COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER NEW YORK CITY MARCH 24, 2011, 11:15 P.M.
George knew something about loss. His own father, Morgan Wilson, died when George was three, and no matter how hard he tried, George couldn’t really remember anything specific about him other than a vague sense of contentment. He did have a few vague memories, but they’d been pieced together from photographs shown to him by his mother, Jean. There was one silent home movie of a time Jean and Morgan took George to see his grandparents, Sally and Preston, in Arizona. George had watched the film over and over and his father always looked impossibly young and endearing. In the short film Morgan is holding George on his lap and alternately kisses him on the cheek and hugs him. Morgan’s absence had caused George a degree of melancholy similar to the melancholy he was feeling at that moment.
George got up from his bed where he’d flopped after Pia’s rebuff. He needed to get out of his room if only for a short interval. There was always the vending machine room on the first floor. He needed to see people, normal people, and there were usually students getting sodas or bags of chips.
As George headed toward the elevators, he tried to concentrate on how much he was loved by his family. He’d always had that to fall back on whenever he felt lonely. He knew that Pia did not have an equivalent situation, which made her behavior even more confusing. Why did she so consistently reject the love that he wanted to share with her and finally had the courage to voice? It just didn’t make sense.
George slapped the down button. Almost as if the car had been sitting there waiting for him, the elevator doors opened. Inside was Will McKinley, perhaps the only person in the world who could have made George feel even lonelier.
“George!” Will said. “What a coincidence. You heading down for a snack? Hop in!” Will took George’s arm and pulled him in. The ground-floor button had already been pressed. George lacked the strength to resist.
“What’s the matter, George? You look terrible.”
“I’m just tired. It’s been that kind of day.”
“How’s Pia? Have you seen her? She must have taken what happened to Rothman real hard.”
“She did.”
“Lesley and I tried to call her but she’s not picking up.”
“She’s not great at staying in touch with people,” George said.
The elevator reached the ground floor and Will guided George off.
“Listen, George, if there’s anything I can do to help Pia, just let me know. Really. We want her to get through this in one piece, she’s a great girl.”
George simply nodded. Will walked away toward the vending room. When he realized George wasn’t accompanying him, he turned and waved to George to follow.
“Come on! My treat.”
George sighed, wearily turned, and pressed the button once more to call the elevator. He wanted company but not Will’s company.