Destined

Twenty Nine

Alex

Evelyn and I have been better since I told her the truth behind the necklace and I've never been happier about where we are now. I never thought she'd hug me if I told her but the fact that she did made the whole situation easier. This morning when I woke up I was chipper, heading downstairs for a nice bowl of cereal to be surprised with fruits spread out across the island. Jolene and Andrew rush in and start putting things together without so much as a good morning. "What's going on guys?"
"We're heading out for my work retreat this morning, remember? I told you last week." Yes Andrew, but last week I was dealing with your daughter and her drama until the night she came into my room unannounced. "We'll be back in a couple days. Don't burn down the house." He fills a couple water bottles and exits the kitchen.
"Please tell Evelyn goodbye for us and that we love her." Jolene is slowly getting over her anger which means she's been more talkative but Evelyn and I know that she's still not thrilled. As long as I've known Jolene, she's always had a thing for holding onto little incidents for as long as she can before even she knows it's enough.
"I will, have fun." Her hand raises as a quick wave but I don't return because she's gone before I can even lift a pinky.
It's shortly after noon when Evelyn appears for the first time today. However, in the heat, I'm surprised to see her with a thick fluffy blanket draped around her shoulders gripped tightly in her tiny hands. There's nothing to her besides blanket and knotted hair. The visual makes me wonder how she could possibly look any smaller than she already is but I leave it be. Dark circles take place under her clearly tired eyes, ten times darker than usual; did she sleep at all or has she fallen under the weather? Her feet shuffle toward the table. It's quite the scene to watch as she has a much more difficult time pulling out the chair than she would any other day, her hands refuse to release the blanket or move from keeping the fabric sturdy in place around her. I stay silent in the corner of the kitchen waiting patiently to see how this turns out but eventually she huffs and gives up, legs giving out from under her, and sinks to the floor leaning her head against the chair. "You're not feeling to well, are you?" I break the silence thinking she'd at least look my way but she doesn't even flinch at the sound of my voice. I reach in the drawer beside the stove, pulling out a pot and placing it on the surface. Seeing her like this is almost as awful as seeing her after Andrew rammed her door down. The way her face had gone beet red and puffy from sobbing had me feeling like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. Never did I expect to see her like that and never did I want to. That night is still so clear in my mind. Every event lead to another so smoothly as if we had landed ourselves in a movie. When all the commotion had died down and us adults sat quiet in the living room, I think we were all too unsure to say anything but I was new to it all whereas they have spent years dealing with this type of thing.  "Here," I say placing the bowl at her seat of the table, manoeuvring around her. I squat, my arms reach around her and I help lift her up, my left hand breaks free from her hold to pull out the chair. She sits with an hardly audible sigh, doing nothing but staring at the soup in front of her. Her attention is caught when I sit across from her with a bowl of my own. "To help you feel better." I stir my soup, hoping it'll cool down faster and can't help but notice that all she does for a minute or two is stare into space. "Might be best for you to go back to bed after you're done your soup with maybe a few more blankets. Sweat out the fever, you've probably just got the flu." If I saw correctly, she nodded at my words which was good enough of a response for me.
It takes a while longer than expected before she finishes ninety-five percent of the bowl before giving me a look telling me she's given up on the task. I stand, walking around the table to her side. Her eyes find mine in a way that made my stomach turn, she's incredibly vulnerable in this state. Those dull, ill filled eyes tell me she needs me and I want nothing more than to do just that; subconsciously my hand falls over hers, lying on the table top, and my fingers wrap around to touch her palm. I nod carefully, helping her up without breaking eye contact. With our hands together, my free hand wraps around her waist supporting her, her body leaning into mine. When we reach the staircase, her eyebrows scrunch upward with worrying eyes. Her head shakes as if she's assuring herself that she can make it up and clearly without my help since she chose to release my hand. Even though I'm not sure about the idea, I begin to head up with her behind following me closely. I hear her huff a few times and imagine how much difficulty she must be having so I quickly turn to watch her but am shocked when she's falling into my arms, her blanket covered hands hit my chest with a thump. I fell onto the step, now a sitting position with her standing between my legs.
"Are you all right."
"M'tripped," she mumbles although she knows how much the action irks me but with her feeling how she does, I don't get after her for it. We'll call it a free pass. At some point unknown, my arms snaked around her completely but neither of us spoke of it. She's so close, I mean, we've been closer but something in this moment is different than all those other times. My eyes flicker to her lips, lingering a moment too long without realization and is quickly fixed. Now is not the time to do this. No doubt she noticed and I just wish I could read her mind, I need to know what she's thinking.
"Hold onto me," I tell her with a wavering voice while I try to stand. She hunches the blanket far enough over her shoulders that she uses her hands to wrap her fingers in my belt loops, such an innocent act. I do what I can but she's settled with the back loops so all I can do is hope she doesn't let go.
Evelyn left her door open for the first time since I've lived here and it dawns on me how unsettling a cold can be that it has the capability of changes someone's habits and lifestyle. Her fingers still pull on my belt loops, she's walking at a slower pace, and don't release until I've sat her down at her nook so I can pull her sheets back far enough for her to get in and ready her for bed. She literally falls into bed when I bring her over to it and it's something I should've expected but alas, I didn't see that coming even in the slightest. "Okay," I say, pulling the covers over her, "I'll be right back, I'm going to grab you more blankets." An inaudible okay falls from her lips as I turn to walk out of the room in search of extra blankets. The cabinet beside the bathroom is surprisingly full which means Jolene must've done laundry before they headed out this morning. Which would be best: an array of light blankets or a thicker one with a thin one to go on top... probably the second option. So that's what I do, hopefully she's cool with that.
Evelyn watches me set the blankets on the chair at her desk to grab the thicker one. Her eyes don't leave me the entire time I throw them over her and oddly enough, I don't mind. "Is this okay, do you think you'll be warm enough?" She nods and my attention is drawn to the small fan beside the bed. "Think it may be best if that gets turned off."
"I need it," she pushes through with a weaker voice than normal.
"Evelyn leaving the fan on is only going to contradict what we're trying to do here. We need you to sweat this fever out so I need you to at least try to work with me."
She looks so uncomfortable at the idea, "fine," but her allowing me to turn it off feels like a blessing. I'm thankful she's listening to me, this cold needs to go away as fast as possible. I turn off the fan and go back to her to tuck her in on both sides as if she was a baby in need of being swaddled. "Try to rest, I'm going to head out for a bit but I should be back before you wake up." Little Evelyn turns in her tightly tucked cocoon, no longer looking the way it originally was, and rubs her head into one of her multiple pillows. A calming sight. I step out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me and hoping she's already drifted off into a deep slumber.
I don't know how long I've been in the pub downtown but I've definitely had more than three drinks. Meaning, I shouldn't allow myself to drive yet I know I'm going to do just that. The drink in my hand was close to finished which was my signal that I would be leaving for home back to an ill little lady who I've taken it upon myself to take care of. I'm hardly more than tipsy but either way, I need to be back at the house before Evelyn wakes up if she hasn't already and I desperately hope she hasn't. I create circles on the bar top counter with the glass, staring blankly at it. For some unknown reason the man, old in age, occupying the spot three stools away thought that was invitation enough to begin a conversation with me. I don't have time for this, she needs me.
"Who is she?" He asks, invading every sense of privacy I carry.
The glass against my fingertips cease to move another inch. "What?" I look his way.
"The girl on your mind, the reason you're here tonight."
I scoff, "you're talking crazy, man."
"So there's no girl then?" He continues prodding.
"Well, obviously, there's a girl but she's nothing to concern myself with."
"A girl is always something to concern oneself with." He's making a sad attempt to be wise and it's getting on my nerves.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you," I tell him.
"Listen to me. That girl you're caught up on must mean something to you if you're here. Just accept it and get involved."
Get involved, I think to myself shaking my head. "She's not exactly someone I can get involved with." I take a breath, "even if I wanted to, I can't," I add for the sole reason that I've been drinking and when I drink, she fills my mind, taking over every piece of common sense I've got.
"Tell me about her," he requests from me which I don't want to do but I choose to grant him his wish.
"She's blonde-" I start.
"No," he cuts me off, "not her looks, her as a person." I exhale and think, my eyes falling back to the glass.
"She's exciting, I never know what I'm going to get from her. We have a complicated relationship. She's full of not only piss and vinegar but also fire. She's confident, especially when she doesn't realize it, mostly when I'm around actually. I don't want to take credit for it though, it just seems like I bring out something rather... incredible in her."
"Does she do the same for you?"
"She makes someone I used to be show up every now and again and come alive. I among some other people I care about loved that version of me, it's been a long time since we've seen him."
"This may be out of place for me to say-"
"This whole conversation was out of place." I rudely interrupt, bringing my glass to my lips.
"... but, from what you've said it sounds like this lady in your life is important to you. So important, in fact, that you might love her."
I almost choke on my drink at the word. "What?" I ask, hoping I misheard him.
"You love her." I didn't hear him wrong.
"Look, man, I don't know what you're insinuating but you're way off base. I mean, I've known her her whole life so of course I love her but it's nothing more than a family type of love."
"I'm not insinuating anything, anyone can tell what you feel for this girl. I was happily married to my best friend for fifty-nine years, we spent every day together and fell more in love with each other every single day that passed until she did; now my heart aches for not being able to do just that because she's gone. There's nothing wrong with being in love. You better cherish it and her for as long as you can and your life will be fulfilled." In love? I'm not in love; I can't be.
I sit in the living room for what feels like hours on end and think of that conversation at the bar. I can't help but sober up a small amount but I suppose that's hard to do when you don't actually stop drinking. I immediately went to the kitchen when I arrived home - after what became a very interesting drive with a tad bit more swerving than I had originally anticipated - to grab myself a glass and a bottle of scotch hidden in one of the pantries. Sure have a glass or two of wine at dinner every day but noooo, better hide the scotch. The scotch is baaaad news. With the glass in my hand almost empty and the bottle slightly less than half full, I find myself so utterly baffled at the man's accusations regarding my feelings towards the young girl who's dad I call my best friend. It's absolutely preposterous that he could even for a second think I could be in love with anyone and especially her. I know we've had our moments but those were flittering and few and far between. Me love Evelyn? No way.
"Can you please help me wash my hair?" Her voice startles me. "I wouldn't ask if mom was home but it's just us and I feel disgusting right now." I check the time on my phone - eleven twenty-seven at night.
"Uh," I look at little Evelyn who came out of nowhere, wrapped up once again in her big fluffy blanket. She watches as I stand and make my way in front of her, head tilted up at me. "Come on, darling Evie, I've got you." She was prepared for me to say no, but she still seems to need me. I did what I could to not slur any of my words but I knew that she could tell I wasn't quite myself. I turn her around and follow her lead to the upstairs bathroom. While we're halfway up the stairs she almost trips on the blanket under her feet so I quickly grab both sides of the blanket to get it before she falls forward. She looks back at me, whispering a "thank you" and continues on her way but I don't let go just for safety precautions. I'll only be able to catch her properly if she falls back into me.
I turn the water on, the tub faucet now spurting out cold water. I keep turning until it feels warm enough, Evelyn every now and again putting her hand under it. Her blanket falls off her shoulders and I grab it to set it by the door then sit back by her. "Ready?" I ask. She nods, handing me a movie theatre cup from one of the specials, bending over the tub waiting for me to begin. I fill up the cup until it's close to the brim, my free hand separates Evelyn's hair while pouring so I can get through all her layers. I never thought she had this much hair. I have to fill up the cup four more times before her hair is completely soaked. "Which shampoo and conditioner is yours?" She looks up a smidge, pointing at the two bottles on the opposite ledge. I set down the cup and allow three pumps of shampoo fall in the palm of my hand, I rub my hands together in attempt to spread the contents so I can get an even coating. It's time, I can't avoid putting my hands through her hair - I said I'd help. I mutter an "okay" under my breath as my fingers push through her hair, suds quickly appearing but until they covered her hair completely, I didn't rinse. Conditioner was a whole other story, mixing with the water, it let my hands slip through her hair with ease. I didn't want the conditioning to be over so soon but it was surprisingly fast. It feels like it didn't cover every strand but I'm probably wrong so I wash my hands off under the faucet and fill the cup up to wash out the remaining substance.
"You're not sober," Evelyn finally says out loud as we sit on the floor of the bathroom. The towel in her hands lightly squeezes the ends of her damp locks.
"You're not healthy," I respond.
"Yes, but I didn't choose this; you did. That's what you were doing when I was asleep, you went drinking?"
"We're both in inebriated states just different variations."
"Leave it to you to use big words when you're smashed."
"Is that a quote?"
"Heath Ledger, 10 Things I Hate About You."
"A classic of the nineties."
"A classic of always." We sit in silence, I take into fact that she's clearly feeling a tad bit better since she's speaking much more than before. "Why did you do it?"
I make eye contact with her. "Do what?"
"Drink," she says as if it was clear there was no other answer.
"Had some thinking to do," I tell her truthfully.
"And you couldn't do it any other way?"
"Evelyn, I don't have to explain myself to you."
"Never said you did, just curious is all. Did you drive?" I gulp, hoping it went unnoticed and look away from her. "Are you serious, you drove?" She almost sounds upset.
"What if I did."
"I can't believe you." She stands much faster than she should've and leaves the bathroom. I'm not too sure if she meant for her door to slam but it did and that's when the immense guilt kicked in.