Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 47.2: 1995, Ruiz

Chapter 47.2: 1995, Ruiz

 

"Its like history is repeating itself..."

Ambrose's arms were tight around me, holding me on the couch. The lights were bright in the room. I couldn't bear the dark. He was still in a sparkly sort of costume, a blue and yellow sequined cocktail dress that reminded me of Fruit Roll Ups. The sequins were sticking to my cotton shirt, peeling like a Fruit Roll Up, too.

"Hmm?" I nuzzled my nose into his nearly bare chest, sniffling snottily but he didn't care if I got snot all over him. My hands gripped around him anew as I adjusted my position, burrowing my face under his collarbone.

"Like with Miss Paula? Miss Kitty? I was living with Miss Paula when she got sick and then Miss Kitty..." The worry was pouring from his voice. Of course he would be reminded of back then. It was something I had been expecting. 

"This isn't like that at all, Ambrose." I sighed softly into him my prepared answer, settling.

"I can't help but be reminded."

"Its not going to happen like that. Because Georgina is going to get better."

"I really hope so."

The softness of his lips bloomed on top of my head and my body immediately relaxed into his. They came again and I sighed deeply. Slow as molasses, his hand began to rub my back. 

"Georgina is going to get better, so..." I muffled into his body. 

"What's going to happen when she gets better?"

"I don't know. But we have to think about what's happening now. Miss Cha Cha says we all have to get the house ready. She said something about weighting tables? What's that?"

"Hmm," Ambrose's voice resonated against me, calming me further. "I did that with Miss Paula. It can be done two ways? You can put heavy objects on them that counter balance a person's weight, or you can tie weights to the undersides. It was really useful, because I remember how Miss Paula would stumble to the bathroom at night and grab everything to keep herself standing. She was too proud to use a walker and stuff." Sweetly, he began chuckling, causing us to bounce. "The first night she did that she fell down in the kitchen and Miss Kitty was laughing and being like, 'oh, how the proud have fallen' and Miss Paula was like, 'shut up you fat son of a bitch and help me, I gotta piss'. So that morning Miss Kitty and I put all of this heavy shit on everything so it wouldn't happen again."

I couldn't help but laugh with him at this story, remembering when it happened. But how quickly laughter had turned to tears back then. It was easy to laugh, but so hard to cry. I sniffled, quickly quieted by the truth. Humor seemed to have been the only thing keeping us going back then. But it was different now. I couldn't find anything funny with our current situation. It had been different with Miss Paula and Miss Kitty, because they'd always been cracking jokes at each other about how Miss Paula had AIDS but I could never imagine cracking a single joke about Georgina having a stroke. How could two people be so different?

I sniffled, my brain unwillingly imagining Georgina in the hospital probably connected to all of these tubes and everything suddenly again. Warm tears bubbled around my eyes, wetting everything. 

"Hey," Ambrose said incredibly gently. I felt his hand brush the top of my hair. Whisper soft, he began stroking the top of my head. "We'll weight everything today. We can go out and buy some weights and tie them under the tables and chairs and stuff. Its going to be hard work, but it will definitely be worth it. We'll take Miss Cha Cha's car after she comes back from her morning class. Imagine trying to take all those weights on the subway? Damn."