“You,” he shouted across the yard, pointing his finger directly at me. I really hoped there was someone standing behind me, but I knew that wasn’t the case. I sighed and braced myself for the onslaught of Hurricane Ford. He must have found out about his mom’s preparations, and now he was going to take it out on me.
Normally I would be able to handle this situation professionally, but Ford was different. None of my other patients’ family members had made my palms sweat and my stomach churn because of their…hotness. If I was being reasonable, his irate demeanor and general gruffness should have been a complete turnoff. Instead it only served to make him more interesting. Several times over the last two weeks I had caught myself wondering what had made him that way. It wasn’t his mom - anyone could see he loved her and treated her with the utmost respect.
Ford strode across the cold crunchy grass and stopped just a foot away from me, bordering on invading my personal space bubble. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides, and he was practically vibrating with tension.
“Why didn’t you tell me what she was doing?” He demanded, leaning down so his face was only inches from mine. The smell of his cologne was faint but enticing, and I was unnerved by his close proximity.
Taking a step back, I exhaled and answered as calmly as possible, “Maggie is my patient, not you. It’s my job to support her and help her with anything she needs…”
His lip curled up in a snarl, and he abruptly turned away to pace the sidewalk with both hands in his messy hair.
“Well, I’m her son. And I need to know what’s going on at all times. You can’t just waltz in here and help her die,” he ranted. “After today, I don’t want you here. I’m calling the agency for a replacement,” he growled, still facing away from me.
I wanted to be understanding of his pain, but he just made it so hard. His words hurt. Not just because he was basically firing me, but because it felt like he was blaming me for everything that was going on with his mom. This time it wasn’t possible to not take his words personally.
It wasn’t until Maggie touched my arm that I realized Ford was gone and I was still standing on the sidewalk.
“Come inside, Poppy. Let me make you some coffee,” Maggie said gently. I followed her into the house, swiping away the tears that had pooled in my eyes.
She sat me at the kitchen table and busied herself with brewing a pot of coffee. Normally I only drank coffee in the morning, but the warmth and caffeine would be comforting now.
With her back to me, Maggie said, “I apologize for my son, Poppy. He can be very…intense. And don’t worry about your job. I don’t want you to leave, and I’m the patient, right?” She winked at me over her shoulder.
I offered a weak smile and asked the question that I’d been stewing over since meeting Ford. “Why is he so angry? I understand he’s having a hard time accepting your illness, but it seems like he really hates me.”
Maggie set a mug down in front of me and left the room. When she returned a moment later, she was holding a large photo album. Sitting down next to me she opened it to the first page. Taking a sip of my coffee I looked over the pictures of a much younger Maggie holding a baby boy.
“Ford wasn’t always this way. He was such a happy baby, always smiling.” She flipped to the next page to reveal Ford as a toddler, with lighter hair and the same striking blue eyes. There was a man, who I assumed to be his father, in the pictures as well. Maggie continued to flip through the pages of Ford as a child looking happy, and I realized I had never seen the grown up Ford smile.
When we reached the time when Ford looked to be about seven or eight years old, the man disappeared from the pictures and only Maggie remained.
“Ford’s father left when he was seven. We had been high school sweethearts, and apparently he was bored with our life,” Maggie explained. I knew what it was like to lose a father at a young age, though I had never had to experience the feeling that my father just didn’t want me.
“After Ford’s father left, I had to work two jobs to keep up with the bills. This was the only home Ford had known, and I didn’t want him to lose that too. I thought signing him up to play football would keep him busy and out of trouble.”
One of the reasons I wanted to be in the health care field was that I felt like I was really able to empathize with people. And right now it was like I could feel the pain that Ford would have felt as a child.
Maggie got up to pour herself a cup of coffee while I continued looking through the album. Nearly all of the pictures that followed were of Ford in a football uniform, from seven years old all the way through high school. I was glad I didn’t know him then, or I would have had a serious crush on him. I snorted quietly. Like I didn’t have a crush on him now.
Maggie sat back down and continued Ford’s life story. “He was very good,” she said, pointing at an action shot of Ford on the field getting ready to throw a pass. How had I never watched football before? He looked seriously hot in his uniform.
“He was going all the way. From high school to college and then to the NFL.”
Wow, I had no idea he was that good. Since he was currently tending bar and not playing in the NFL, I braced myself for the unhappy ending to this story.
“It’s coming up on three years now since he broke his leg - a career ending injury,” Maggie said quietly. “His football career ended that day, and his hopes and dreams with it. He hasn’t been the same since.” She looked so sad that I reached over and covered her hand with mine.
“I’m sorry, Maggie. That would be very difficult to get over such a disappointment,” I said.
She shook her head. “He won’t watch football anymore or even talk about it. His friends and I have probably enabled him to hide from it by tiptoeing around the subject. But looking back I think we may have done more harm than good. It probably would have been better to force him to deal with it and move on.”
Ford seemed to be the epitome of stubborn, and I doubted he would have faced his issues before he was ready. But what struck me most was that he had friends, which I let slip out without thinking.
“He has friends?”
Maggie must have laughed for two minutes at my question. “Yes, Poppy. He does have friends, although they all knew him before. When he was a nice guy and not perpetually grouchy.”
I wondered what nice guy Ford would be like. It was hard to imagine given his only interactions with me had all involved him yelling at me.
After finishing our coffee, we spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through Maggie’s personal items - jewelry, photos and keepsakes. At her direction I sorted them into piles to either get rid of or box up for Ford in case he would want them in the future.
“What will Ford do when you’re gone? If you’re selling the house?” I asked Maggie. Now that I knew about his past, I could look past some of his behavior. I actually felt a little worried for him.
“I haven’t asked him yet. I doubt he has a plan that extends past tomorrow, but sometime soon I am going to sit him down and make him talk to me. When I go, I need to know that he will be okay. He doesn’t have to sell the house if he wants to stay here, but I think he won’t be able to get out of this town fast enough once I’m gone.”
It was always hard when one of my patients passed away, but I had a feeling this would be the hardest of all. No one had included me in their life quite like Maggie had. And no one had made me feel anything close to what Ford had - good and bad. It would be hard to say goodbye when the time came - to both of them.
By dinner time Maggie was tired, and I got her settled on the couch with a blanket and her favorite TV show while I fixed dinner. Looking through the cabinets I found the ingredients for vegetarian chili. Combining all the ingredients in a large pot on the stove, I let the chili simmer while I mixed up some homemade cornbread. My sorry excuse for a kitchen didn’t allow me to do any actual cooking, so this was kind of fun. I ate with Maggie in the family room, and we watched Wheel of Fortune
together. Maggie went to get ready for bed early while I cleaned up the kitchen.
It was only 8:00 pm and Maggie was already asleep. That gave me four hours to work on homework before Ford got home. I did get a lot of reading done and a few pages of my paper written, but my mind kept drifting to Ford.
Leaning my head back against the couch and closing my eyes, I tried to imagine what it would have been like for him to be a few short months from being drafted and then lose it all. It was like winning the lottery and having the ticket blow away in the wind on your way to claim the prize. What a huge let down.
The next thing I knew I was awakened by the front door shutting. I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost midnight. Feeling bad about falling asleep on the job, I quickly gathered up my stuff and wrapped my scarf around my neck. I slipped on my boots and put my bag over my shoulder just as Ford walked in. He looked like hell, and all I wanted to do was give him a hug. He didn’t seem like a hugger though, so I held back. His gaze met mine across the room, and his eyes were tired.
“There’s some chili in the fridge and cornbread on the counter, if you’re hungry,” I said quietly. He nodded but didn’t say anything as he walked towards the stairs. I watched as he walked and noticed the slight limp on his right side.
When I got in my car I took one last look at the house. Ford’s bedroom faced out to the front yard, and I could see him through the window sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. My heart ached for him, but I knew there was nothing I could do to help him. I considered it a gift to have the time to say goodbye to a loved one, but Ford obviously didn’t see it that way.
*****
Back in my apartment, in my pajamas with my hair braided over my shoulder, I plugged my phone in to the charger. It had died earlier in the day, and I never remembered to bring my charger with me anywhere. A couple of minutes later, when it was charged enough to receive a signal, my phone beeped with a voicemail. I was already in bed with the lights out, but I turned on the lamp beside my bed and crossed the room to my phone. It was probably just my mom or Brooke, the only two people who ever called me, but I couldn’t go to sleep without making sure it wasn’t something important.
The number of the missed call wasn’t one I recognized, although it did look vaguely familiar. The voice on the voicemail was the absolute last one I expected to hear. Well, actually the second to last. Ford would be the last.
“Hey, Poppy. It’s me, Aiden. Um…I know we haven’t talked in a while, but can you call me when you get this? It’s important. My number is 416-555-6389. Call me whenever you get this, no matter how late.”
What the hell? It was an understatement that we hadn’t talked in a while; it had been almost two years. Two years since I had found out Aiden had been cheating on me. Two years since I had given up on my naïve thought that a long distance relationship could work.
What could he possibly want from me after all this time? I couldn’t go to sleep now without finding out, so I dialed his number half expecting to get his voicemail. Instead he answered on the second ring.
“Hello?” His voice sounded strained and unlike I remembered.
“Hi, Aiden. It’s Poppy.”
“Oh my God, Poppy. Thank you for calling me back.”
“Uh…sure. Is everything okay? I was surprised to hear from you.”
I could hear him sigh on the other end of the line. “No, everything’s not okay.”
All sorts of awful scenarios started running through my mind. Did something happen to one of his parents? Did he want me back? Yuck, I hope not. Was he dying of some rare and horrible illness?
“I’m about to flunk out of Cornell, and I need your help. You’ve taken a philosophy class, right?”
Seriously? I held the phone out to look at it; then looked around the room for hidden cameras, because surely this was some kind of prank.
“So, let me get this straight, Aiden. You called me after not speaking for two years. The reason for us not speaking is that you cheated on me. And you want to know if I’ve taken a philosophy class?” Saying it out loud made it sound even more ridiculous.
“You’re the smartest person I know, Poppy. I need you to help me pass Philosophy,” he said in a voice that had me picturing him pouting.
Was I dreaming? Had I actually fallen asleep and this was some weird twisted dream? Unfotunately, no. Glancing at the clock I saw it was nearing 1:00 am, and I had to teach a yoga class in eight hours. Normally I only taught on the weekends, but I was filling in for another instructor tomorrow.
“Why don’t you ask someone there? Like someone who is actually in the class? It’s not really practical for me to tutor you from almost two hours away.”
“Well, see that’s the thing. I don’t need tutoring…I need a paper. It can be on anything really. We didn’t have to tell the professor what we were writing about, so whatever you’ve written about would work.”
Now he was just giving me a headache. “Whoa, hold on. You want me to give you a paper I wrote so you can pass it off as your own? You want me to help you cheat?”
My voice was raising by the second as I wondered how much of a pushover I must have been for him to think he could call me after two years and ask me to help him cheat so he didn’t flunk out of Cornell. That was my dream school, dammit!
“I’m really in trouble here, Poppy. If I don’t pass this class, I’m out. This semester was my last chance.”
My aversion to confrontation prevented me from telling him off like I should have, but I did have enough sense to hang up on him and turn my phone off. I wanted to throw it against the wall, but I couldn’t afford to replace it.
Getting back in bed, I fumed about Aiden. Sure, I had helped him a lot with homework in high school. He was my boyfriend. I felt like it was my duty. Maybe I had helped him too much. Maybe I had helped him all the way to Cornell.
I had been accepted too, but my mom and Rick couldn’t afford what my scholarships didn’t cover. So, I didn’t go. Aiden went on without me, but we stayed together and tried a long distance relationship.
It wasn’t until Christmas break of freshman year that I found out he had been cheating on me the entire fall semester. Out of sight, out of mind I guess. It was hard to get over, more for the humiliation factor than any actual heartbreak over losing Aiden. Clearly he was an asshole. But I felt like I should have known, or it was somehow my fault for falling for his load of crap.
This day was just getting worse, so I willed myself to sleep so I could start fresh tomorrow. I did fall asleep fairly quickly from sheer exhaustion, but when I awoke in the morning I could remember tossing and turning a lot in the night.
I brewed one cup of coffee and drank it while I got ready for my day. Yoga class was at 9:00 for an hour, and then I had a small break before I had to be at class at 11:30. Then my shift at Maggie’s at 2:00, assuming I wasn’t actually fired. Ford was madder than hell yesterday, but my relationship with Maggie was strong. I didn’t think she would allow him to fire me. Not that it would be any less awkward working at his house when it was clear he despised me. Oh, well. Grabbing my bag I locked up my apartment and trudged down the steps on the side of the garage.
I had to turn the ignition three times before my car started up. Dear God, please let my car not die yet. Finally it started, and I drove myself to the community center to get this day started. Hopefully it would be a better day than yesterday.
It couldn’t get much worse.
Chapter Four
Ford
I knew I was in trouble when I walked into the kitchen to mix up a protein shake before hitting the gym, and my mom was already awake and waiting for me at the kitchen table. She had already made my shake and pushed it across the table, motioning for me to join her. The look in her eyes let me know I was about to get an earful.
Yesterday when I found out that my mom had preplanned her funeral, finalized her will and made arrangements to put the house up for sale, all with Poppy’s help, I may hav
e overreacted. But, fuck! Why didn’t anyone tell me what was going on? I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to, but I deserved to know about this shit. And to be the one to help my mom, even if it did kill me to do it.
“Ford, you’re my son, and I love you. But I have never been as disappointed in you as I have been the last few weeks. The way you have treated Poppy is disgraceful. She is a lovely young woman, and she is just doing her job. In fact, she’s doing more than her job by helping me out with things I know I can’t count on you for.”
Ouch. To hear that I’m a disappointment and she can’t count on me really stung, but she didn’t stop there.
“You need to realize how your words and actions can affect other people. For the last three years I have let you wallow in your grief and self pity, but it’s time to stop. Life is going on around you, Ford, and you’re missing it.”
“What life, Ma? I work, and I work some more. That’s all there is for me here,” I grumbled.
“Not your life. The lives of the people who care about you, and that you’re supposed to care about in return. You’ve done a wonderful job taking care of me, but I won’t be around much longer. You need to start paying attention to what and who else is out there.”
I frowned at her, not at all following where she was going with this, other than to remind me she was dying.
“Did you know that Leah had a miscarriage last year before she got pregnant with Maddy?” She asked me.
“No,” I replied. Why hadn’t Josh, or Leah herself, mentioned it? I would have wanted to know that two of my closest friends were going through that. Granted I would have no idea what to do in a situation like that, but I would have expected to hear about it.
“Did you know that Grady’s father had a cancer scare last spring? Everything turned out fine, but did you know that?”
“No.”
“Do you know what Grady and Lindsay really went through several years ago?”
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