A Life Worth Living

by Lorrie Kruse

  He might not be in line to win the lottery, but he felt lucky enough when he’d been transferred into bed and had Crystal nestled next to him. She hadn’t even asked if anything new and exciting had happened. He leaned his head against hers and blinked, trying his best to stay awake. Couldn’t even wiggle his leg to try to stay awake like he used to do in the old days. He looked at his father. Dear ol’ Dad had fallen asleep five minutes into You’ve Got Mail.

  Unlike his dad, Crystal and his mother were glued to the screen. How they could stand watching a movie they’d seen ten times already was beyond him. At least Crystal was snuggled up to him. Yep, he thought as he let his eyes close. If you had to watch a chick flick, may as well have a chick cuddled up next to you.

  He woke up when Crystal pushed herself off the bed. Within seconds, she was standing by the window. “What?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

  His father yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “Now that we men have had a nap, it’s time to go home.”

  “You just got here.”

  “Shouldn’t have slept through our visit,” Crystal said, her smile teasing.

  “Shouldn’t have put on a movie we’ve already watched a thousand times.”

  “It’s only been twice.”

  His dad stepped up to the bed and handed Matt a folded envelope.

  Matt frowned at the paycheck-style envelope he’d seen hundreds of times over the years. “What’s this?”

  “Your pay.”

  “No,” Matt said, pushing the envelope back at his father. “You already paid me through my last day of work.”

  “Consider it a consulting fee.”

  “For what? Showing you we had enough tile? I don’t think so.” Matt tore the envelope in half. “I’m not taking money I didn’t earn.”

  His father nodded at Matt’s mother. “You make out a new check tomorrow and deposit it in his account.”

  Matt stared hard at his father. Deposit money he hadn’t earned in his bank account without his permission. Like his dad had done with his loans?

  His father looked back at him. “I told you I had a plan. Stop messing with it.”

  Matt snorted out a laugh. “Your plan is to keep paying me for work I’m not doing? That’s your grand plan? You go in debt trying to keep me afloat?”

  “That’s not exactly how I pictured it.”

  “Listen, Dad, I appreciate your help, but I’m okay.”

  “You’re way too stubborn for your own good,” his dad said, “you know that?”

  “I learned from the best.”

  §

  By eight o’clock on Sunday morning, Matt had already been awake two hours. Two long, boring hours. It wasn’t likely the rest of his morning would be any different since he didn’t have therapy on Sundays and it’d be hours before Crystal and his family arrived.

  He wouldn’t be so freakin’ bored if he were home. But he wasn’t home. All because he’d gone for a joy ride in an ice storm.

  Why? If anyone knew, they weren’t sharing. Whoever had paid his loans wasn’t sharing, either. He should call Travis and ask if the pool league had paid them. He’d much rather find it’d been them than his father.

  He grabbed his cell phone but didn’t dial. Just because he’d been awake for hours didn’t mean the whole world was up, as well. Especially when the free people of the world had probably been out until bar closing last night. Certainly wasn’t because he wanted to be told the finger was still pointing at his father.

  “Damn.” He tossed the phone onto the bed. What now? Count ceiling tiles? He looked up at the plaster ceiling and sighed. It was going to be a damn long morning.

  “Ho, ho, ho, bro. Merry Christmas.”

  Matt grinned at the sound of his friend’s voice. Hallelujah. Salvation from boredom. “You missed Christmas by a few months.”

  “So I should take this back?” Derrick handed Matt a cashier’s check.

  “What’s this?” Six hundred ninety-two dollars and eighty-three cents. Holy shit.

  “It’s the money the pool league collected so far. Pops told you about putting out the containers, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” He also said the pool league probably paid my loans.

  “Trav said to let you know he’s sorry the check isn’t bigger, but...”

  Here it comes.

  “…we just put the containers out a week ago. We’re still collecting, though. Will be until people stop dropping money in the jugs.”

  Matt sighed and his shoulders deflated. If the containers had only been put out a week ago, there likely hadn’t been enough money to cover his loan payments. The finger was inching back toward his father.

  “Do you need more?” Derrick reached for his back pocket. “I could probably spare a buck or two.” He opened his wallet and pulled out two one-hundred-dollar bills, so crisp they looked ironed.

  Matt waved away the offered money. “I’m fine.”

  Derrick set the money on the nightstand. “Consider it a loan. Cheap. Only thirty percent interest.”

  A loan. Matt looked at the money and then at Derrick. Paying his loans didn’t seem like something Derrick would do, but he was grasping at straws now. “Is there any chance you…” Why would Derrick pay his loans and then give him an extra two hundred? Derrick, who darn near laminated every dollar he got to protect it until time’s end. “Nah,” he said, dismissing the idea.

  “I what?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that someone paid my loans. I was wondering if it was you.”

  Derrick’s dimple showed as he laughed. “Yeah, it was me.”

  It had been a long shot. And, really, he wouldn’t have wanted it to be Derrick any more than he wanted it to be his dad. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “Somebody paid your loans?” He looked away like he was embarrassed he hadn’t been the one. “That’s kind of strange, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Worse than strange. It’s rude, sneaking behind my back like that. I don’t understand why whoever it was didn’t just tell me.”

  “Because they knew you’d want to pay them back? Because they’re afraid you’d misunderstand their intentions? Who knows. It’s not worth worrying over, is it?”

  He wasn’t worrying over it. It’s just that the whole thing was bugging him.

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and you’re not going to solve the mystery right now,” Derrick said. “So what do you say we go for a little walk…uh, I mean, go for a change of scenery. I can buy you breakfast or something.”

  Sitting in the cafeteria over scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee added in for Derrick, Matt noticed how tired his friend looked. Derrick was sure to look even more haggard as the days went by, especially if Matt couldn’t go back to work. Looking for the loophole he’d yet to find on his own, he asked, “How much help do you think I can be on the jobsite in this chair?”

  Derrick looked up from his plate. His fork hung suspended in front of his mouth for a moment before he laid it down. “This is just hypothetical, right?”

  “Of course.” At least, he hoped it was.

  “There’s lots you can do. You can…” His eyebrows shifted and his mouth twitched as he apparently worked his way around the jobsite in a wheelchair. His face became more animated the longer he stayed silent. Finally, he said, “You can write up all the bids. Plan the projects. Order the materials.”

  Those jobs would be perfect. But his father would never trust him with that much responsibility. It didn’t pay to even entertain the idea. “You mean I can be a secretary.”

  “Sounds more like a supervisor to me. But it doesn’t matter because it’s all hypothetical. You’re going to be walking out of this place.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  Derrick stayed silent.

  “We need to find a way to get Dad to consider hiring someone to replace me, at least until I’m on my feet again.”

  “Yeah, like that’ll happen.”

  “Dad’ll l
isten to you if you tell him to hire someone.”

  Derrick held up his hands and violently shook his head. “Huh uh. I don’t want your being replaced to be on my head.” He put his hands down. “Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun, anyhow?”

  “If we want anyone good, it’s got to be now, before construction season starts.”

  A tapping sound came from beneath the table. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  He was right, but this time he really didn’t want to hear it.

  “I’d go talk to Pops if I felt there was a need, but there’s not.” The tapping quit when Derrick leaned forward. His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to walk again.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then, I’ll carry you around the jobsite, if I have to. I’ll put in extra hours. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you on the crew.” His eyes burned into Matt’s. “Whatever it takes.”

  §

  Abby curled up next to Paul, absorbing his body heat. She focused on the way his chest pressed against her with each breath. If only time could stop right now and she’d never have to make a decision about the job. If time stopped right now, she’d never have to worry about Paul leaving her. She could pretend, forever, that true love and happily-ever-after could really happen to her. She pulled away and made a pillow with her arm and stared at the triangle patch of hair in the middle of his chest. “Tomorrow’s the day I have to tell Mr. Jones if I’m taking the job.”

  The triangle patch of hair stilled for a moment. “That soon already, huh?”

  “Yes. That soon.”

  “What have you decided?”

  “I’ve decided not to decide until I have to decide.”

  “That’s my Abby.”

  My Abby. She 5loved the way that sounded. “Deciding to take the job at St. Luke’s was so much easier after finding Jovan in bed with his ex-girlfriend. That pretty much told me where our relationship was headed.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “He said he loved me.”

  Paul rolled toward her, locking his gaze on hers. “I love you.”

  She wanted to believe him. “Great. Now, I’ll find you in bed with some ex tomorrow.”

  “Not likely.” He slid his hand across her bare skin. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “Then, I guess I shouldn’t do this.” He slid his hand between her legs.

  Forty-five minutes later, he kissed her at his door. When he unlocked his lips from hers, he didn’t release his arms. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

  She gripped the lapels of his robe. She didn’t have to leave. Not ever. All she had to do was trust him, that he really meant it when he said he loved her. She loosened her fingers. “I don’t want the neighbors to talk.”

  “Believe me, they talk plenty already. They’re all jealous of me, landing a hot chick like you.” He planted another kiss. “If I said it again, that I love you, would you stay?”

  Stay for how long? For tonight? Longer? Until he grew tired of her?

  “I have to go home.”

  “I’ll say it, anyhow. I love you, Abby.”

  His embrace felt too tight. Suffocating. She pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A beautiful pink filled the eastern horizon when Abby left her apartment the next morning. She paused to admire the sunrise, waved goodbye to her landlady, and then climbed into her Grand Am, like any ordinary day. In the wee hours of the morning, when she’d woken up alone, she’d made up her mind. Now, as she drove off to start another week at St. Luke’s, she prayed it was a decision she wouldn’t regret.

  She used her employee pass key at the back entrance to the hospital and slipped through the quiet hallways of the obstetrics department, toward Paul’s office. Since this decision involved him, as well, she figured he should know before she called Kyle Jones.

  She cringed at the sound of her rubber soles squeaking on the highly polished tile—a fingernails-on-chalkboard sound in the otherwise quiet area. When she passed a darkened waiting room, another type of sound caused her footsteps to falter. A shushing noise? She stopped and listened. Her imagination. Then, she heard it again. Clearly, a person. Saying

  “shhh.” There was more. A sigh. A woman’s sigh.

  She backed up and peered into the darkened waiting room. On any given day there would be over a hundred men within the hospital complex who had thinning, light brown hair and doctor’s coats, but only one she’d recognize with a brief glance. There was no denying that the man she now saw embracing a nurse was Paul.

  With a feeling of déjà vu, the room pulled out of focus. The walls zoomed outward, while Paul and Cara seemed to grow to staggering proportions.

  She wanted to run, but she couldn’t make her feet move. As if Paul could sense her there, he slowly turned, and their eyes met. She saw on his face the same expression Jovan had worn, the oh-shit-I’m-in-trouble look. He took a few steps away from Cara as though that’d clear him of any wrongdoing.

  “Paul, just the person I was looking for,” Abby said, forcing an upbeat tempo to her voice while willing her knees not to collapse on her. Paul’s cheek was smudged with bright pink lipstick. Cara looked upset, like she hadn’t wanted to get caught with her boss.

  Abby focused her attention back on Paul and stared at the lipstick on his cheek. To think she’d actually believed, if only for a second, that he truly loved her. That she’d almost given up the job she really wanted, hoping this time love could be real. Thank heavens she’d come to her senses. Best to snatch up the job and leave Paul before he could leave her. But the joke was now on her.

  “Abby, honey, this isn’t what you think.”

  Honey? Not what she thought? He was so wrong. “Looks like my decision to take the job in Milwaukee was the right one.”

  With that, she turned and walked as calmly as she could for the door.

  “Abby, let me explain. Cara was upset. I was just comforting her.”

  She kept walking. Her heart thumped and hot blood warmed her cheeks. The grapefruit she’d had for breakfast tried to work its way upward. She nodded at a young man pushing a cart filled with specimen tubes. Your average, everyday kind of morning.

  Somehow, she managed to keep the tears at bay until she pushed open the door to the first restroom she came to. She pressed her hands against the counter and breathed deeply. What had she done wrong this time? Had she been too independent? Should she have spent the night with him? Maybe if she’d spent less time with her mother and more time with him. Whatever it was, she’d done something wrong, something to push him into Cara’s arms.

  She crouched into a ball with her hands clinging to the edge of the sink. Inside her head, more images mingled with the one of Paul and Cara. Jovan, naked, thrusting himself against an equally naked Belinda. And then, her father, handing her a cuddly brown teddy bear, just before he walked out of her life with a “see you later.”

  Her lips pressed together. Just one more lesson to prove there was no such thing as happily-ever-after. She should have known better than to fall for all that garbage she read in books.

  She pushed herself upright. Never again. She was done with the books. Done with the fairytales. Done with men.

  Her teeth bit into her lip and a tear crept down the well-traveled path. No chance for love. No hope for a family.

  “Stop it,” she said, as she straightened her spine. With angry swipes, she brushed her hands over her cheeks. She didn’t need love. She was fine with it being just her and her mother.

  She splashed cold water over her face. Her eyes were red and the skin around them puffy, but there was little she could do about it now. At least the tear tracks were gone. Still locked up inside the tiny bathroom, she pulled her cell phone from her purse. She settled herself into the corner by the paper towel dispenser and dialed.

  At least something good came from this morning. She wouldn’t spend her life wondering if she’d
made a mistake in leaving Paul.

  §

  Matt listened to the silence while Abby worked his legs. It’d been at least five minutes since she’d said anything and then only to say, “Lay down.”

  What’d that bring her up to? Maybe forty words, total, between this afternoon’s session and this morning’s? He’d caught the stupid ball she’d thrown way left and he hadn’t fallen over. She hadn’t so much as smiled. No Way to Go when he rolled over every time on the first try. It didn’t take a genius to figure out something was bothering her.

  Not like it was his business. Her being quiet, for once, was rather refreshing. Her sad eyes were another matter. He stared at the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Whoever had done the sheetrock had done a piss-poor job. The seam was as smooth as cottage cheese. Bad job. Real bad.

  Bad. Whatever was bothering Abby had to be bad. Nothing like waking up in the hospital without being able to move your legs, but bad enough to shut her up. Bad enough to make him worry. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Abby seemed to not notice. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  One quick word. She didn’t even look his way.

  He lowered himself to the table again. And listened to the quiet.

  His gaze shifted back to Abby. He felt a stab of pain at seeing those sad eyes again.

  She wasn’t fine.

  He worked himself up again, all the way up, until he was sitting. He put his hand on hers, stopping her from moving his legs. “Talk to me.”

  Her lips disappeared between her teeth, and she blinked several times. He knew the signs of a woman on the verge of tears. He’d seen it enough with Crystal. With Crystal, he’d hold her and soothe her until the tears stopped. He planted his hands on the mat. “I’m a good listener.”

  She straightened her back and drew in a breath. “Everything’s okay.”

  The hell it was. “If that’s okay, I’d hate to see not okay.”