Chasing Chaos: A Novel (22 page)

“Uptown.”

“Yeah,
that’s it. Then I walked back here to go to bed.”

“Why’d
you walk?”

“I
didn’t want him to know where you live. I might be spiteful, but I’m not an
idiot.”

“I
don’t think you’re spiteful.”

“Let’s
review. I dragged your one-night-stand to a party where you’d be surrounded by
your new guy and your old guy. I did it because I was mad.” Miranda wore an
expression of mock concern. “Do you need to borrow a dictionary?”

“I
think you were hurt, not spiteful.”

“I
think I need my weed back,” Miranda said.

Daphne
handed it to her.

“How’d
you get to the hospital?” Daphne asked.

“You
called me almost as soon as I got back here. I grabbed a change of shoes for
both of us, and then ran back out, dialing John. He was still in the
neighborhood. He picked me up at the corner of San Vicente and brought me.”

“Did
he ask what was going on?”

“Yes.
But I didn’t have anything to tell him except that you needed me.”

“What’d
he say then?”

“Actually,
he said the strangest thing. He said he’ll be seeing me again soon. He said he
had a feeling.” Miranda rolled her eyes. “Who talks like that? Creeps and
weirdos.”

“And
boys in love.”

“Barf.”

Daphne
started crying again, quietly this time.

“Your
feet, or something else?” Miranda asked.

“Something
else.”

“Yeah.”
Miranda picked up Daphne’s hand. “I know.”

Eventually,
Marlon had let Sandy drive them home. Eventually, by the time they’d made it to
Sandy’s, Marlon had apologized for saying hurtful things.

After
they’d climbed out of Sandy’s car, Sandy had pulled Marlon into a hug. “I’m not
your father,” Sandy had said to him. “But you’re the only kid I’ve got.”

After
they’d parted ways to go to bed, Marlon might have cried a little bit as he
walked up the steps to his home.

They’d
agreed to meet for a quick breakfast the next morning and then head back to the
hospital to check on Carrie.

~~~~

Around
eight o’clock Thursday morning, Marlon let himself into Sandy’s house and
headed toward the kitchen. Sandy was sitting at the table drinking a cup of
coffee. He had another cup for Marlon.

“You
sleep all right?” Sandy asked him.

“Not
really.”

“That’s
to be expected, I guess.”

“I
guess.”

They
ate the bagels Sandy had picked up from the market, then headed to the
hospital. Sandy valeted at the main entrance, and they walked inside together.
This morning, with the crisis past, Marlon was able to notice the stares Sandy
garnered from passers-by. Like usual, Marlon found them funny. Los Angeles was
populated with stars. Ordinary people who lived in LA, people like Marlon,
became inured to their presence. But there were very few megastars, and it
seemed impossible for anyone to become inured to those.

Sandy
was a megastar.

They
rode the elevator up to Carrie’s floor and strolled down the hallway to her
room. Aunt Donna was helping the hospital caterer clear Carrie’s breakfast tray
from the room. Donna came out into the hall when she saw Marlon and gave him a
big hug.

She
looked up at him, her face so nearly the same as his own mother’s. “Marlon, did
you sleep at all?”

“Sure
I did, Aunt Donna. How about you?”

“Well
enough,” she said. “Carrie’s doing great. They’re going to let her go today.”

“That’s
good news. I’m sure she’s happy to be sprung from her prison.”

Marlon
could see Carrie in the room clicking the remote control for the television,
frowning at the options on the screen.

“Trying
to keep that girl in one room for more than a few hours at a time has been a
struggle since she could walk.” Aunt Donna laughed, and behind her laugh,
Marlon heard a deep sense of relief. “Oh! Sandy,” Donna said. “I didn’t see you
over there.”

Indeed,
Sandy had been hanging back, letting Marlon speak with his aunt in private.

“Hi,
Donna.” Sandy kissed her cheek, and Donna blushed a deep red. “It’s nice to see
you again.”

Even
his no-nonsense aunt wasn’t immune to Sandy.

“Carrie
said she wanted to speak with you,” Donna said to Marlon. “I’ll go downstairs
to get some breakfast and leave you two alone.”

Sandy
sat in the hallway chair he’d occupied the night before. Marlon ducked into
Carrie’s room and pulled a seat up next to her bed.

“Hey
bro,” she said. “This place doesn’t have cable.”

“I
hear you’re getting out of here today, so you won’t have to suffer long.”

She
looked at him with sad eyes. “Dan died.”

“I
know.”

“He
was kind of a jackass, and he was too drunk to drive, but he came to help me.”
Tears filled her brown eyes.

Marlon
took her hand. “He shouldn’t have taken you to that party in the first place.”

Last
night, after she’d been admitted, Carrie had given him some details about
Jamison’s party. When Marlon thought about that Jamison guy putting his hands
on his sister, he could barely control his need for violence.

“I
asked Dan to take me, Marlon. He was going to leave Sandy’s by himself.”

“He
still shouldn’t have taken you.”

“Marlon,
are you listening to me? I spoke the words. I asked him to take me.” Carrie
sounded annoyed.

“Some
part of him must have known what he was doing. He knew he was using you to get
back at Daphne.”

“Wait.”
Carrie interrupted him. “Where is Daphne? I haven’t seen her at all. Is she
OK?”

“I
don’t know.” Marlon heard the coldness in his voice.

“You
don’t know where she is? Or you don’t know if she’s OK?” Carrie’s eyes
narrowed. “Oh shit, Marlon. You’re mad at Daphne about me?” Carrie started
laughing. “You’re a dummy.”

“She’s
the reason you’re here,” he said.

“Oh
jeez.” Carrie rolled her eyes.

“She’s
the reason you almost died,” Marlon insisted.

“No,
Marlon,” Carrie said. “None of this has anything to do with Daphne. How can you
be so dumb? And you are obviously ruining all of my hard matchmaking work.”

“You
can forget about that,” he snapped.

“Why
can’t you let this be my mistake?” She gestured at herself lying in the
hospital bed. “I screwed up! I begged Dan—a guy I barely knew—to take me to a
party at a place I didn’t know, and, to top it off, I didn’t tell anyone I was
leaving! It was all so stupid.”

Marlon
just shook his head.

“And
Jamison, he can take some of the blame.” Carrie looked sad, even spooked for a
moment. “And Dan shouldn’t have driven drunk.”

“He
was high too.”

“But
if you don’t let this be my mistake, I can’t learn from it.” Marlon tried to
speak, but Carrie held up her hand. “If it is my mistake, big brother, I won’t
make the same mistake again.”

Her
last words clicked into place for Marlon. He felt his resolve begin to weaken.

“You
won’t make this mistake again.” He repeated her words back to her.

She
nodded. “And if it’s my mistake? Then it can’t be Daphne’s.”

He
frowned, unwilling to let go of his anger toward Daphne. Even though, he now
realized, he really wanted to.

“Are
you ruining everything with her because I was an idiot?” Carrie asked.

“Dan
was intoxicated. He shouldn’t have been driving.”

“Sure,
OK. Both Dan and I were idiots,” she said. “But perhaps Dan has been punished
enough,” she said, her voice quiet.

Marlon
leaned back in his chair, covering his face with his hands.

“You
don’t have much to say, big brother.”

“I
do not.”

“I
think it is possible that you have fucked up.”

“It’s
possible.”

“Her
ex just died. She’s emotionally wrecked. She probably needs someone, don’t you
think? And what did you do, you stupid stubborn male person?”

“I sent
her off alone.”

“You
are ridiculous.” She wrinkled her nose, as though he smelled bad. “Go away. I
don’t want to talk to you until you tell her you’re sorry.”

Marlon
stood, smiling down at Carrie. “I’m glad to see your smart-ass skills haven’t
been harmed in any way.”

She
didn’t answer him, just waved him away while pressing buttons on the remote
control.

Marlon
left the room, closing the door behind him. Sandy stood, raising his eyebrows.

“Good
news, then?” Sandy asked.

“She
seems completely fine,” Marlon said. “Also she dressed me down a bit.”

“I
heard some of it.”

“Naturally.”
Marlon was accustomed to Sandy’s shameless eavesdropping.

They
headed toward the elevators.

“Any
thoughts about what I should do?” Marlon asked.

“What
do you think you should do?”

“I
should probably start by apologizing to her.”

“Probably.”

“Do
you think it’s possible for her to forgive me?”

“It’s
likely she’s not even mad at you, you fuckwit,” Sandy said, exasperated. “The
question is whether it’s possible for her to forgive herself. Especially after
what you said to her.”

Marlon
stopped short and pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed Daphne’s number.
The call went to voicemail. He hung up and sent a text message. “Please call
me.” He called again, and again got her voicemail. This time, he left a
message. “Daphne. It’s Marlon. OK. Listen, I’m sorry. I was completely wrong. I
need to talk to you. Please call me.”

After
hanging up, he asked Sandy, “Is she ignoring me?”

“Maybe,”
Sandy said. “Maybe she’s just busy.”

~~~~

Daphne
pulled into the hospital parking lot with Miranda in the passenger seat. They
were both hung over, but Miranda more so. Daphne had told her she didn’t have
to come this morning, but Miranda had just said some colorful words about the
bullshit of Daphne’s self-sacrifice and trudged out the door by her side.

Daphne
had put Dan’s parents’ contact information in her bag. His parents lived in
Tempe, Arizona. Daphne’s soul ached thinking about the news they were about to
receive. Dan was their only child.

As
she and Miranda passed through the glass doors of the hospital’s main entrance,
her phone rang. She pulled it out of her bag and frowned.

“It’s
Marlon,” she said to Miranda.

“Cocksucker,”
Miranda said.

“I
wonder what he’s going to yell at me about now.” Daphne silenced the phone.

They
headed to the elevators. Daphne’s phone beeped that she’d received a text
message.

“It’s
a text from Marlon. He’s asking me to call him.”

“Did
he say please?”

“Actually,
yes,” Daphne said. “I hope Carrie is OK.”

“You’re
really worried about her.”

“I
am.”

“And
you haven’t seen her since the wreck?” Miranda asked.

“No.
Marlon wouldn’t let me. Tory told me she was all right—but that was last night.
Anything could have happened since.”

Daphne’s
phone rang again. Marlon. “I don’t think I can answer this.” Daphne started to
cry. “You do it.”

“If
it’s important, he’ll leave a voicemail,” Miranda said. “If he doesn’t, we’ll
text him back.”

They
waited. Finally, the voicemail signal beeped. They listened to the message
together.

“An
apology,” Miranda said. “Interesting.”

“I
don’t deserve an apology.”

“Ugh.”
Miranda grabbed Daphne’s hand and dragged her onto the elevator. “Let’s deal
with one critical event at a time.”

Up
on the surgical floor, Daphne told the tech at the desk, a woman this time, why
she was there. The tech seemed to know exactly what to do with Daphne’s
information and with Daphne.

“Could
you please wait over there?” the tech said, pointing to the same waiting area
where Daphne had waited for Dan to die the night before.

Daphne
sat in a chair next to Miranda. She glanced at her bandaged feet.

“The
ibuprofen isn’t doing much,” Daphne said.

“You
were supposed to stay off your feet. Yet here you are tromping all over town.”

“I
was supposed to bring in this information.”

“I bet
you could have called it in.”

“That
didn’t feel right.”

Miranda
picked up her hand. “I know.”

A
woman came out through the large double doors. She, like Daphne, was Japanese,
and her hair was cut in a perfect pixie. She wore a white doctor’s coat and carried
a clipboard. She interviewed Daphne, asking about Dan and his family, and took
the notes that Daphne had brought. She told Daphne that the surgeon on Dan’s
case would be calling Dan’s parents that morning to make a formal notification
of death.

“Can
I call them after that?” Daphne asked.

“Sure.
Just wait until after we call them. Noon should be safe. It would be nice for
them to hear a familiar voice.”

The
woman pointed at Daphne’s feet. “Are you OK?”

“I’m
fine,” Daphne said.

Miranda
groaned.

“What?
I’m fine,” Daphne said again.

“You
would be finer if you had better pain medicine,” Miranda said.

“You
were seen last night?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.
By Tory Murphy in the emergency room. I hurt my feet at the crash.”

“Let
me page her. She can probably call in something to the hospital pharmacy for
you. Do you have time to wait?”

Daphne
nodded.

“Is
your mobile number in our system?”

Daphne
nodded again.

“OK.
You’ll get an update from the pharmacy in the next thirty minutes or so.”

“Thank
you.” Daphne felt tears starting to come.