Seth left without responding. Something was wrong. The phone rang, stopping the lawyer from joining him.
“Put me on the list. He’s screwed me over, but I’ll be damned if he does the same to you.”
Ralph was enjoying his fifteen-minute break when she arrived. He stood in the alley letting the cold breeze relax his aching body. He was getting too old for this job. Before he began working here, he didn’t worry about soaking his feet or aches and pains. The job had definitely made an ancient man out of his young body.
Ralph shook his head. He didn’t need this right now. He mind was hanging on by a thread. He was in the midst of working his second straight shift because the new guy they’d hired didn’t show. He could have told Ms. Rapport she was making the wrong choice, but it wasn’t his job.
He looked down at Karla. She looked like she needed to hurt somebody. He didn’t want to ask, but she left him no choice. “What are you talking about?”
“I want to testify in your case against Seth,” Karla explained.
“Why?” he asked, leery.
“I want him to pay for what he did to you. He knows he promised you the job.”
Ralph was glad someone saw his side. Everyone he worked with pretended they didn’t know. Ralph wasn’t surprised though. They were the type whose opinion swayed with the wind, which blew depending on what side Seth was on.
“He did say I had the job.”
“He’s guilty as hell.”
“Wait, what the hell are you getting out of this?”
Karla didn’t hesitate. “The satisfaction that he finally gets what he deserves. You know he’s dating my best friend. I don’t know which is worse, what he did to you or her.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“What?” Karla didn’t understand.
“She broke it off with him.”
“She did?”
“I thought you said she was your best friend?”
“She is,” she quickly added. “It’s just that Seth has caused so much tension we hardly talk to anymore.”
Ralph looked at his watch. It was time to return to the hellhole. He told her the name of the firm representing him. “They said it’s an open and shut case.”
“It will be after I get on the stand,” Karla said.
Seth rested his arm on the doorjamb, waiting. He’d repeatedly knocked on the door and shouted Tatum’s name. He’d barely resisted the urge to burst through the door, trying to give her a chance to open it.
He checked his watch. It had been long enough. Pulling out his old key, he opened the door. Once inside, Seth searched each room. The apartment was totally silent. Panic began to encompass his body.
He opened the bedroom door. It was darker than he remembered for this time in the evening.
He turned the lights on before glancing around. He tensed. Tatum was lying in the fetal position with her back facing him. Two blankets covered her.
Seth studied her, holding his breath as he slowly approached the bed. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. The blankets were too thick. People didn’t die in the fetal position, he assured himself. He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he would accept any notion right now.
“Tatum.”
She didn’t move.
Seth pulled the blankets slightly lower so he could get a better look. She looked peaceful, but he wasn’t sure that was a good sign.
“Tatum, wake up.”
There was still no response.
He touched her. She felt so cold.
He gently placed his two fingers on the nape of her neck and waited. Prayed she was fine.
The wait seemed like forever. He needed to feel a pulse. He couldn’t let her disappear from his life without a fight.
He wasn’t feeling anything. He thought he was touching the right place, but he wasn’t sure. He’d never checked anyone’s pulse.
The phone rang. Seth cursed. He wasn’t going to answer it until he heard the voice on the machine.
He grabbed the phone off the nightstand. “Adam, I can’t find a pulse.”
“Tatum’s dead?” Adam panicked.
“I can’t find a pulse,” Seth repeated, not allowing the lawyer’s words to register.
“Are you positive?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you check?”
Seth described where he’d checked.
“Check her wrist,” Adam instructed.
Seth rushed to the bed again and pulled her arm from the bulky blankets. He impatiently waited and then sighed, deep.
He grabbed the phone again. “I found a pulse.”
Adam exhaled and told Seth he would check back later. Seth threw the phone on the other side of the bed. Now, his mission was trying to wake her.
His voice was more forceful as he called her name. “Tatum, open your eyes.”
She didn’t respond.
“Tatum.” He shook her.
Tatum groaned. He began to breath normally again.
He pulled her into a sitting position, and she finally opened her eyes. They were glassy and gazed.
“Babe, did you take something?”
Tatum weakly pushed him away and slumped over. He pulled her into a sitting position again.
“Answer me. Did you take any drugs?”
“Let me die,” she ordered.
Seth shook her. “You are not dying. I won’t let you.”
Tatum cried, “Please let me go.”
“Did you take something?”
Tatum went back to sleep. There was no use.
Seth thought about what he was going to do. He had to know if she took something so he could get her to a hospital, so he began tearing up the apartment. There had to be evidence somewhere.
Seth found flu medicine in the bathroom. It looked like it was a new box with only a few tablets missing. He counted three times to make sure there were no empty bottles in the medicine cabinet.
He sat in the chair he’d moved into her room and watched her. He wanted to make sure she didn’t suddenly take a turn for the worse.
Hours passed before she woke up.
Tatum began restlessly changing positions. She didn’t want to wake up. Her body still throbbed. Her throat was sore and her head ached. Her need to be alone and her constant crying had turned into an unexpected illness. It came on slowly before slamming her with unbelievable pain. She’d had just enough time to make it to the grocery store for medicine.
Tatum slowly sat up, prepared for the worst. She had to go to the bathroom. The last time, it took her almost an hour to crawl from her bed to the bathroom down the hall.
“Are you alright now?” The voice interrupted the silence in the dark room.
Tatum jumped. She looked around the room, wondering where the voice had come from. It sounded like Seth, but he wasn’t anywhere around. She hadn’t seen him in almost a month. Lord, her poor body couldn’t take much more.
The light on her nightstand came on, and Tatum quickly turned to see how it happened. She just as quickly regretted turning her head. Now, her neck cramped.
She groaned. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m happy your loving attitude hasn’t change,” he commented.
“Fuck you,” she whined.
“I take it you have a cold or something?”
“What the hell do you think?” Tatum pushed back the blankets then slowly swung her legs over the edge.
Seth nodded. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She tried to get up but sat down again, wincing in pain and prepared to sit there for the rest of her life. She wasn’t going to let Seth see her crawl to the bathroom. Nor was she going to ask him for help.
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He stood in front of her. “You’re either going to the kitchen or bathroom. Which one?”
Tatum stared at him, prepared to challenge him. He wasn’t going to win. But then she gave in almost imm
ediately. It wasn’t her will that was weak, but her bladder. “The bathroom.”
Seth carried her to the bathroom. She leaned against the sink waiting for him to leave.
“Can you take it from here?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.
“Of course. I’ve been using the bathroom on my own since I was toddler.”
Seth ignored the comment. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Tatum watched Seth try to organize his duties after she was comfortably situated in bed. She begged for a pill, but he wouldn’t fulfill her request. He simply stood beside the bed with the pills in his hand.
She tried to swipe them, but he put them in his jeans pocket. “Give me my medicine.”
“Did you eat?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not going to have you sicker than you already are,” he explained.
She leaned back in bed. “Seth, please. You’re being meaner than usual.”
“I…” Seth stopped. Frustrated, he shook his head before he left the room.
Tatum wanted to cry. She’d pushed him away and he was never coming back. She’d now have to fend for herself. You’re such a loser.
“All right!” Seth’s booming voice woke her up from a light sleep. She sat up. Although she didn’t show it, she thanked God he didn’t leave her.
A red and white pill rested in the palm of his hand. Tatum reached for it, but he made his hand into a closed fist. “To get this, you have to finish this.”
She watched him set the pill on the nightstand and pick up the huge bowl of chicken noodle soup.
“I don’t like soup.”
“Good.” He lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips. “You’ll see the bottom of the bowl faster.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Finish this and you’ll have your pill.”
Tatum pushed the spoon away and soup spilled on the blanket. He gave her another spoonful. She did the same thing.
“Babe, you’ve got an attitude out of this world right now, but physically you’re no match for me. So you can do it the hard way or the easy way. You choose.”
She stared at him. This was a man who’d professed his love for her. He’d appeared when she needed him most. She couldn’t push him away again.
“I hate you so much.” Her words were angry but her tone was light.
Seth didn’t answer. Instead, Seth watched her eat. Once she was finished, she received her reward. Tatum eagerly took the pill. The chicken soup had helped her sore throat.
Seth watched her sleep again and waited for Adam’s call. When Adam did call, they agreed to switch places. Adam watched Tatum while Seth hurried home and gathered clothes.
Adam was tempted to wake her. He was missing a file at the office. However, he decided to let her sleep. He knew she was meaner than the devil when was sick.
Adam flipped through channels as he waited for Seth’s return. He’d seen the chair next to Tatum’s bed but decided to stay in the living room. He was slowly falling asleep when Seth returned.
“What day is it?”
Tatum’s voice caught him off guard. He was reading the sports section and didn’t notice she was awake.
Seth told her the day. “I missed the end of November and the first part of December,” she said, shocked.
“You didn’t miss much,” he consoled.
“Adam must be insane by now,” she said, realizing all she’d missed.
He studied her. “You look better.”
“I feel better.” Her sore throat was gone, but her body and head still ached. It was more a dull thumping than sharp throbbing.
Seth’s stare lingered on her. “Are you ready for something other than soup?”
“Yes please,” she eagerly told him.
She watched him leave. She couldn’t believe he’d stayed around. Suddenly, she was embarrassed. She hadn’t washed up or changed clothes since she came down with a cold.
She shook her head, looking at her clothes. “Oh, you are a sad girl,” she commented out loud.
Tatum began to think he was a saint for not broaching the subject. “He’s definitely…”
She abruptly stopped talking when she realized something these weren’t the nightclothes she’d put on. She hated this matching pair of pink striped nightwear.
She pushed back the covers. These weren’t the correct sheets. The dark blue sheets didn’t match the red or yellow blankets. She would never choose these circus colors.
Opening her top, she peeked at her bra. Smelled herself. All the clues pointed to her suspicions.
Seth returned with a plate of food. She gave him a questioning look as he handed her the plate.
“What did you do to me while I was sick?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Did you do something to me?”
“What?” he asked, insulted.
Tatum pointed to her clothes and bedding. It took him a second, but he got it and rolled his eyes in disbelief.
“Not this again.”
“Yes, this again.”
“Is this another outburst about why I didn’t take advantage of you?”
“No, this is—”
“Good because I’d like to be thanked and not accused of anything sinister.”
Tatum cautiously ate while he watched her. “What did you do?” she asked when finished with her meal. “I mean, I would have felt you…”
“Washing you?” He finished her sentence. “It’s called a sponge bath and you owe me a couple. And not when I’m sick.”
“Dream on,” she commented.
Seth chuckled. “You and your apartment have been well taken care of, my dear.”
“I hate these clothes.”
“They shouldn’t be in the drawer then,” he countered.
“My bed looks like circus tent.”
“Next time, fall in love with an interior designer.”
She gave him a look. “You were born an ass, weren’t you?”
He laughed. “I wasn’t born one. I choose to be one.”
She handed him the plate then leaned back. He kissed her forehead before he left.
She couldn’t sleep. Her mind continuously went back to Thanksgiving Day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but something she could not forget nevertheless. Tears still swelled in her eyes every time she thought about talking to her grandmother that way. In another time, she would have probably been beaten and forced to apologize. She felt like a complete idiot to think that her family had changed. People like that never changed.
Tatum thought about Myra, Reggie and Anita. Deep inside she’d expected the nasty comments from her family. They’d done that many times before. Although it still hurt, it was a familiar pain. This time her cousins, the ones who’d supported her previously, ripped a new hole in her heart. She felt like an abused orphan promised the world by adoptive parents who changed their mind about keeping her. To feel secure and supported then abandoned was torture. She never thought they would turn on her like that.
She wanted to hate them but couldn’t. Her heart wanted to make excuses for them instead. They were scared. They wanted to help her, but they didn’t want to go through the same thing. They meant what they’d said at the birthday party.
Tatum imagined how full her answering machine would be with messages from her cousins. Myra probably called first. She’d probably poured her heart out, grief stricken by what happened. Myra would tell her she didn’t expect any of the argument or insults to happen. That her family wasn’t supposed to blindside her like that.
Reggie would be the second message on the answering machine. He’d tell her to stay strong and ignore his mother. Reggie would then talk about his own fears and that he didn’t help her because he was afraid of his mother. Her cousin would go on to say he loved his mother, but she was wrong.
Tatum sat up. She began to feel emotionally better as she thought about the awaiting messages.
She thought about her grandmother.
There was a chance the woman would reconsider. Maybe her words got through to her and she’d called. Yes, her grandmother must have left a message on her phone.
She walked to the living room. She’d expected Seth to tell her to return to bed, but he was asleep on the couch with the remote in his hand. She hoped the messages wouldn’t wake him. He looked exhausted.
She grew excited when she saw five messages on her machine.
Adam left the first message. He wondered why she hadn’t returned to work. The second was from a telemarketer. The next message was Adam again, wondering where she was. She began tapping the wooden table impatiently. Myra would be next—Tatum knew she would call. The fourth message was a wrong number.
“Come on,” Tatum whispered. “Where’s your message?”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She needed to stretch her muscles because nervousness had tightened them. The last beep sounded. She stopped breathing and waited.
“Tatum, I want you to call me back.”
She shook her head. It was Karla.
Dejected, she returned to her bedroom and didn’t realize Seth had followed her.
“Hey.” He sat on the bed. Tatum didn’t look at him. “Tatum.” He caressed her thigh. “Is there some important news you’ve been waiting for? Maybe it’s something I can help you with.”
Tatum needed to be alone, wanted to cry herself asleep. She felt sick all over again. This time it wasn’t the flu, but the familiar, dull heartache. Why did she continually set herself up for failure?
She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.
“Did Ralph do something to you?” Seth forced his jealousy aside and focused on her. “Babe, I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”
In that instant she knew she had two choices. She could keep pushing away the only person who’d constantly been there, or she could wait for people who were never going to see her as a human being.
Tatum hugged him, allowing the floodgates to open. She sobbed against the nape of his neck. Her body quaked with emotions. Everything — the pain, hurt, rage and resentment she’d felt for years — escaped her body. But she didn’t have a choice. It was time for them to go.
Seth held her tightly. Slowly, her weeping storm subsided.
The Score Page 18
