Chapter 72
Ardal
"How do I attract these people?"
It’s late and the kids are tucked away in bed while I try to get some chores done. Hot water trickles down my arms while I rinse the dirty dishes that have piled up in the sink.
I’ve got Julia on speaker, phone perched on the countertop. She snickers on the other end of the line.
"I'm serious,” I say, slamming the silverware into the bin of the dishwasher one by one, “It’s unbelievable. I can’t get rid of these… creatures that follow me everywhere. Ever since we got here, it's been nothing short of a disaster! That hypnotist freak on the plane…”
My fingers clench tightly around the bottle of dish soap as I attempt to squeeze out the last sudsy droplets. With an accompanying sneer, I imagine I’m gripping the neck of that pig, Mateo, instead. The viscous blue liquid coils out from the little spout, bubbling ever so sweetly.
“And just when I finally let my guard down, thinking I found some amazing doctor,” I say as I heave a deep sigh, staring up at the cobwebbed ceiling above me, “He turns out to be a lunatic who wants to lure me away into another pack!” My knuckles turn white as I furiously scour a plate encrusted with food remains.
“There are freaks everywhere,” Julia says. “Don’t sweat it, but I do think you should find a different pediatrician.”
I huff and add the plate to the bottom rack of the dishwasher.
“You’re right,” I say, barely suppressing a groan at the injustice of it. “It’s just hard to switch when Erbao’s so comfortable with Jack, but I’ll talk to the clinic tomorrow.”
I hear the pop and fizz of Julia’s sparkling water can opening. "And what about Kadeem,” she asks.
I fling a mug into the top rack with a clank. "Don't even mention his name!"
Julia chuckles softly. "Sorry, I hit the sore spot.”
I quickly rinse off the final item in the sink and do a little tetris so I can cram it into a narrow opening. “You hit no spot,” I say, indignantly.
“Come on. This is me you’re talking to.”
“Fine.” I slam the dishwasher closed. “I don’t know how to tell him, Julia. I have to tell him, because Erbao’s life depends on it… but I’m terrified all the same.”
I slump against the counter, wishing my situation wasn’t so complicated.
I hear Julia take a sip of her drink. “Mmm,” she mutters, “I mean, there’s no way it won’t be awkward or tense.”
I can already picture myself, standing in front of Kadeem:
‘Hi, you don’t remember me, but I’m your dead ex-wife, Ardal. Oh, and I need one of your kidneys.’
Julia continues, “And if that’s true, then there really are no ‘right’ words, are there?”
“Well,” I say, brightly, “What if I ran with, ‘I’m aware of the mole at the base of your penis.’”
“Ardal.”
I open up the fridge, searching through the contents for something to snack on.
“And then I’ll continue on to blow his mind with all the additional facts I know about him… just before I lean in with the punch line of who I am.” I grab out a jar of pickles and wrench them open.
I mean to be absurd, of course, but then my heart begins to carry me away. I’d tell Kadeem about that mole, just as I’d tell him how he enjoys his eggs (over easy). I’d tell him how freakishly sensitive he is to getting brain-freeze whenever he eats ice cream - and how ridiculous he looks shoveling it in with one hand, while he’s holding his head in the other, groaning in agony, but undeterred.
I’d tell him I know he voted for Clay Aiken during American Idol’s season two finale (I’ve never forgiven him), that he has approximately five million articles from Forbes Business favorited on his web browser, and that I know, although his dad passed away years ago, Kadeem still has him saved as a “Favorite” contact on his phone.
Julia exhales heavily, “Ahh, you.”
Me.
I take a bite of pickle. “Actually,” I say, “If I shock him right off the bat, the rest would probably come easier, don’t you think?”
I picture Julia’s likely eye roll.
“I support you, regardless,” she says. Then her voice softens, “No matter what, I’m here for you.”
My heart is thumping with nervous energy, but with the boost from Julia, I’ve gathered my courage and I’m ready to confess everything to Kadeem.
I plan to grab him at work right away, so we can talk privately in his office before everyone else starts to trickle in.
Maybe I’ll skip the part where I tell him who I am, and just, straight-up, ask for a kidney for Erbao…
I go back and forth on that part, but ultimately, if I’m going to ask for something so big, the only fair thing, really, is to let him know my mini-pack of six-year olds are his, too.
I only hope I’m not misjudging things. There’s the lingering fear in the back of my mind that he will never agree to help if he knows it’s me - his “murderous” ex-wife - who’s asking.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the door of the gym’s back entrance, round the hall to his office, only to find it closed. I knock and wait a few minutes, but he doesn’t answer.
Heart still pounding, I hear a noise and make my way to the main entrance. Greta’s there, instead, flipping on the light above the check-in desk.
“Hey Chelsea,” she says, leaning over to fire up the two computers on the counter.
“Where’s Kadeem,” I ask, trying to cut to the chase. I’m beginning to feel more and more jittery and I’m anxious to rip off the bandaid.
“Out for the day,” she says, keeping her eye on the computer screens. “Pack business.”
Same old runaround.
Disappointed, I trudge through the club all day. When Dylan arrives, he gleefully tries to high-five me again, and looks crestfallen at my tepid response when I half-heartedly hang my hand in the air. I suspect my clients are probably also a little thrown by my energy-shift.
Before stepping out into the sun-baked street for the evening, my phone bleats with a text from Jack.
“Ardal, I’m right around the corner from the gym. Can we talk for a few minutes?"
My stomach churns as I digest his message. I want to die at the thought of seeing him again. I'm also ready to slap myself, because I've just remembered I forgot to call the clinic today to set Erbao up with a different doctor!
Son of a bitch.
I grit my teeth in frustration. Jack obviously didn't get the message yesterday. I'm just going to set things clear with him so we can both move on.
Wearily, I step onto the sidewalk out front and find him standing with his hands in his pockets. His face is drawn and pale.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out immediately. "I shouldn't have asked you to do something so drastic and rash, on so little information." He shuffles awkwardly from one foot to another. "I didn't mean to scare you away, and I hate that I did."
My chest is tight. I bite my lip and look away, unsure of how to respond.
"Maybe, I was too rash," I say hesitantly. "I don't know, I was just spooked."
"I know," he says, finding my eyes. "And it wasn't you, it was me. I'm... I've been working on something - something to help someone I love."
I blink in surprise, wondering about this part of his life he's never shared with me, but then it occurs to me again - I don't actually know anything about him, other than his job and the fact that he lives alone in a loft apartment downtown.
"I think it could help Erbao, too," Jack says with timid hope in his tone. "I've been caught up in the promise of it, and this thing is so tantalizingly big and wonderful, that it got the better of me yesterday." His eyes are shining again with excitement.
What the hell has he been up to? Despite the warmth outside, goosebumps appear on my arms.
My throat feels like sandpaper, but I manage to croak out a response. "Well, it's just, you weren't giving me any real details, you know?"
Jack sighs. "I know. I wish I could tell you more. I just don't know if..." He swipes back his blond hair. "It is actually pretty wild," he says, "Completely out of the realm of medicine - right, smack dab, in the magical."
"Fellow werewolf here, though," I say, holding up my hand and breaking into a smile. "The supernatural isn't exactly out of the left field, but when you present it like some mysterious miracle, it sounds -"
"Delusional?" Jack winces at his own foolishness, pink coloring his cheeks.
"More like my creepo-meter was sounding off," I say, putting my hand on my hip and raising my eyebrow in mock sternness.
He groans and places his hand above his eyes, embarrassment pouring out from every pore. "Geeze, yeah. I get that now."
My heart swells with compassion as I study the figure before me, and the part of me that remains on-guard gives way. His eyes are still hidden by his hand, his face scrunched up with the sting of shame. Without hesitation, I reach out and gently pull his hand away from his face.
"It's okay, Jack." I offer him a nervous half-smile and he shoots me a tender, grateful grin in response.
"Ardal," he asks. "Do you think... can we just start again?"
