The Long Term Plan (With Short Term Fixes)

XXV

Evangeline stayed in the hospital, despite her discharging, for the weekend, with only one protestation from a nurse in the wing, who was immediately removed by security shortly thereafter. In fact, the rest of the floor's nurses, after hearing her arguments with her lover and husband, were happy she was taking time alone to think it all through. Evangeline could not have hated the time more.

For the three days, indeed she had eaten the specialized meals brought to her bedside, but she'd slept little, in knowing that in sleep, her nightmares would return without Noah nearby. Had he gone back to New York? Without her? Who could say?

Instead, she blankly stared out her window, at nothing but the glorious symphony of morning and the deafening silence of night, for three days.

When she woke up around midday on Monday, she failed to recall how and when she'd actually fallen asleep. Supposing it mattered naught, she stretched herself out, curling and flexing her toes. Someone knocked on the door.

"Enter," she called, startled at the clarity of her voice. She let her head to loll from side to side.

His hair was an unwashed, natural mess. His eyes were puffy. The skin of his cheeks was blotchy and dry. She'd never seen Jacob in such a state of distress, but even in one, he was still matching.

"You skipped foundation this morning?"

He scratched the back of his neck roughly. "The last few mornings actually. My technician says it's a cleanse, but I'm calling it a bullshit torture session."

"Mm," she agreed.

Jacob fully entered the room, but he remained standing, in front of the bed. He had left the door open.

"Things have changed," he stated.

"Well, that's obvious."

"You think this is a joke, Evangeline?"

"Jacob, it's clearly not a joke. Before you interrupted, I was in the middle of coming to terms with the fact that I'm losing my husband."

"Hey," he scolded. "Facetiousness is no way to behave."

"You want to tell me how to behave? Go ahead. Your opinion will be no different than those of all the other men in our family."

"Family?!"

Evangeline's blood started to run so cold, it froze solid and stilled in her veins. As she turned her head to the door, she prayed she'd heard that ever clear but awfully shrill voice incorrectly, that whoever had been eavesdropping on them was not who she was imagining: but it was.

"Mother," Evangeline spat, masking her intense alarm. "How... noble of you to appear in my not-so-needy hour of need."

"What would you know of family?"

Let the record show Evangeline Stahl had not spoken to any member of her immediate, biological family since her twenty third birthday party, at which she told them all off after announcing her illness to them. The feeling was mutual, as her trust fund was deactivated three hours later and all of her gifts were sent back on account of being "defective" when the only thing that was defective was her.

She was just rounding the corner into Evangeline's room: her mother Karen Day, the nastiest, tough-loving bitch California had ever seen. Her black whip of hair had always been jet, and would always be jet, even in her casket. She'd been squinting to intimidate people for fifty years, and her irises had turned milky blue with cataracts.

"Jacob..." Evan hissed. "My mother?"

Jacob lifted his hands in defeat. "He didn't know what else to do!"