Chasing Chaos: A Novel (21 page)

“Her
name’s Miranda.”

Tory
rolled Daphne into a curtained-off space, then helped her lie down on her
stomach. Then she sat on a wheeled stool near Daphne’s feet.

Using
a pair of blunt-tipped scissors, Tory snipped the socks from Daphne’s body,
exposing the wounds on the soles of her feet.

“Eek,
Daphne. Your feet look terrible.”

“What
do they look like?”

“You
want me to take a picture with your phone?”

Daphne
giggled through her tears. “Sure. Here.”

She
handed Tory her phone. Tory snapped a picture then handed it back.

“Oh.
I see.” Daphne looked at the picture. “Ground beef. Why didn’t you just say
so?”

“Employee
handbook says to be polite.” Tory dug around in some drawers. “I’m going to
inject you with some lidocaine to help with the pain. Then I’m going to tweeze
out all of the glass and metal and stuff.” Once she had her tools set up on a
tray, Tory pulled some magnifying goggles over her eyes. “You ready?”

“Go
ahead.”

She
considered rejecting the lidocaine. After all, she deserved to feel the pain.

“My
friend Dan,” she said to Tory, “he’s the one who died. My friend Carrie—she was
in the car with him. I don’t know how she is.”

“She’s
been admitted for observation, but word is she’s fine.”

Daphne
felt Tory pull a piece of car wreck detritus from her foot. She dropped it in a
metal basin. Daphne heard a plinking noise. Another tweeze. Another plink.
Tweeze. Plink.

Daphne
put her face in her hands and sobbed.

After
a while, the tweezing stopped. Daphne felt a cool liquid on her feet.

“No
stitches?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Tory.

“Nope.
I used a little glue here and there but you should be fine without stitches if
you take it easy. But you do need a tetanus shot. I’m going to let everything
dry before I bandage you up. Sit tight.”

Daphne
nodded.

Tory
rolled backwards on her stool until her head poked out of the curtained area.
She spoke to someone in a low voice, then rolled back in.

“Where
is she?” Daphne heard a familiar voice call out from beyond the curtain. “Do
you know where she is, Tall Person in Scrubs?” The voice was insistent.
Demanding. Pushy.

Daphne
smiled. “That’s my friend,” she said to Tory.

Tory
rolled out of the curtains again. “Miranda? We’re in here.”

Daphne
heard Miranda’s swift footsteps, like a two-legged torpedo coming her way. But
Miranda was Daphne’s torpedo. Whatever had happened earlier tonight with John,
the stakes were higher now. Miranda was someone you wanted on your side when
everything was fucked, and Miranda was on Daphne’s side.

Miranda
slipped through the curtains and took in the scene. She looked at Daphne’s
feet. “You step on a land mine?”

“Totally
looks like it,” said Tory. “But apparently these injuries are just a
manifestation of her roadside heroism. Let me bandage them up now.”

“Of
course.” Miranda squatted near Daphne’s head and took her hand. Miranda was
still wearing her dress from the party, although she’d swapped her high heels
for flip-flops. “Tell me what happened.”

Daphne
told Miranda the story of the night after Marlon received the phone call from
Carrie. Of waiting for news about Dan in the surgical wing. Of worrying about
Carrie but not being able to see her. Of Marlon’s harsh words to her, and even
of what Marlon was starting to mean to her that week. She was crying again,
this time for her heartbreak.

Finally,
Daphne said, “Dan is dead, and I’m crying about a boyfriend I didn’t even
have.”

“That’s
bullshit,” said Miranda. “Love doesn’t have to take forever. Love can happen in
a split second. I saw his goofy ass at your condo yesterday when he brought
that portrait of you. He loves you, and you love him.”

“He
doesn’t love me any more.”

Miranda
waved her hand like she was swatting a fly. “You’ve never loved anyone before,
Daphne,” Miranda said. “That’s a big fucking deal. And now this asshole that
you love just blamed you for his sister’s bad judgment and Dan’s intoxicated
driving?”

“Carrie’s
just a kid.”

“Let
me rephrase. He blamed you for Carrie’s youthful judgment. Whatever. How is any
of this your fault?”

“They
would never have met each other if not for me.”

“What
does them meeting each other have to do with anything?” Miranda’s voice rose in
exasperation.

“If
Carrie and Dan hadn’t met, then Dan wouldn’t have asked her to Greta’s wedding.
If they hadn’t gone to the wedding together, then they wouldn’t have left to go
to that party together. If they hadn’t gone to the party, then they wouldn’t
have gotten into the car wreck together. Don’t you see? It all starts with me.”

“I
can’t decide if you have a head injury or if you really are this arrogant.”

“She
doesn’t appear to have a head injury,” Tory said, drawing the tetanus shot.

“I
like you,” Miranda said to Tory. Then Miranda leaned in close to Daphne’s face.
“It’s not all about you, Daphne.”

“Well!”
interrupted Tory, holding up a syringe. “I have your tetanus shot here.”

Miranda
helped Daphne sit up, then stood back, her arms crossed over her chest, her
full lips in a tight frown. Tory rubbed an alcohol swab on Daphne’s shoulder
before injecting her with the vaccine.

“There.
You’re all set,” Tory said. “Here’s a bag of replacement bandages. You should
change them morning and night.” She cocked her head. “You still don’t have
shoes to wear, though.”

“I
brought some.” Miranda pulled another pair of flip-flops out of her purse and
set them on the floor at Daphne’s feet.

“I
didn’t ask you to bring those,” Daphne said. “I didn’t even tell you what was
wrong with me.”

Miranda
looked exasperated. “No matter what was going on, I figured you wouldn’t want
to be wearing high heels.”

“Oh,
I see,” Tory said to Daphne. “She’s a mind-reader. She must be great to have
around in a crisis.”

“Not
a mind-reader,” said Miranda. “I’ve just been here before.”

Daphne
had a feeling Miranda had seen the inside of more than one emergency room. More
than just the one that Daphne knew about, anyway.

Tory
said, “The lidocaine I injected should last till you get home. But you
shouldn’t walk or drive. I’ve called for a wheelchair to the exit.”

To
Miranda, Daphne asked, “Can you drive a stick shift?”

Miranda
rolled her eyes.

She
handed Miranda her keys, and Miranda met her at the entrance with her car. An
orderly helped her into the passenger seat.

Once
they were on their way, Miranda asked, “Where’s Greta? I’m surprised you didn’t
call her instead of me.”

“She’s
on her honeymoon, I hope. She and Timmy were supposed to go up to this resort
in Santa Barbara where Greta went once a long time ago. I told Sandy to make
sure they didn’t hear about the accident. I didn’t want to ruin their wedding
too.”

“What
do you mean, ‘too’?”

“I’ve
ruined so much today. At least Greta and Timmy can have something good.”

“How
many times do I have to say it? Stop being so conceited. It’s not all about
you.”

Miranda
drove toward the hospital exit.

“I’m
not being conceited.”

“Shut
up and give me directions back home.”

“How
did you get to the hospital?”

“John
dropped me off.”

Daphne
had forgotten about John. She’d forgotten about how angry she was at Miranda
for showing up at Greta’s wedding with him and for deliberately trying to hurt
Daphne.

Now
that her head was clearer, Daphne wanted to know why Miranda had done such a
thing.

“Yeah,
I know,” Miranda said, preempting Daphne’s question. “We can talk about him.
But can we wait till we’re back at your place?”

“Sure,”
Daphne said. “Thanks for coming.”

Miranda
snorted. “Of course I came. Anyone would have.”

Daphne
thought back to college, to the one time Miranda had asked Daphne for help, and
Daphne had failed her. And Daphne thought that maybe she understood a little
bit better why Miranda had brought John to Greta’s wedding.

At
eleven o’clock Wednesday night, Marlon stood outside of Carrie’s hospital room.
She was asleep. Her mother, his aunt Donna, was asleep in the recliner next to
the bed.

Sandy
sat near him in the hallway, in one of the hospital’s chairs. And Marlon was
royally pissed off at him.

Two
hours before, after leaving Daphne at the hospital entrance, he’d found Carrie
in a bed, surrounded by doctors. They’d been taking her vitals, checking her
for broken bones, shining lights in her eyes. She’d become woozy again during
the ambulance ride from the wreck site.

He’d
been terrified.

“I’m
her brother,” he’d yelled over the din. “Tell me what’s happening!”

One
of the doctors stepped back to speak with him. “It looks like her only injuries
are to her shoulder, from the seatbelt, and a concussion. We’re going to take
her to radiology now. Wait here.” The doctor pointed to a chair next to Carrie’s
bed. “We’ll either bring her back here, or we’ll send someone to come get you.”

So
Marlon waited. After a few minutes, he called Sandy.

“How
is she?” Sandy asked.

“They’re
scanning her head and her shoulder. But she’s going to be OK, I think.”

“Good.
How’s Dan?”

“I
don’t fucking care.”

Silence.

“Is
the party still going?” Marlon asked.

“It’s
winding down. The newlyweds left shortly after you did.”

“You
had something to do with that?”

“Before
you two left, Daphne asked me to send them off and ensure they have a good
honeymoon.”

“Don’t
say her name.”

Silence.

“I
was so worried about Carrie,” Marlon said.

“I
know you were.”

“I
thought she was going to die.”

“You
did.”

“Can
you come down here? I don’t have a ride.”

“Sure
thing. Olivia has this place under control. I’ll be there soon.”

After
a while, one of the doctors came back to tell Marlon they were admitting
Carrie. He told Marlon where to find her room. Marlon bypassed the elevators
and ran up the stairs to Carrie’s floor. At the nurses’ counter, he demanded to
know her room number.

He
ran down the hallway until he found her.

She
was awake in her bed, talking to a man with a hospital badge and a clipboard.
Marlon took a deep breath, then entered.

“Marlon!”
she said. To the man with the clipboard she said, “This is my brother, Marlon.
Marlon, this person wants money.” She giggled.

At
the sound of her laugh, Marlon’s shoulders released their tension. He pulled a
chair up next to her bed, and his legs collapsed.

“Come
back later,” he said to the man with the clipboard. “I’m calling her mom. You
can talk to her about insurance stuff.”

Carrie
laughed again. “Yeah. You can totally talk to our mom about money. That’s super
fun.”

Carrie’s
mom hounded after every dollar, bargained over every purchase and used every
coupon, even expired ones somehow. No one, not even banks, liked to talk to
Aunt Donna about money.

As
the clipboard guy was leaving, a doctor entered. She was tall and slender, and
her tag indicated she was from neurology.

“Good
news, Carrie,” the doctor said. “Your shoulder is only sprained. It hurts, I’m
sure, and you’ll likely want a sling, but there are no breaks, tears,
dislocations or other nasty stuff. More importantly, though, your head scans
show a concussion but no other serious injury—no hematoma and no skull
fracture.”

“Great!”
Carrie said, throwing back the blankets. “I can go, then?”

“No
way,” the doctor said.

“Ugh.”
Carrie pouted.

Marlon
laughed, his relief making him feel faint.

“We
need to monitor your concussion for twenty-four hours,” the doctor said.

“If
you are going to imprison me here,” Carrie said, “can I at least go to sleep
now? You know sleep deprivation violates the Geneva Conventions.”

“Yes,
you may sleep now,” the doctor said.

“Thank
jeebus.” Carrie dropped her head back on the pillow and shut her eyes.

Marlon
thanked the doctor, who left the room with a smile.

Soon
after the doctor’s visit, Aunt Donna showed up, worry all over her face. Marlon
spoke with her in the hall.

“I’m
sure she’ll tell you the whole story later, but for now, just know that she’s
fine.”

“But
the driver’s in surgery? He’s really hurt?”

Marlon
nodded.

“That’s
so horrible!” Aunt Donna said.

“Don’t
feel bad for him. He was intoxicated. He put Carrie in danger.”

“What
is wrong with you?” Aunt Donna said.

Marlon
wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, and he didn’t want to think about it.

Marlon
helped his adoptive mom get comfortable in the recliner in Carrie’s room. Then
he found a blanket in the closet and tucked it around her shoulders. Soon, both
Aunt Donna and Carrie were sleeping soundly.

Then
his phone rang. He stepped into the hall to answer it. Sandy was downstairs at
the main entrance. He told Sandy where to find him.

When
Sandy arrived outside of Carrie’s room, his face was grim.

“Do
you know where Daphne is?” Sandy asked.

“Why
would I know that?”

“Dan
is dead.”

“Shit.”

Cold
washed over Marlon, forcing him to think clearly for the first time since he’d
received Carrie’s call from the side of the road.

He
hadn’t gotten the full story from Carrie yet, but although Dan had taken her to
that awful party, he hadn’t let her leave alone after Jamison attacked her. In
going after her, he’d been trying to do the right thing.

Now
he was dead.

“Where’d
you last see her?” Sandy asked.

“At
the emergency entrance. That’s where we went our separate ways.”

Sandy
paused, considering. “That’s probably a true statement.”

Marlon,
already stretched thin, snapped at Sandy’s mocking tone. “What is that supposed
to mean?”

“I
get that you’re worried about Carrie, and you should be. But Daphne was alone.
She’d sent her best friend off on her honeymoon to protect her from this mess.”
Sandy pinned Marlon with his cinematic blue eyes. “Daphne was all alone. Do you
understand what I’m saying?”

Marlon
nodded. He did understand. He knew what it was like to be alone and to find out
someone important to you was dead.

But
he didn’t want a lecture from Sandy. He and Daphne were nothing alike. “This
whole scene is her fault.”

Sandy
laughed. He fucking laughed at that. “How do you figure?”

“Dan
and Carrie wouldn’t have been together tonight if it weren’t for her. Dan would
be alive if Daphne hadn’t driven Dan to do something stupid.”

Suddenly,
Sandy’s voice got cold and deadly serious. Marlon had apparently touched a
nerve. “Women don’t make men do stupid things.” Sandy’s voice was as angry as
Marlon had ever heard it. “Men do stupid things, period.”

“Leave
me alone, old man. You’re not my father.”

“That
is also a true statement.” Sandy sat down in a chair next to Carrie’s room and
crossed his feet in front of him. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home.”

And
now here they were, having their first real fight in the twelve years they’d
known each other. Except Sandy didn’t look angry at all. He wore that same
placid expression on his face that he almost always wore, as though he knew
something everyone else didn’t. Usually, Marlon thought Sandy’s poker face was
funny. Right now, when it was directed at him, he didn’t like it one bit.
Marlon knew what Sandy was hiding behind that poker face.

Judgment.

~~~~

Miranda
neatly pulled into Daphne’s parking space and closed the garage door behind
them. “Stay there,” she said to Daphne. “I’ll come around and help you.”

Together,
they shuffled up the steps and into the house. The lidocaine was beginning to
wear off, and Daphne’s feet ached.

“Lifeboat,”
Daphne managed to say, and Miranda helped her to the orange couch. Daphne
collapsed.

“You
look terrible.” Miranda took in Daphne’s pitiful form. “Let’s get wasted.”

Daphne
tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I remember a time when you didn’t drink at all.”

“Me
too,” Miranda said. “What was I thinking?”

Given
Miranda’s recent appearance in Los Angeles, and the cause for it, Daphne had a
feeling she knew what Miranda had been thinking.

Miranda
disappeared into Daphne’s kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. She returned
with a bottle of vodka, a bottle of grapefruit juice, a lime, a knife, two
glasses and a joint.

“That’s
not TSA-approved,” Daphne said, pointing at the weed.

“John
got it for me.” After a moment, Miranda rolled her eyes. “Yes, we can talk
about John.”

Miranda
made their drinks with a surprising amount of skill for someone who, until
recently, had been a teetotaler.

“Alcoholic
mom.” Miranda nodded at the miniature bar she’d set up on the coffee table.
“Just like riding a bike.” She handed a glass to Daphne.

“So.”
Daphne took a sip. “John?”

“We
met at Didier’s, like I said earlier tonight. He came up to me after you left
and asked if you were Akane. I told him no.”

“And
then you made some deductions.”

“And
I made some deductions. Want to hear them?”

“No.
But also yes.”

“You
met John out on Saturday night. Then you had a quickie at his place. You lied
about your name and number.” She paused. “Also, I did some math. You must have
been cheating on Dan.”

“Nice
deductions. I broke up with Dan the next day.”

Miranda
lit the joint. She took a deep drag and held it, sitting back on the lifeboat.
She exhaled. “You might have broken up with Dan on Sunday,” she said. “But you
were out of that relationship a long time before.”

“How
can you know that?”

“Because
of Marlon.”

“What
about Marlon?”

“Because
you’re in love with Marlon, you dodo.” Miranda heaved a dramatic sigh. “How did
you get through college without higher order processing ability?”

“Don’t
be a snob.”

Miranda
laughed. “Too late.”

“Back
to the topic of why you brought a person to Greta’s wedding whom you knew would
cause trouble.”

“I
feel bad about that. I’m sorry.”

“Why’d
you do it?” Daphne pressed.

“At
first I just hung out with John because I could. He seemed interesting, and,
well, interested in me. He asked me out, and I said yes. We spent a lot of time
together the past two days.”

“The
wedding?”

“Right,
well. Looking back now, perhaps I was still a little angry with you about what
happened in college. I just didn’t know I felt that way.”

“I
figured it was something like that,” Daphne said.

“You
did?”

“I’m
not a complete dodo. I’ve never forgotten what happened in college.”

“Yeah,
OK,” Miranda said. “Me neither.”

“But
you still came here when your mom died.”

“Farthest
place I could go without a passport. Mine’s out of date.”

“Is
that the only reason?”

“I
don’t know.” Miranda looked sad for the first time since she’d arrived in Los
Angeles.

“Why
is it that you are so good at reading other people and terrible at reading
yourself?”

Miranda
laughed and handed Daphne the joint. “Can you still feel your feet?”

“They
really hurt.” Daphne took a drag.

“How
did you hurt them so badly?”

“I
took off my shoes to get to the accident faster. I didn’t even notice I was
cutting up my feet when I was walking around the wreckage.”

“That’s
what it’s like in a crisis,” Miranda said. “You don’t feel anything. Your focal
point narrows to a pinprick.”

“That’s
exactly what it felt like.”

“I
know.”

Daphne
had a feeling Miranda did know. She knew a lot more than she was letting on.

“What
happened with John tonight? After the unveiling of Daphne?” Daphne asked.

“It’s
funny. He wasn’t mad at me at all.”

Daphne
smiled.

“After
we spoke with you and Marlon, we stayed at the party for a while. Great party,
by the way. And then we left around seven I guess. We got coffee at your coffee
place. What’s it called?”