Surfacing,

Part Four

By Lauren

Floaty. That was the only word that Drew could think of to describe the feeling she’d been experiencing as she faded in and out of consciousness. Her body felt like it was hovering over the ground, her mind fuzzy and free. The few times she had even begun to be coherent, her mind pulled back from reality, back into the safety of darkness, away from the searing, hot pain.

Colors and shapes were recognizable as she emerged from the darkness of her mind the first time: she could see the mangled hood of the car almost clearly, and the blurred headlights of other vehicles through what she thought might be freshly falling rain. Bright blue and red lights flashed from atop a car, but as she tried to open her eyes wider to see what exactly was going on, a sharp, sharp pain attacked her entire body, and her mind recoiled into the comfortable blackness.

The second time she’d drifted back towards consciousness, she had sworn that someone was calling her name, and her brain had told her that it might be Max or Selena. “I’m here!” she tried to cry out, but the brick wall that she had unknowingly constructed between her mind and her senses prevented her. 

Then the dreams and flashbacks had begun to haunt her in her oblivion. Demons and devils from her past and present taunted her, tortured her with her own words. “No!” she had screamed in agony as one of them chased after her. Only when she turned around did she see that it was Jesse. Jesse, who was gone from her and wouldn’t be coming back. “You, Drew!” he yelled in her face, catching her and gripping her upper arms, shaking her. “It was your fault! You did this to me!” he screamed.

“No!” she had cried out again. She felt something cool against her cheek and Jesse drifted away into the recesses of her memory.

“Drew?” a comforting voice had said, coaxing. “Drew, can you hear me?”

Her eyelids felt as heavy as the booths at Company that she, Max, and Buzz had rearranged only a few weeks before. She grimaced, pulling, pulling on them until they finally cracked open and a faint ray of light penetrated her darkness. A woman in peach-colored hospital scrubs stood in front of her. It wasn’t Max. Or Selena. Or even Ray. Pain stabbed at her, though she couldn’t tell where it was centered, and she retreated once again.

As she floated, she began to go backwards. Not literally backwards, she decided, though she felt like she was being pulled.  I think I’m going backwards in time, in my memory.  Suddenly she felt herself drop sharply, squeezing her eyes shut more tightly. It’s like the feeling that happens right before you fall asleep, she decided. As if falling asleep really does involve falling.

Tentatively she opened her eyes to her memory, and found herself sitting alone in a booth at Company, her hands circling a hot cup of black coffee. She recognized the memory as having happened about two years before. "God, Michelle, where are you?" she mumbled, looking at the ceiling, trying to avoid staring at the door. She knew that Michelle was going to go see Danny in the hospital as soon as she'd spoken to Drew. She was also aware that Michelle had absolutely no desire to be anywhere except with her husband. Especially not to talk to Drew about something she had no idea was even going on. 

"Hello? Earth to Drew," Michelle said, snapping her fingers in front of Drew's face. When Drew's eyes had focused, Michelle had sat back in her seat across from Drew. "What in the world were you daydreaming about?"

Drew smirked at Michelle's amused face. "Jesse. It was kind of kinky, you probably don't want to know," Drew lied, and was pleased when Michelle shuddered, obviously disgusted.

To Drew’s surprise and disgust, Michelle hadn’t come alone. For some reason, she had brought Dahlia Crede, who had just breezed back into Springfield, with her. Dahlia was shooting Drew incredibly dirty looks, and Michelle was drumming the tabletop with her fingertips nervously, her eyes darting from Drew’s face to Dahlia’s and back again.

“So, Drew,” Dahlia said suddenly and sharply, “are you going to tell us why you asked us here or are you going to make us guess?”

Drew sneered at Dahlia. That girl had always thought that she was too good to grace Drew with her presence. “Actually, Dahlia, I asked to see Michelle. I have no idea why you lowered yourself from your pedestal to accompany her,” Drew shot back.

Dahlia narrowed her eyes, pressing her lips into a tight line. She opened her mouth to say something, but Michelle cut her off.

“Drew, Dahlia was driving me to see Danny,” Michelle explained, her eyes weary. “But she’s not the only one who’s curious as to why you asked me here.”

Drew’s face softened a little bit. “I’m really sorry to have pulled you away from Cedars for a few minutes,” she began sincerely. Dahlia snorted and Drew’s face tightened again.

“Does she really have to be here?” Drew asked, annoyed.

Michelle sighed exasperatedly. “Dahl, you could always go for a walk,” she suggested.

Dahlia stood, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Michelle, I’m kind of reluctant to leave you here with…her. I mean, in your condition, you wouldn’t want to get too excited or anything.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “God, you sound just like Danny. For Christ’s sake, I’m pregnant, not porcelain.”

“Really, Dahlia, I’m not going to break her. I’m not that vile,” Drew said smugly.

Michelle shook her head and rested her elbows on the table. “You guys, this isn’t getting me to see my husband any quicker.”

Dahlia sighed and walked toward the door. “I’ll meet you in the car,” she called over her shoulder to Michelle. 

“So nice to have spoken to you,” Drew chirped sarcastically as Dahlia stomped off toward the door. Dahlia turned and glared at her, then walked out and slammed the door so hard that Drew thought it was going to come off its hinges.

Michelle was tapping the table absentmindedly again, her other hand lightly rubbing her swollen belly, when Drew looked back to the table. "So what is so urgent that it beat my injured husband in the priority game?"

Drew took a long sip of coffee, trying to decide exactly how to explain what she was thinking about. "Look, Michelle, I know we haven't always been the best of friends and all--"

It was Michelle's turn to smirk. "Got that right," she said.

"--but I feel like you're the only one I can talk to about this," Drew continued, choosing to ignore Michelle's off-hand comment.

Michelle's forehead wrinkled. "What's going on, Drew?" she asked, her tone taking on an edge of concern. 

"It's not like I'm pregnant or dying or anything," Drew assured her. "It's just...something that I really can't take to anyone else." 

"Are you going to make me guess?" Michelle asked. "Because, you know, I do have somewhere else to be if all you're going to do is beat around the bush."

"I want to find my father," Drew blurted out. "Okay? That's what all this is about. Selena's my mother, we've established that. But now I want to know who my father is."

"No, thanks," Michelle said, waving off the waiter who came to the table.

"But Drew, I thought Selena told you that your dad was one of her johns. I mean, what are the odds of finding the exact one? And do you really want to know?" 

Drew swallowed. She'd expected Miss Goody-Two-Shoes to come up with some practical reason why she shouldn't look for her father. She was prepared. "The odds are pretty good, actually...Selena kept a record of them...all of them. So all I'd have to do is look through it for dates and stuff. Once she told me she'd narrowed it down to three guys...all I'd have to do is ask her for names and start looking around…"

Michelle raised and lowered her eyebrows. "You do realize that your father's probably already married, already has another family...you know that, chances are, he wouldn't want to know that you existed."

"You're not going to talk me out of this, Michelle," Drew countered. "I know what I'm getting myself into. I just want to know where I came from, who I really am. You know, am I...am I Irish...or am I the great-granddaughter of an outlaw...or French royalty, or whatever."

Michelle snorted. "I'm betting on the outlaw."

"Selena would discourage me, and I probably would listen," she began, ticking off the reasons on her fingers, "and Jesse...I don't know, I just felt like...like this wasn't something he'd be whole-heartedly for. Or against."

"I know what you mean," Michelle replied with a laugh.

Drew wrinkled her nose. "No way am I going to dish about Jesse with you," she said, disgust plain on her face. "That's too frightening and way too...chummy. I am not your chum."

"No, no, I totally understand. I've always hated you, too. I mean, you did sleep with my husband and all. We aren't friends."

"No, we're...colleagues...acquaintances...people who were forced to live in the same apartment for a while, who dated the same guy, and who are now helping each other for the simple fact that there's not another person to turn to on the face of the earth."

Michelle laughed. "Exactly. Okay, okay, I'll help you out. But right now, I really, really want to get to the hospital and be with Danny. So call me when you get those names, okay?"

"Will do," Drew promised. Michelle stood up, picked up her purse, and walked out the door.

"Blecch," Drew said, shivering and sticking out her tongue. "God, she's disgustingly sweet. I'll bet she gives Danny diabetes in a few years."

Standing, Drew approached the cash register to pay for her coffee. Selena stood behind the counter, tapping rolls of quarters on the cash drawer and breaking them open. "Oh, hi, Drew," Selena said with a bright smile. "How much do you owe me?"

Drew handed her the bill that the waiter had laid on her table, his face anticipating a tip. Drew didn't tip him. Drew never tipped anyone. It was their job, she reasoned, and I'm not going to tip, say, my hairdresser. "Just a cup of coffee," she replied coolly.

Selena lifted an eyebrow. "You sound calm today. Everything okay?"

"Of course. Can't a girl just be completely happy with her life?" Drew asked, brushing a stray strand of long brown hair off her shoulder.

"After talking with Little Miss Sunshine herself? Not likely," Selena said.

"I know you, Drew. Give it up. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on, Selena!" Drew exclaimed. "Damn, what's up with everyone today? You'd think they'd never seen a girl who has everything going for her before!"

Selena made change for Drew and rested her chin in her hands. "Problems with Jesse, right?"

Drew smiled. "For God's sake!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands and walking out of Company, shaking her head. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Selena's place wasn't too far away, so Drew decided to walk. When she reached Selena's front door, she fished around in her purse and pulled out the key that Selena had given her back when they were still friends and Michelle still lived in the apartment over Millennium. Sliding the key in the lock, she twisted it and pushed the door open, pulling the key out with a metallic scrape.

"Okay, Selena, now where did you put that book?" Drew asked aloud, shutting the door. She meandered from one table to another, settling in the desk chair and opening the top drawer. "God, Selena, you're a pig!" she exclaimed, rummaging through the desk drawer and coming up empty handed. 

Leaning over, she opened one of the deeper drawers to the side of the chair and rifled through various papers, accounts for Company, and newspaper clippings. "For the love of God, where is it?" she asked, throwing up her hands.

"Selena, did you say something?" a man's voice asked from the direction of the bathroom.

"Oh, God!" Drew whispered, sliding under the desk and pulling the chair back, cursing herself for not closing the drawer. Buzz stepped out of the bathroom in his robe, briskly rubbing his hair with a towel.

"Selena?" he called again, a puzzled look on his face. "I must be going crazy. Pretty soon I'll be visiting Holly in the loony bin," he mumbled, walking over towards the desk.

Drew was sure she'd been found. As Buzz approached the desk, she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip. "Ought to remember to shut the damned desk drawer," he muttered. "I really am going insane."

It was only after Buzz had retreated to the bathroom that Drew felt the full impact of the situation. "Buzz..." she whispered, crawling out from under the desk. "At Selena's? Taking a shower?" It took every ounce of strength she had not to dissolve into a fit of laughter. She and Jesse had talked many times about how Buzz was denying his feelings for Selena because of Jenna. "Well," she mumbled, "looks like they're not denying anything anymore!"

The little black book turned up in the bottom of the next drawer that Drew searched through. She stuffed it in her purse and slipped out of the house as quickly and as quietly as she could.

"Well, Drew," she murmured to herself. "Here we go..." And then the memory ended, like a videotaped movie, and Drew’s mind was plunged back into darkness once more.

Part 5

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