Boobs and Other Potty Mouthed Words

Chapter 15: Ryan Takes A Walk

In every good story, there is a person who is told to stay away from something. No, I'm fairly serious. Look, a bunch of guys have been told to stay away from stuff and a lot of the smart guys do stay away from that. But the guys who care? The guys who holds a passion for something or someone? You can't pry them from that. No matter the warnings, and God knows how stupid I am. As I walk through the doors of the waiting room and see Grace yelling at a nurse to lead her to the nearest doctor, or simply to her mother, I see her face red. I see her eyes filling with tears from helplessness and aggravation. How do I tell her something that will crush her even more? How do I tell we something that will tear me away from her? I can't do it. It's not in my power. She has me in her grasp and I don't want her to let go. I'm an idiot, I'll admit it. I see this forbidden fruit, this beautiful woman, and I don't want to deny myself from this. I want to be there for her. And I love her...so what if there's a white lie between us...?

I walk to her, my jaw clenching. I wrap my arm around her torso, looking at the person speaking to her. Getting caught up quickly. "I'll lead you to her," A doctor comes between the nurse and Grace as I come. "She is fragile. Tired. There was a lot of bleeding." Grace nods looking up to the doctor.

"Where's Justin?" Grace asks me looking around. I look around and see no sign of him.

"I'll look for him," I say kissing her forehead. "What's the room?" I ask the doctor.

"348." He replies to me. I nod and leave. I go the opposite way of where Grave ended up. Passing by the waiting room, I walk down the hospital's narrow hallway.

Smelling the scent of old people mixed with hand sanitizer. There is nothing creepier than a hospital. It makes us realize how mortal we are. We come here to keep our life going for longer. We come here to die. We come here to save our lives and end our lives. Fucking morbid.

I pass by the dark cafeteria, noticing a figure sitting in the shadows a silhouette showing from the gentle beams of the moon. I enter the cafeteria slowly watching Justin's head move to me.

"Do you know how much often I've come to hospitals?" He asks me with sober eyes. I shake my head, taking a seat across from him.

"Our dad has always struggled with alcohol. He has been in car accidents. He has almost died from too much. He caught hypothermia one year cause he passed out in a snowbank." He chuckles, shaking his head. "One year he slammed a beer bottle on the ground and cut Grace's foot. She had to get stitches. You see, there are drunks who keep to themselves. There are some who whimper. There are some who drink to be the life of the party. And then you got people, like my dad, who get drunk and get angry. She'll never talk about the night she was rushed into the ER to get stitches. She was apologizing the whole way there. She felt ashamed and he was cursing her. Blaming her." Justin runs his hands across his jeans. "It gets me so pissed when I see him drunk."

I sit staring at Justin. There is a part of me that wants to comfort him, tell him I can relate. But every pain is different. Justin's pain is a result of a mad drunk. Mine is the whimpering drunk. And she would never harm anyone. She would never blame someone for her anger. So this leaves me speechless.

He takes a deep breath. "You're here to tell me Grace is looking for me. She got Mom's room number or something. Truth be told, I don't want to go in. I don't want to see my mother like that. I don't want to explain that her husband made a fool out of himself. I don't want to explain the reasons, again, why she should divorce him..." He rubs the back of his neck. "I say a lot of things in the heat of the moment. And perhaps I say things that make me sound like an ass. So, when I said those things back there... I'm not sure if you fully understood."

"I don't think I want to talk about that." I say softly. His eyes flicker to me in a glare and then look back ahead, away from me.

"My father has been thrown out so much. And has been welcomed back with open arms because he promises to go to AA meetings. To quit drinking. Because he loves us. I believe he loves us. Like I believe you love Grace. I know you, you don't just say those things. But I have come to notice that he only says those things so we love him back. He deceives us with love." He pauses pressing his lips together in thought.

"I...." I stop myself. Unsure of what to say.

"Loving someone doesn't mean you deceive them." He finally says standing up. "Let's go." I watch him leave before standing up slowly and walking after him. We enter the room seeing a dimmed room, the mother laying on her side, Grace tucked in a ball, holding onto her mother's hand while they both sleep. Justin look at them and gives a small smile, I do the same. I go over to Grace and touch her cheek.

"I love her." I mumble looking over at him. "I can't break her heart. Not right now."

Justin's smile turns quickly into a frown. He looks over to me before giving a slow nod, understanding the dilemma. He nods out to follow him and we walk out, leaving the two females to hold onto each other. We take a walk down the dark hallways, whispering to each other.

"Are we supposed to walk down the hallways this late at night?" I ask him, he shakes his head.

"Nope." He smiles at me. "But when you're here as much as I have been, you tend to bend the rules. And people don't care." He yawns.

"I wasn't expecting to love her." I say stopping myself in my tracks, freezing. My legs stiffening. "I was expecting to laugh at her stories. Sob stories. I thought my life was so much more worse than hers that I'd find....sadistic pleasure in listening to them."

"What did you find instead?" Justin asks, looking over at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I found...." I sigh. "I found that I was able to empathize with her. That underneath every story I was able to find something to relate to. I was able to make her smile and me doing that made me smile. I found out that we are the same. We are all humans."

"You know what I like about books shows that humanize criminals?" He asks me shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What?" I ask pressing my lips together.

"You end up feeling for them," He pauses looking around. "You know if a guy showed up on t.v. saying he shot someone..he's arrested. You look over at the story and go, 'good for nothing criminal.' but do you think their mother is saying that? Their friends? No. They're mourning the criminal. And you wait a couple of months...years... this huge biography about how his life was complete and utter shit and that's what lead to his destruction you go, 'that's so sad.' Given our backgrounds we could all end up the killer. We all have something to kill for. We've all found hurt. We've all found pain. So what is the difference really between us and people who take revenge? We follow the law. We follow rules. We let time heal us. We forgive. But we always find some kind of humanity."

There is a long drawn out pause. Where we both turn around and start walking back to the waiting room. The dim lights flickering above our heads. I guess I'm the criminal for lying for wanting to laugh at her hurt. For every bad thing I've done. But I still love her.

"You know..." I say holding in a chuckle. "that might've been the deepest thing you've ever said."

"Don't get used to it. I don't like to be depressing." Justin shrugs it off walking to a chair. He yawns. "You should go home. Get a change of clothes."

"Do you want me to stop by your house and get something for you buddy?" I ask him. "I'll come back in the morning."

"Yes. With real food? Grab a change of clothes for me and Grace. I don't think my mom is gonna be changing out of those hospital clothes for a while."

"Alright." I say clearing my throat and standing up.

"The spare key is under a metal thing in our mailbox. It's hard not to miss." He says rubbing his neck.

"If Grace wakes up before I'm back-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll tell her you're coming. Bye, bro." He waves at me half heartedly. I know he's angry. I know he wishes I could at least tell her. But I can't. Not right now.

"Bye." I say softly walking away. I slide in my car rubbing my eyes out of their tiredness and start the car, driving home first.

I'm greeted by no one. I check and see all my siblings tucked away happily. Chinese food left on the counter. Mom holding her regular glass. I take it from her and put it on the table next to her before sliding onto the couch and passing out accepting my existence for what it is.

I'm a criminal. But I love her so.