“You’re an ass,” Blue said to Maya. “She’s right. They don’t wash those things.” Then to Hannah she added, “It’s only one night. You can stay with me if you want. I’m more fun anyway.”
“Ha! In your dreams!” Maya said, rolling over onto her back. “She’s staying with me in the nondelusional room.”
Blue laughed seemingly despite herself. “Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you clowns in the morning.” She turned to Hannah. “Remember, I’m right next door if it’s too crowded in there with Maya’s ego.”
Maya threw a pillow at Blue.
Blue ducked, shouting “Nice try, loser!” as she slipped off to her room.
The second she was gone, Hannah realized there was no chance of them changing their minds about staying here. She looked at the bed next to Maya’s but couldn’t bring herself to move toward it. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said. Just standing there was making her itch.
Maya sat up. “What on earth do you think is going to happen?”
“I don’t know... I just...” But there was no way to explain a phobia to anyone who didn’t have one. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t rational, that the danger was imagined or overblown. What mattered was that it felt real and that the fear was a torture far worse than whatever had triggered it. She closed her eyes, picturing her bed at home, everything so clean and neat and safe. All she wanted was to be normal again. To not be so exhausted and exhausting. She started to cry.
“Stop!” Maya said, jumping up from the bed. The energy of her annoyance crowded the room, clashing with Hannah’s distress, further abandoning her to it. “You are not going to do this. You are not allowed to break down on me. We’re on vacation!”
“I’m trying!” Hannah said. She wept harder. “Do you think I want to be like this? Do you think this is a choice?”
Maya held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Hey, I’m sorry. Seriously, please don’t cry. We’ll figure something out. I’m going to help you.” She scanned the room, frowning. Then her face lit up. “I know!”
“What?” Hannah said.
“Close your eyes.”
“Why? Are you going to do something gross?”
“No. Just do it.”
Hannah sighed.
“Both eyes, please. Thank you. Okay, take a few deep breaths.”
Hannah tried, but her body resisted, didn’t want to take in the musty, moldy air, didn’t want to take in any life at all. The sound of her own pathetic efforts made her only want to cry more.
“Now I want you to imagine you’re walking into a... Where do you wish you could be?”
Hannah thought. What is the opposite of this motel room?
“Somewhere clean,” she said over the mass in her throat. “Sterile.” She heard the swish of the thick curtains being closed, could see the light behind her lids go black.
“Okay, great! So we’re walking into a hospital.”
Hannah thought of all those months with Henry in the ICU and squeezed her eyes against the image. She must have shaken her head because Maya quickly added, “It’s not that kind of hospital though.” And then, “I’m thinking it’s more like an asylum.”
Hannah opened one eye.
“Okay, sorry, kidding. Bad joke. It’s more like a med spa. Not one patient there yet. You’re the first person to ever enter it. Okay?”
Hannah nodded.
“Good. Now take a step onto the clean, bleached floor. You can do this.”
Hannah kept her eyes squeezed shut. “Oh God, oh God.” She tried to envision pristine flooring, but in her mind the carpet came alive, all those germs from all those people just waiting for their moment to get inside and pollute her. “This isn’t going to work.”
“It won’t if you believe that.” She grabbed Hannah’s hand. “Now take a step forward. Ooh, watch out for all the cleaning supplies. Don’t want to trip on that disinfectant. Do you smell all that bleach?”
Hannah giggled in spite of herself. She focused her attention on Maya’s voice and the feeling of Maya’s hot, dry hand in hers, allowing her to skid around the edges of the panic just a bit, just enough to take a small step, like dipping toes into a pool.
“Awesome. Now I’m going to lead you over to your bed.”
Hannah stopped. “Can you check it first?”
“Check it for what?”
“Everything.”
Maya sighed. “Stay there. Keep your eyes closed.”
Hannah saw pink light behind her lids as Maya flicked on the bedside lamp. “Be thorough!” she called. She could practically feel Maya’s eyes roll, and yet it was a comfort—her predictability.
After a minute Maya announced, “Perfectly clean,” and switched off the light again. “Not a speck or a stain.”
Hannah felt Maya’s hand grab her fingers, drag her over to the bed.
“Now, I’m going to pull down the sterilized blanket and you’re going to get under the nice, brand-new, hot-washed sheets.”
Hannah sat on the bed and Maya took off her shoes as if she were a small child. Maya stroked her arm a few times.
“Now lie back.”
Hannah slowly lowered her back down onto the bed.
“Spin a little.”
Hannah turned and Maya took her legs and slid them under the covers. She realized she was trembling as Maya pulled the sheets up to her chin, tucked in the edges around her like a parent would do, left the dirty duvet at her feet.
Hannah opened her eyes. “You’d make a good mom,” she said.
Maya smiled. “Thanks.”
“We’re all seeing in real time why I wouldn’t.”
They both laughed, and new tears pushed at the back of Hannah’s eyes, born of gratitude.
“Xanax, please?” she whispered. “It’s in the side pocket of my bag.”
Hannah heard Maya’s feet padding away, heard her curse as she stubbed her toe, heard the bathroom light snap on, Maya fumbling with the bag, the rattle of the bottle...padding back.
“Open,” Maya said.
Hannah opened her mouth and the tiny, weightless tablet dropped onto her tongue. She swallowed it dry, anticipating the gentle warmth that would soon spread across her brain, making her limbs heavy, as if she could feel gravity pressing down on her, holding her in place. All she needed to do was survive the night. Six hours. She could do it.