1
Olive
When we meet again…
"It is possible to have sex with more than one person at the same time even though it is not possible to love more than one person at one time.”
This is what Sydney says when I ask her to tell me what is going on in her life.
We are sitting in the waiting room with our legs crossed facing each other. I am holding a small paper cup filled with black coffee that she bought me from the vending machine.
Two gulps later, all of the liquid is gone and my tongue is on fire.
She wants to talk about Owen and his medical condition.
She wants to hold my hand and hold me while I cry.
But I want her to tell me about all of the people that she and James have slept with over the last two months.
I’ve spent almost five days here, breathing the stale recycled air and walking up and down the polished squeaky floors.
I know almost all of the nurses by name and the shifts that they tend to work. I know how many kids they have and how many men have disappointed them.
Time passes slowly here on the fourth floor and when bursts of excitement do occur, they are not particularly life-affirming.
Nicholas doesn’t think that I should spend so much time here, even though he stops short of actually telling me this.
My mother, on the other hand, doesn’t. She has visited Owen twice since he fell into the coma and each visit was only an hour or so.
When I ask her why she doesn’t stay longer, she says that she’ll come back if his condition changes but she has her own life to lead.
“If his condition changes.”
She doesn't even do me the courtesy of saying when.
That’s just another lie, of course. We both know that there is nothing much really to do besides lie in her recliner and watch hours of television while smoking.
Given that the chairs here have straight backs and thin padding and there are no-smoking signs everywhere, Owen should probably consider himself lucky that she has visited the few times that she has.
“Are you sure you want me to talk about this?” Sydney asks, shifting her weight from one side of the chair to another.
She has always enjoyed food and the body that came with that indulgence, but during her time in Hawaii, she seemed to have gained a few pounds.
“Your breasts look…bigger, if that’s even possible,” I point out.
Her eyes light up. “Yeah, they are. I gained some weight and luckily it seemed to all go to my chest.”
“I bet James likes that.” I smile.
“He likes everything about this,” she says, running her index finger up and down her curves. “Can’t get enough.”
I have known Sydney long enough to remember when she struggled with accepting herself.
There were many crash diets, five-day water fasts, and hours at the gym. All of this effort produced only temporary results.
While I admire the woman that she has become, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I was also more than a little bit jealous.
Though I am only a little bit overweight according to the dreadful body-mass index scale, I hate every roll and curve.
I want to look perfect even though I know that there is no such thing. I want to look toned and fit and with a small waist. I want to have the kind of body that I think Nicholas deserves (even though he is more than happy with the one I have).
This is my dirty little secret, the one no one knows except me. No one, not even Sydney, who knows everything.
I dig my fingers into the packet of salty potato chips and shove a handful into my mouth.
When I lick my fingers dry of all of the crumbs, I nod for her to continue.
“We don’t have to talk about this,” she whispers, looking around.
The waiting room is deserted and there is less than a foot of space between us.
“I’d like to hear more because it’s…distracting me and I need some distraction. But if you don’t want to share, that’s fine.”
Her eyes light up when she leans closer to me. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before,” she says, licking her lips.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, with my ex…he wasn’t into anything like this, he was quite conservative in the bedroom. So, after we broke up, I went to some of these clubs by myself. But doing this with a man I love…it’s just…there is nothing like it.”
She twirls her hair and looks up at the ceiling like a lovesick schoolgirl.
“What kind of stuff have you done?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath before giving me all of the details.
They have fooled around with two sets of couples and then with two couples at once.
They have fooled around with a single woman who only wanted to be with her.
She has been with two men at once, one of them being James.
“What do you like best?” I ask.
“It’s a different experience every time. People are different. There are different levels of physical and emotional chemistry. I like this one couple we met a few times but it’s also because we got to know them quite well. We went out to dinner, clubbing, that kind of thing.”
“And doing all of this, it doesn’t have a bad impact on your relationship? I mean, is there jealousy, or resentment, or anything like that?”
“Nope.” Sydney shakes her head. “I thought that maybe there would be at first, but since we were into this right from the beginning, I think that’s what helped us avoid all of that.”
“But you always do it together? You are always both in the room when it happens?” I ask.
“Yes.” She nods. “That’s the only rule. We both have to be there.”
2
Olive
When I see him…
I don’t expect Sydney to stay more than a few hours but she refuses to leave without me. We curl up in those light pink chairs with the spindly legs and talk for hours as if we were back in college.
A nurse brings us blankets to keep us warm and gives us the remote to change the channel, but we just turn the television off and bury our heads in her phone watching our favorite funny YouTube videos.
It doesn’t take long for me to relax and actually forget why we’re both here.
Finally, around one o’clock in the morning, after yet another coffee and Red Bull run, Sydney asks me to take her to see Owen.
“Only if you promise to go home,” I say.
“I’ll only go home when you do.”
I smile and give her a nod.
“Are you actually planning on sleeping here?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
I have already spent a few nights in those chairs before and they were not at all restful.
“You need some real sleep, Olive. You’re not doing anyone any good running yourself ragged like this.”
She’s right, of course. I need to take care of myself so that I can be there for Owen.
“I’m just…afraid of leaving him,” I say.
This is the first time I have admitted this fear out loud and it sends shivers down my body.
She waits for me to explain.
I go into as much detail about the shooting as I can before I start to feel physically sick and have to turn away from her.