To Light and Guard

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mary Eunice awoke to a cold nose pressing against her arm beneath the covers; Gus had managed to wriggle his way beside her and got her attention with his gentle bumping. "Not yet, bubby," she slurred, low and mumbled. She tugged the blankets back over them. "I'll take you outside in a little bit." Burying her face in the pillows, she exhaled a long sigh, reluctant to so much as glance at the clock, for she didn't want to know how long the late night had made her sleep. She had fallen asleep with such force, she hadn't even managed to dream. Gus whined in protest, disliking her commitment to remaining in bed. "Sh, buddy, go back to sleep."

Beside her, the bed rocked, and she blinked on top of the blankets to watch Lana flee to the bathroom. She lay there, frozen in shock, until the first sounds of retching rose up from the room. Then, slow and careful, she rolled out of bed and tiptoed in pursuit of Lana. How much does she remember? she wondered, afraid to ask, afraid to draw too near. Does she still want me here? I let too much happen. I let her do too much. I was supposed to take care of her. Oh, no. Lana emptied her stomach into the toilet bowl. Mary Eunice wet a washcloth and took it to her face, brushing away the sweat, pinning back her hair with her hands when she began to heave again. As Mary Eunice gathered up the brunette locks and tied them into a ponytail, Lana stilled, pressing her cheek to the cool ceramic bowl. Mary Eunice bit her tongue; she didn't dare speak, but instead she reached for the bottle of Tylenol and poured a few pills into her hand.

The first words of the morning were, "Thank you," as Lana accepted the tablets from Mary Eunice. She swallowed them with a bitter swish of water, lips curled downward at the edges. Mary Eunice dabbed another rivulet of sweat from her temple. Lana leaned into her embrace. Her brown eyes drowsed. "I'm gonna wager you're not ready to narrate everything that happened last night back at me," Lana mused, heavy eyelashes drooping.

Mary Eunice wet the washcloth again to remove the rest of Lana's makeup. "I wouldn't even know where to begin." She reflected on the night, one long thought streaming into another—Jasmine, Lois, Barb, Katherine, Rachel, each one flashed before her and vanished in a blitz of white powder. The music hummed around her once, the stench of cigarette smoke, the sound of Earl's gravelly voice, all things on which she was riveted. But she never wanted to go back. The night had ended poorly enough for her to avoid ever returning. "What... What do you remember?" she asked after a brief hesitance.

Lana flushed the toilet bowl and pushed back from it, settling with her back to the bathtub. Mary Eunice crouched and sat beside her. Lana blew a lock of brown hair out from her eyes. "Kinda... Kinda blacked out after we were in the kitchen floor, I think—did I pass out?" Mary Eunice shook her head, but Lana's eyes didn't leave her face, narrowing in scrutiny. "I'm sorry—I might be seeing things—" She rubbed her eyes with her fists before she squinted back up to Mary Eunice's face. Her lips parted in an open-mouthed stare. "Were you making out with someone?" Mary Eunice's eyes fluttered wide with astonishment at Lana's abrupt question. "Your, your lipstick, it's all streaked. And you've got a hickey on your neck." These words sent Mary Eunice lurching in front of the mirror to look at herself. "Was that—Was that Rachel? I didn't see it last night, but fuck, I was so shit-faced. God, that stupid bitch." Her brows quirked together in her reflection, gazing at all of the things Lana had pointed out, the bruising on her neck, the streak of lipstick on her face. She prodded the hickey with one index finger. That wasn't Rachel . She swallowed hard and licked her thumb to try and wipe away the streaked lipstick. Neither was that.

"Well?" Lana's tone held more questions than Mary Eunice would have anticipated, and she realized Lana had read her face, seen the concern and confusion there where everything was out of place, and she knew she couldn't lie. "Who did that?" Her tone darkened, concerned.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Mary Eunice fought to look directly into Lana's eyes; she wound up, instead, staring at her eyebrows. The repercussions of her bare whisper frightened her, but she could not bring herself to lie to Lana. "You did," she said.