The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7

by Jacqueline Druga

  Ellen stood there before that dresser with Frank’s drawer still half opened. She knew Frank was gone and she knew where she was just seconds before he walked in. Right there and then, she was grateful for the interruption. “What was I thinking? I trust Frank. I trust him.” Grabbing her shorts that were stacked on the dresser, she opened her own drawer. Even if it was something so minor as checking out his drawer, Ellen felt guilty, because she was checking up on Frank and she had never done that before. Without hesitation she shut Frank’s partially open drawer. But had she looked down, she would have seen that the bottle that she dumped and threw out not long ago, was simply replaced by another and tucked in the side of that drawer.

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  ‘Where was Dean?’ Joe questioned in his mind as he looked at his watch while he waited for him in his office. Could Dean ever be on time for anything? They were to call Robbie from the office close to twenty minutes earlier. Joe would have called himself, but Dean was supposed to give Robbie instructions on some medical procedure or something. Rubbing his eyes which felt strained from looking at food projections and preliminary work ups for a metal run in two weeks, Joe felt his elbow hit his ashtray. It toppled to the floor. “Shit.” Bending down sideways from his chair to pick it up, Joe heard the door to his office open. “Bout goddamn time you . . .” He sat up and shut up when he saw it wasn’t Dean who walked in. “Yes?”

  Ben from fabrics walked in first, Todd, a much bigger man, was behind him. Both of them stood before Joe’s desk a foot apart with arms crossed.

  “What?” Joe barked. “Are you gonna stare down at me or say something?”

  Ben let out a sighing sound, “Joe, you have to do something about us working together.” He spoke so femininely, his hand flying about.

  “Like what?” Joe asked.

  “We can’t work together, Joe,” Ben continued. “I can’t work with this man.”

  “You can’t work with me?” Todd stomped his foot with an open mouth gasp. “Me? You can’t work with me?

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Who’s the one who’s being a baby about all of this?” Todd pointed. “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes you. Big baby, crying because you don’t have your way. Oh the grass is always greener now, isn’t it?” Todd nodded his head. “But when you see you can’t pasture that field what do you do? You come running home. Well I don’t want you and because of that, you don’t want to work with me.”

  “I could work with you, Todd, but you stopped treating me with the respect I deserve. Like today when I mixed up that new shade of blue dye, what did you do? You criticized.”

  “I did not!” Todd strongly objected. “I merely stated it was a weak color.”

  “Criticized.” Ben faced Joe. “He criticized.”

  “Why are you bringing Mr. Slagel into this? You think he can put you somewhere else? What can you do? I can field, but I’m not fielding. No-no.”

  “Joe, do you hear how he talks to me? Lack of respect. I can’t take it, Joe. I cannot work with this beast anymore.”

  “Beast? I’ll have you know for two years I treated you pretty damn good. I was . . .” Todd stopped yelling when the door opened and Dean walked in. With an extended hand, he pointed at him. “YOU!” He scolded toward Dean. “This is all your fault. We wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you.”

  Dean looked at them and at Joe, then he turned around and walked back out the door.

  Joe stood up from his desk. “No. Request denied. I am not putting either of you anywhere else but in fabrics. Tough. You aren’t together anymore. Tough, deal with it, work around it.” He walked to them and led them to his door. “If I didn’t give new work to my daughter and Dean when they broke up, I’m not giving it to you. Out.” He opened the door. “Don’t bother me with this again. Go . . . go to Henry. He’s on council and he’ll listen.” As they stepped out, Joe shut the door. “Christ. And they scared away Dean too.” Shaking his head, he went back to his desk, looked at the ashes on the floor, and sat back down. As he did, the door opened back up and Dean came in.

  “Is it safe, Joe?” He shut the door in a sneaky manner.

  “What kind of trouble did you start between them two?” Joe grabbed a cigarette and lit it.

  “Must you smoke?” Dean fake coughed and sat down. “It wasn’t me. It was Ellen. She told… never mind. Are we going to call Robbie now?”

  “I’ve talked to him twice.” Joe pushed his work aside and pulled out his phone. “He’s going a little crazy. He hasn’t a clue how to take this blood right, especially when they’re convulsing.”

  “It’s not easy to do.” Dean listened to Joe dial.

  “Robbie,” Joe spoke loudly through the noise of the reception, “how’s it going.”

  “It’s going? Is Dean there yet?” Robbie asked.

  “Right here.” Joe handed him the phone.

  “Robbie?” Dean called his name. “Listen, it’s not important that you get the sample if they are convulsing too much. Don’t try it.”

  “But you said you needed a sample of the blood when they come out of remission,” Robbie said.

  “True but you’re working hard enough. Just let it go,” Dean told him.

  “Dean, I have all the stuff right here. Just tell me.”

  “O.K. how bad is he shaking?”

  Robbie looked down at Greg whose body trembled so badly it could have moved from his sleeping bag. “Bad.”

  “Robbie, after you’ve placed on the tourniquet, I need you to secure his arm between your arm and body. Got that? Arm extended but make sure all of your supplies are handy.”

  Robbie positioned himself to do that. He placed on the tourniquet and followed Dean’s instructions. “Got it.”

  “Do you have the tube partially in the hub? The hub is the plastic thing with the needle sticking from it.”

  “It’s ready.”

  “Do you see the vein?”

  “Yes.”

  “Brace the vein between your forefinger and thumb with your one hand then insert the hub into the vein with the other, slowly, but not too slow.”

  Robbie grunted some as he struggled with Greg. “He’s really moving, Dean.”

  “Then don’t do it. Because you don’t want to stick your . . .”

  “Ow.” Robbie exclaimed.

  “Robbie?” Such panic filled Dean’s voice. “Drop what you’re doing and clean that out. Right now. Do you hear me?”

  “I’m joking, Dean. I’m joking. I got the blood. The tube is filling.”

  Dean let out a breath and looked at Joe who looked just as frazzled. “God, Robbie, don’t do that to us. We thought you stuck yourself with a contaminated needle.”

  “I’m fine and I have the blood. Just tell Frank or whoever it’ll be ready tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Robbie. Good job.”

  “Thanks,” Robbie said. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. Tell my Dad I’ll be in touch.”

  “I will.” Closing his eyes briefly, Dean disconnected the call. “He had to go. By the background noise, things don’t sound good.”

  “It didn’t sound good for a second when it sounded like he stuck himself. That would have been bad, Dean. Right?”

  “Right Joe.” Dean shook his head. “Good thing your son has a sick sense of humor. He’s been lucky so far, but a stick with a dirty needle is a sure fire way to get it. He was lucky.” Dean handed Joe back the phone then leaned in the chair, letting his racing heart calm down and telling himself Robbie was only joking.

  Robbie covered Greg fully then stood up, still holding that tube of blood in his hand. He walked it to the case that Beginnings would pick up the next day. After setting it inside, Robbie took a second to sit down. He plopped hard on the grass and ran his hand over his face. He had a hard time catching his breath and his heart beat strongly within his chest. It beat even stronger when he brought his hand up to the focus of his eyes and viewed the bead of bloo
d that formed on the inside portion of his thumb. Blood from the very spot that the needle he had just used on Greg had slipped from his control and jabbed deep into his skin.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ellen cringed one more time at the noise factor in Frank’s house then smiled and moved to the door. “Frank, you sure you’ll be all right with all of these guys and the baby until Dean picks them up?”

  “El, please.” Frank scoffed at her while he held Nick. “Henry’s here.”

  “Speaking of which, where is . . .” She smiled when Henry came from the kitchen. “What were you doing?”

  “You forgot your rice cakes, El.” Henry handed her the plate. “You can’t show up empty handed if all the other women are bringing something. That will just give them something that they can gossip about you.”

  “Do you think they talk about me, Henry?” Ellen took the rice cakes. “You don’t think they’ll be mean to me, do you?”

  “Anything is possible, El. But you know the age old saying…kill them with kindness.”

  Frank shook his head. “Fuck that. Just kill Jenny Matoose with kindness. Don’t worry about the rest of them. Why are you wearing lipstick?” Frank extended his hand to her mouth. “Maybe if you just rubbed a little . . .”

  “Frank.” Ellen smacked his hand away. “I want to look good. Leave my makeup alone. Do I look all right, Henry?”

  “Beautiful, El.” Henry kissed her on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Henry. I should be going.”

  Henry opened the door for her. “I’ll wait up for you, El.”

  “Thanks Henry. If this gets too much for you, why don’t you go work on that program Robbie sent? You haven’t done that too much today.”

  “Oh No!” Frank said loudly. “Henry stays right here. He has to learn, El. He was real good when Nick was in the clinic, but now’s the reality check. He stays put at least until Nick is asleep for the night. I’ll wait up for you too.” He kissed her on her cheek then hurried and wiped some of her lipstick off. “Better.”

  “Frank!!” Ellen yelled. “See what you did? I look pale now.”

  “You look better. Go.”

  “I’m going.” Ellen breathed in a nervous breath and stepped through the door “Wish me luck with the wolves.” Holding her rice cakes with confidence, she trotted off to Jenny’s house.

  Frank closed the door and walked to Henry, nearly tripping over Alex who flew by him. He laughed when he saw Henry panic. “We’re fine, Henry. In fact,” Frank moved closer, “Hold Nick for a while. I have to do dishes.”

  “No, that’s O.K. Frank.” Henry stuck his hands in his pockets. “You can hold him.”

  “Henry, hold the baby.”

  “Maybe if I sit down.”

  “You don’t need to sit down. He’s not that heavy.” Frank held Nick to him. “Hold him.”

  “I’d rather not. I might drop him or break him.”

  “Break him.” Frank laughed in ridicule. “You aren’t going to break him, Henry. What is it? Don’t you like him?”

  “Oh I love him.” Henry backed away. “But he scares me. He scares me even more out of the clinic. In that contained space he looked much larger. I’ll wait until he’s bigger. But you hold him, Frank.” Henry sat on the couch. “He likes you.”

  “He likes me because I’m the only one who holds him. God, Henry, when you and Ellen have this kid, he’s gonna feel abandoned.”

  “That isn’t a very nice thing to say, Frank. I’ll take care of him. I’ll learn, but I’ll wait right now. Why isn’t he lying down anyhow? He’s sleeping.”

  “Babies always sleep, Henry. I’ll lay him down.” Frank moved to the bassinet. “But when he wakes up, you’re on preemie detail.” Gently laying the baby down, Frank covered him, ignored Henry’s whistling, and went to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

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  The laughter, the chattering, the clanking of glasses stopped to a dead silence the moment Ellen stepped inside Jenny’s living room.

  Jenny closed her door. “Your presence is known.” She took the plate from Ellen. “Rice cakes?”

  “It’s all I can make.” Ellen stared at the faces that stared back. Sixteen other women huddled in folding chairs, on the floor, and on the furniture in Jenny’s living room. She wiggled her fingers in a wave at them. “Kind of reminds me of the old Tupperware parties. Are you our hostess, Jenny?”

  “Are we gonna have to ask you to leave?”

  “No, I’ll be good.”

  “Go have a seat. We’re ready to start.”

  “Just one thing.” Ellen held up her hand. “How long are we usually in these meetings?”

  “Ready to go already?”

  “No,” Ellen snapped sarcastically, “I want to know how long I get out of my house?”

  “It depends. Usually three hours. Maybe.”

  “Great. I’ll have a seat.” She walked further into the living room, stepped over Melissa, who sat on the floor, and hit her in the head with her leg as she did. “Sorry.” Ellen moved to the couch. “May I?” She looked down at Trish who sat on the couch and Susan who sat next to her. “Can I squeeze in here?” Ellen waited for Susan to move some. She sat down, knowing she had the good seat because the coffee table was filled with the finger foods everyone brought. She leaned to Trish who sat perkily and ready for things to start. “Trish,” Ellen whispered, “am I allowed to eat?”

  “Oh sure. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jenny took her position before the women in the living room. “If everyone’s ready, we’ll get started.” She noticed that Cindy, a thin woman with extremely short hair raised her hand. “Yes Cindy?”

  “Should we be watching what we say tonight?” She pointed to Ellen.

  Ellen looked up as she stuck the piece of celery in her mouth. “What?”

  Jenny shook her head. “No, we’re not walking on eggshells. Ellen wants to join our group. After all, she is in the same boat as all of us. The only difference is, she isn’t as advanced in handling the situations as we are. Perhaps we can help her. Right, Ellen?”

  Ellen chewed. “Right. I want to learn. My God, who made this dip? This is excellent.” She grabbed another piece of celery and dipped it thoroughly.

  Jenny continued on. “We’ll get the women’s progress portion done first. Yes Ellen?”

  Ellen swallowed her food. “Just curious, Jenny. You guys aren’t starting the next women’s lib movement are you?”

  “No,” Jenny said.

  “Good, because I like not having to do as much as the men.”

  “We all do, Ellen. We all like being treated special. We are because they aren’t that many of us left in this world. The men need us. We know it and they know it too. The whole purpose of these meetings is to hash out problems we have dealing with being a necessity at times more than an asset,” Jenny explained. “Problems, everyday mind you, that we all have juggling more than one man ad spreading ourselves around because it’s the right thing to do. Smiling about it can wear thin. This is our outlet. This is where we try to make it tolerable when it’s not. Understand?”

  “Completely.” Ellen held up her hand. “Go on.”

  “Continuing.” Jenny looked at a sheet of paper. “I thought after women’s progress portion and after we discuss what needs to be brought to attention to the community, we could do something a little different. Instead of our typical problem and solution time, we could incorporate that into the open forum discussion before our activity, but let’s focus on Ellen today. Let’s allow her to ask us questions and show her how we work. In agreement?” She waited for a nod from everyone. “Ellen? Is that all right with you?”

  “Oh sure, I need all the help I can get. What’s this red dip?” Ellen looked closely at the bowl. “It looks good. Is it made with ketchup? Trish, I bet you made this.” Ellen reached to try it.

  Jenny moved on with the meeting. “Progress time. I wanted to let you know I spoke with Joe and he’s gi
ving consideration to our request to make the first menstrual day for all of us a work free day.” Jenny stopped when she heard Ellen choke. “Problem,, Ellen?”

  “No.” Ellen shook her head. “Joe’s actually considering that?”

  “Yes as a special favor to the women who do special favors for the men. We deserve it.”

  “Sure we do,” Ellen shrugged. “It’s just funny. You know, of course he was being sarcastic, but that was also a Frank . . .” She heard a soft rumble of moans. “. . . idea.” Her eyes shifted around. “Sorry.”

  “Getting back. If Joe agrees, I know some of you said you’d rather have it be your second day. I’m sure he’ll be fine with that. We’ll have to register your menstrual cycles with Andrea for verification. Ladies, I’m going to discuss with Joe that even though it’s our day off, we don’t have to deal with any children if we have them. We still get nursery privileges.”

  Ellen laughed loudly grabbing everyone’s attention. “Don’t get me wrong. I like this idea I do. I just can’t visualize my father sitting seriously with you and discussing menstrual cycles. You know one time I tried to talk to him and Frank . . .” She looked oddly at another humming of moans. “. . . about it and they shut me up. Like now. Sorry. I’ll eat my dip.”

  Jenny continued to read down her notes. “Here’s what I have to bring to Joe’s attention during this upcoming week. I want to discuss when Beginnings makes shoes they need think of us more and give us at least one more style to choose from. Flats perhaps? Instead of those dime store sneaker things we are made.” She received a room full of applause. “I spoke to Ben from fabrics. He has designed a new pair of slacks for us, something that will flatter us fuller figure gals. He said he can make them right away and in a nice shade of blue as soon as Joe O.K.’s it. I’ll move Joe along on that.”

  Ellen listened to Jenny ramble on about clothing items, ladies day at the social hall, and such. The whole time while she listened, Ellen couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Jenny discussing such trivial things with Joe. She knew Joe would hear about it from her the second she saw him.