Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 38.5: 1968, Georgina

Chapter 38.5: 1968, Georgina

 

It was evening, and Frankie had gone out to get coffee for practically the fifteenth time because I refused to sleep even a wink with Paulie here needing my attention. He'd taken Cha Cha with him, getting him out of the hospital for a bit of normalcy, some fresh air. To make him less stressed. 

During one of these, Paulie had been moved to a room upstairs and I'd followed. His doctor told me he'd be in this hospital for a couple of days, then he'd be put in a drug rehabilitation center upstate for a while. They couldn't give me any kind of idea of for how long and I didn't protest. I only asked if I could visit him there and they said they didn't know.

Now I was sitting in the room alone, the only chair in the room next to Paulie's head as he slept away. He'd slept all day, never moving from that spot. There was a picture of a sailboat in here, framed by blonde wood. It looked like something you'd find in a baby's room, made of silly patterned cloth and just ridiculous all around. I wondered why they'd put such a thing in here. Though, I supposed this could be a place where babies were born, where new mothers-

"Hey."

-were taught how to take care of their babies, really a family sort of-

"Geor...gina...?"

I gasped, my eyes freezing on the sailboat.

"What're you...looking at?"

"Um..." I paused. The sound of Paulie's voice was scratchy, barely there. Memories rushed to me, about when I'd first seen him in the room downstairs, the questions about what to say to him. "I'm looking at a sailboat."

"Sailboat? ...Where's that?"

"Its a picture on the wall."

"Yeah...? That's nice."

"Yeah."

Finally, I looked at him. He was staring at me, unblinking. His eyes were bloodshot. There was still a little bit of orange vomit crust at the left corner of his mouth, neglected by the nurse who'd cleaned him up earlier. 

"Um. You've got a...here, I'll get it," I said, licking my thumb and wiping the corner of his mouth. I wiped this on Frankie's pants, because I'd be washing them anyway. 

"What...was that?"

"Vomit."

"Ohh...eww."

"Its just your's."

"But why...would you...eww."

"Moron."

"Huh?"

"You're a moron."

All of the feelings I had felt back in the apartment, under the snow, in the waiting room, everywhere were suddenly coming back. Even feelings from the bathroom at the club. Especially feelings from the bathroom at the club. Anger, but also pain.

"Sorry?"

"You called Cha Cha. You relapsed, you-"

"Sorry..."

"How could you?"

"Geor...gina...its not a...relapse."

"What?" I looked down at him. He was still looking up at me. I wanted him to blink, but he didn't. Just staring. It looked like it hurt.

"Its not...a replase...I never stopped...using..."

"What?" My eyes felt heavy, but I blinked. I blinked for both of us because his eyes...