When he returned to the room, he put on a pair of jeans he’d left on the bed and made a face. He turned toward the mirror and cinched them at the waist to keep them from falling down below the waistband of his underwear. He figured he must have lost at least ten pounds and hadn’t even realized it. It was a good thing he’d brought a belt, because he’d lost so much weight he would have had to borrow a safety pin from someone to hold his jeans up. A month earlier, these sagging jeans had been his tight skinny jeans, the low-rise jeans that had hugged his hips and made his butt look bigger than it really was.
The last time he’d worn jeans similar to these he’d met three young guys at a bar in Chelsea. He’d been so drunk that night the most he remembered about them in detail was that they all had dark hair and deep voices. While they kept buying him drinks and talking dirty to him, he flirted and squeezed their muscles. When they told him they wanted to take him someplace and fuck his brains out, he kissed them all and agreed to go after one more drink. When he woke up in a hospital the next day, he had no idea someone had found him unconscious in an alley with his jeans down around his ankles. Evidently, the three young guys had raped him, robbed him, beaten him, and left him between two overflowing trash cans and a broken statue of St. Francis that someone had discarded. The police said he was lucky they hadn’t beaten him to death. The doctors said he was lucky he’d only suffered broken ribs and he wouldn’t need plastic surgery. His best friend, Michele, said it was time to go back to Havilland.
While he was standing in front of the mirror rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down oxford, one of the aides walked into his room and stared at him for a second. “I wanted to see if you’re okay. I know you’re leaving today.” She was an older woman with salt and pepper hair and a full figure, who always wore those unstructured nurses’ uniforms in pastel colors that had themes with little teddy bears or smiley faces. She reminded Evan of a favorite aunt he’d had as a child.
Evan laughed and said, “Get me a pizza so I can fit into these jeans, Mary.” He turned sideways and pressed his palm to his sunken stomach. “I can’t believe how much weight I lost.”
She laughed and patted her round stomach. “Don’t complain about that to me if you know what’s good for you.” Then she hugged him and said, “I’m going off duty now. I just wanted to say goodbye and check in on you one more time. I’m not supposed to get close to the patients, but you’re my favorite. You never complain, you say thank you all the time, and you always make me smile.”
This aide had been there the past two times Evan had been admitted to the twenty-eight day program. She knew what he’d been through; she’d seen how bruised he’d been when he’d arrived. He squeezed her tightly and said, “I’m going to miss you. You’ve made this place tolerable. But I’m not coming back again. This is it for me. I’m done.”
She stepped back and looked him up and down. Then she smiled and said, “That’s good, because as much as I love you, I don’t want to see you here again.”
After he thanked her again for everything she’d done for him while he’d been there, she left the room and Evan walked to the window. At the exact moment he glanced out, he saw a sleek black Mercedes sedan pull up to the front entrance. He held his breath for a moment as he watched an attractive young woman with long blond hair climb out of the driver’s side. She wore a black blazer, a short beige skirt, and fawn leather pumps. She looked as if she were going to meet a friend for lunch instead of picking one up from a rehab clinic. Evan crossed to the bed and picked up his bags. He glanced around to make sure he’d packed everything, then turned toward the door. Before he left the room, he looked back one last time and said, “This is the last time.” Then he turned fast and went down to meet his best friend in the main lobby.
Chapter Two
When he reached the staircase that led to the main lobby, he glanced to the left and saw Michele sitting in wing chair beside a large fireplace reading a magazine. The moment his foot landed on the bottom step, Michele glanced up and their eyes met. He sent her a smile from across the room and she stood up and smoothed out her skirt.
She’d been one of his best friends since college. They’d met each other their freshman year while they’d both been in the infirmary dealing with a couple of the less serious STDs. It hadn’t been Evan’s first time taking penicillin and it wouldn’t be his last. But Michele had never been there before, and she had no idea what to do about a bad case of crabs. Evan had gotten her through it, then through two failed marriages after that. She’d always been there for him as well, and he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to pick him up from Havilland that day.
Michele met him in the middle of the lobby and reached for one of his bags. On the way out, Evan hugged a few nurses and said goodbye to Havilland for the last time. When he stepped outside, he felt a little shaky. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d been through this before: the overwhelming moment someone returns to the real world after weeks of virtual isolation in a protected environment. He knew it would pass.
It was one of those late autumn mornings with crisp cool air and only a few clouds in the sky. The leaves had already turned red, orange, and yellow and half had already fallen to the ground. When he glanced up at the sky to take a deep breath, Michele closed the trunk, handed him the car keys, and said, “Here you go.”
He flung her a stare. “I don’t know if I want to drive today.” She opened the passenger door and said, “Well, I know I don’t want to drive. Besides, it’ll be good for you to get back behind the wheel again.”
Although Evan hadn’t owned a car in a long time, he always drove when he was with Michele because she hated to drive. She wasn’t a bad driver. But she hated the thought of driving so much she would let anyone else with a license take over if it was at all possible. So he took the keys and walked to the driver’s side without putting up a fight.
On the way back to the city, they talked about mutual friends and a few new stores Michele wanted to show him next week. Then Michele went into detail about a new diet she’d just started. From what Evan could gather, it had something to do with eating raw organic veggies and a great deal of protein. Although Michele was only about ten pounds overweight, she’d been fighting with that same ten pounds for the past ten years and had never been able to lose them. This hadn’t been the first diet she’d tried and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. He tended to drift off into deep thought during these conversations and he missed more than half of what she said.