Love, Cutter

Chapter 4

Chapter 2

HE EASED IN AND OUT OF consciousness, so it was difficult to tell how long it had been. Every now and then someone would come in, but no one talked to him. His mother sat next to the bed and, as far as he knew, she hadn’t moved in two shift changes. He heard her on the phone earlier with her assistant, Deborah, his now ex-best friend’s mother, crying. His mother’s crying didn’t even affect him anymore. He’d heard that same cry so many times that he’d become, not just immune, but repelled by it.

“What did we do wrong?”

Same story as always. It’s about you.

He could likely give them a long list… That is, if he could talk.

Whooshing sound again.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Susan.”

“Hello, Kinley.”

“How’s our boy doing today?”

“The doctor put in his chart that the scans won’t be back until this afternoon, but his vitals are fairly stable though, so that’s something.”

“Yes, that is very encouraging,” Kinley gasped, “Ms. Susan, are you okay?”

Don’t ask her that, it only makes her pity herself more.

His mother took in a long slow breath. Kinley is in for an earful of the biggest pity party his mother can conjure.

“Yeah. Well, no. I am… lost, to be honest.”

Oh no, not lost. That’s one I haven’t heard before.

“Well, Ms. Susan, I can tell you at times like these, we are all lost.” Kinley’s voice softened.

“I would take his place if I could,” his mother added.

Not likely. There aren’t Louboutin’s where I am mother.

“Well, if it helps any, that wouldn’t make things better… just different.” Kinley took a quick breath, “Either way someone would be left alone.”

Oh please, can you both take this outside?

“I see the doubt by the way you are looking at me Ms. Susan, but leaving a child alone here in the world is no better.”

“Kinley,” his mother patted the seat next to her, “can you come sit for a second?”

Don’t sit. She’ll suck you in.

He could hear the standard issue hospital vinyl next to his mother squeaking as she sat.

“Carter…,” his mother sniffed, “has always been my baby. He was the sweetest child. I even felt as though he was fragile at times.”

Fragile. Great.

“Mainly, because he wanted his father, Norman, to be proud of him.” Susan continued, “It’s weird, you know, being a parent, you want to do the right thing for your kids, but no one tells you what that is. You only learn when it’s not.”

You must’ve learned a lot over the years.

“I’m so sorry for what you are all going through.” Kinley said with a crack in her voice.

“Well,” his mother gained her ever ready composure, “enough about poor ol’ me.”

There was a long pause before Carter heard the vinyl squeak again.

“Have a good day, Kinley,” he heard his mother’s voice by the door, “You are very thoughtful, seems your parents did a fine job raising you.”

Then the door, whoosh.

Silence.

He thought maybe Kinley had left too somehow, until he heard her breathing.

No, that’s not breathing.

“No, my parents didn’t do a fine job raising me,” she whispered.

Carter was helpless, he listened as Kinley softly wept.

***

Kinley parked her car and took a deep breath. Her apartment complex loomed over her. She’d come so far in the past few years. There were days she allowed her mind to wander. She would think back and cry. The pocket knife still sits in her nightstand, waiting to be inspected again. It will always be a reminder of where she’s been. Most days, Kinley felt emptiness, followed by guilt, then thankfulness because of her Grams. She felt the tear fall down her face and took a deeper breath than before.

Disgusted with herself for falling into pity, again, she opened the door and tossed her purse onto the couch. Her next shift was in eight hours so she knew she’d better get some sleep.

Kinley often envied people who lie down at night and simply fall into a deep, restful slumber. Every time someone says they are asleep before their head hits the pillow, she can’t relate. For her, nighttime was always restless. She found out the hard way that her brain thrived on quiet; so did her anxiety.

She thought briefly about the new patient. Attempted suicide.

It’s weird how people are so different.