Page 32 of Starry Tides
Bethany dug her head deeper into the pillow, again thinking of Helena, of how lonely she might be on the first floor. “Listen, Rod,” she said. “There’s a woman here at the hospital I need totalk to. She’s in Room 33 down below. Do you think you could take me?”
Rod furrowed his brow. “Can’t that wait till tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so,” Bethany admitted.
It took a little coaxing. But finally, Rod helped Bethany gently into a wheelchair, then rolled her into the hall and toward the elevator. Bethany had donned a big sweater to hide her hospital gown beneath. But she didn’t let herself think too much about what Helena would say of her condition. She was looking for Bethany. She wanted whatever solace Bethany brought.
Bethany half wondered if her own interest in Helena’s condition had prompted Helena to think about her own future, to demand more for herself. But she guessed it had more to do with something else—the beauty of sunsets, the gorgeousness of living on Nantucket. Or maybe it had more to do with someone else, like Matteo.
Outside Room 33, Bethany asked Rod to step in and ask Helena if she was okay to see visitors. Rod did, then returned and said, “She’s ready for you.” He wheeled her in, then stepped out of the room, leaving the women alone. Bethany found herself beside a tanner and more vibrant version of the weak, gaunt woman she’d met months before. She was connected to an IV, and her heart monitor beeped at a comfortable pace. Helena looked at Bethany as though she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“I’m pregnant,” Bethany explained with the wave of her hand. “Bed rest. It’s miserable.”
Helena nodded. “I’ve been on bed rest for what feels like the past five years.”
“Then you know how annoying it is.”
“I know what it’s like to feel like you’re going to spend the rest of your life in bed,” Helena affirmed, her voice floaty.
Bethany reached over to take Helena’s hand, right there on Helena’s bed.
“It’s been a while since I was a patient in a hospital,” Helena admitted. “I was in and out of hospitals all the time there for a while. For my parents. They had better health insurance than I did.” She laughed gently. “Honestly, I can’t believe I have health insurance now. I can’t believe I gave in to all that.”
“It’s wonderful,” Bethany said, wondering what had changed in Helena’s life. “You can get the help you need.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Helena admitted. “But it’s nice to know that I might be comfortable during my last days, whenever they come. And…” She trailed off. “And I’ve been having a better time than I have in years. I started making art again. It’s gone better than I ever could have imagined.”
Bethany realized now that she’d always known Helena was an artist, that there was something magical and mystical about the woman’s soul that had to go somewhere—into her art, into the world.
Tears began to drizzle down Bethany’s cheeks. “For years, I’ve wondered—is this my last week? My last hour? I haven’t been able to plan. Honestly, it’s been the worst kind of torture. The only reason I forced myself to leave my hometown was that I ran into my ex’s new girlfriend and realized how awful I must look to them. I didn’t want to be seen.”
Bethany filled her lungs. “What led you to Nantucket?”
“My father was from here,” Helena breathed. “He always talked about it like it was the most beautiful painting he’d ever seen. And now, being here, seeing the sunlight on the water every day, I get what he meant. I don’t get out much. I hardly see more than my own stretch of the beach. But that was more than enough, until today when I found myself with the stupid idea to go for a long, long walk.” She tried to laugh, but the smile fell off her lips.
Bethany pushed for more details. She could feel Rod in the hallway, beaming his need at her to go back upstairs, to get back in bed. But she had to stay here with Helena a little while longer.
Helena explained that her ex-husband had called to ask for money. “It destroyed my sense of self,” she said. “I can’t explain it. He still has this awful hold on me.”
“What a monster,” Bethany said. She again thought of Matteo at the burger restaurant, the ache in his eyes. “Helena, what happened with Matteo?”
Helena grimaced and let her eyes drop. “He sent me flowers. He wrote his number on a card. I haven’t known how to call him.”
“And why not?” Bethany asked. “There was obviously something beautiful between you two.”
“We didn’t know each other,” Helena said. “Not really. It was all probably in my head.”
“I don’t think it was.”
Helena had begun to cry again. “It isn’t fair to him to bring him into a life that’s already over. I’m doing my best to ‘carpe diem,’ of course. But that’s on my own terms. That has nothing to do with him, his story, or his future. He’s a beautiful person. I don’t want to hurt him.”
Helena’s eyes were filled with a longing that Bethany couldn’t fully name. It was clear she was hungry for fresh stories, for a new reality for herself. But she didn’t think her body could handle it.
“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to explain it to him?” Bethany asked, finally. “Don’t you think he should be able to make his own decisions about who’s in his life, about who he spends his time with?”
Helena raised her eyebrows but remained quiet and thoughtful, as though she’d never considered that side of it before.
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