. I remember removing those too.
"Come on back," she says, holding the door so I can walk past. We go to her office, which is larger than I'd have anticipated. Her diplomas are on the wall and there are photos too. I keep my eyes focused straight ahead, scared of what I'll discover if I look too closely. It's funny it never occurred to me, until this moment, that she might not be single. My gaze shifts to her ring finger. It's bare. My shoulders settle again.
