Shannon's Hope

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “What can we do to get the financial aid stuff done?” John asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll talk to her about it.” Having one more thing added to my to-do list reminded me of how much other stuff was on it. I’d have suggested John help with that part if not for fear he’d look too closely at things.

  “That would be good,” John said, sitting down and taking off his shoes. He looked up at me and held my eyes. “Before you put more money into her school or anything, let’s talk about it, okay? It wasn’t that long ago that we didn’t have the cushion we have right now. I don’t want to blow through it.”

  “Of course,” I said, but mentally I was adding up all the money I’d spent on Keisha since she got here. We’d done some shopping—she hadn’t had much of a wardrobe when she got here, at least not an appropriate one—and she’d needed makeup and things. There was the money to Tagg, tuition, the school kits, and then the twenties I handed her here and there to cover little expenses and for gas money. All told, it added up to more than $5,000, which was a shocking number. John would freak if he knew I’d put that much toward helping her get on her feet, and yet every expense was justifiable, and most of it she would be paying back. Still, I needed to rein it in. I’d ensured she got started and now she was in school, so it was the perfect time for me to pull back and let her spread her wings. And hope that John never found out the dollar figure on this investment.

  Chapter 23

  Keisha received her kit at school the next morning, and things seemed to be going well for the next week, though I was surprised at how much she was working. She’d been offered some shifts at another Denny’s a few miles away—graves mostly—and though I worried she was taking on too much all at once, school and so many hours, I only had to remind myself of how much money she owed me to hand over my keys in the evenings and wish her well.

  I found myself anxious when she wasn’t home, though, or on the days I didn’t see her in between school and work. I’d text her during the day, and if I didn’t hear back from her, I’d call. She would usually text me back after that, and then I could calm down and go forward.

  Book group was on April 9, and though I’d told Aunt Ruby I’d try to make it, I was secretly pleased when the Long Beach store needed someone to work four to ten o’clock that night. Aunt Ruby was disappointed, but I hadn’t read the book and was still uncomfortable about my thoughts concerning Keisha and Ruby’s laptop—though I had convinced myself it was ridiculous—but mostly, I was just worn out.

  By the time I finished that Saturday night shift, I’d have clocked in sixty-two hours that week. Keisha had finished her second week of school, but I was still worried about her. She was working almost every day and sleeping whenever she was home. I couldn’t wait up for her at night, since I was working so much too, but I’d gotten into the habit of checking on her if I woke up in the middle of the night. Sometimes she was there, but sometimes she wasn’t—though she was always there by the time John and I got up the next morning.

  I’d asked her about her schedule but could tell she was frustrated by my questions. She’d only paid me back $150 since school started, even though she was working more than ever.

  I told myself she was saving it up to pay off a bigger chunk all at once, but in my heart of hearts I wasn’t sure I believed that. She hadn’t shown great ability to handle stress in the past, but as long as she was going to school—I dropped her off most mornings—and working hard, it was difficult to justify making too big a deal about my concerns. The fact was that this was real life; you had to work hard all the time to make ends meet. It was a tough lesson to learn, but everyone had to figure it out sooner or later. At least she had a stable home and a family to support her through it. That was a gift, even if she didn’t recognize it.

  I glanced at the pharmacy clock Saturday night and then turned my attention back to the three prescriptions I’d just filled. I was totally working out of order, but I was the only one on staff until the night pharmacist arrived in fifteen minutes, so no one would care that I was working in batches instead of one at a time. Honestly, I was running on fumes, and it was all I could do to finish out the day. Thank goodness it wasn’t busy tonight. The twenty-four–hour clinic down the street kept us busy around-the-clock on most weekends, but they must be pretty quiet tonight.

  I paused to make a note to the day-shift pharmacist to order more promethazine DM cough syrup before closing tomorrow; we were at half our usual stock. They’d want to make sure there was an order put in by the end of the shift tomorrow since it was cough and flu season.

  I turned back to the computer but glanced up when I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. But it wasn’t just a random customer, and I felt myself smile at unexpectedly seeing a friend instead.

  “Tori,” I said from back behind the second counter where the meds were counted and filled. She must have just come from book group, which meant she’d talked to Ruby. Gosh, did Ruby suspect Keisha and say something about it? “What are you doing here?”

  She smiled, but there was a hesitation to it, a reticence to be up front with why she was here, which made me even more cautious. Still, I kept my smile in place and made sure none of my thoughts showed on my face.

  “I was planning on giving you grief for no-showing tonight at book club. When I got there, I hoped you were late too so I wouldn’t have to be the only miscreant in the group.” The playful tone in her voice surprised me. Maybe this visit was purely social.

  I teased her about being late while I finished updating the final patient record, trying to center myself so I could be more focused on our conversation. I made a final keystroke, closed the program, and came around to the front counter while asking how book group had been. I felt bad for not reading the book—she’d chosen it this month—but I could be polite about the first twenty pages if I had to.

  “We had donuts for dessert,” she said, shaking a paper bag at me. I was as relieved not to have to talk about the book as I was excited to eat something completely horrible for me. Maybe it would give me an excuse to run in the morning. I needed a run in the worst way.

  “Any chance there’s a cruller in there?” A cruller would be worth five miles, easy. I heard the front door open and looked up in time to smile at Michelle, the night pharmacist. She stopped to chat with one of the clerks, and I turned my attention back to Tori and her bag of donuts.

  “Are you kidding? Any self-respecting purchaser of baked goods would get plenty of crullers. Can you eat back there, or will you get in trouble?”

  “I’m actually about to turn things over to another pharmacist. Give me a few minutes to get things squared away, and I’ll meet you out here.”

  “Sure thing,” Tori said, smiling at Michelle as she came to the counter.

  I signed out of the computer, hung the refills I’d finished on the rack out front, and gave Michelle the shift report. With a little luck the night would stay quiet and she’d be able to complete the inventory and update the files before the day shift came in.

  Tori was sitting at the blood pressure machine when I came out from behind the counter. I had to smile. People couldn’t resist a free medical test.

  “Having fun?” I asked when she didn’t notice I’d arrived.

  She pulled her arm out of the cuff. “Sorry. Just . . . you know.” She waved at the machine and shrugged.

  I waved it off with a smile. “It’s the most popular seat in the store. So, what’s up?”

  “Uh . . .” She looked around then down at the bag in her hand. If she were just bringing me a donut, she could leave now, which meant there must be something else. I wasn’t nearly as reluctant to hear it now as I had been before—probably because there were baked goods involved.

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting the bag. I could sense she was a bit anxious about being here; maybe if we had a task to complete, we would both be more comfortable. “I need to pick up a few things. Want to tag along with me?”

  “Tha
t would be great,” Tori said, sounding relieved.

  I reached in the bag while we headed to the front of the store for a cart—I was suddenly starving. The confection melted in my mouth, and I swear it filled me with sunshine. I was in desperate need of some sunshine.

  “So . . . how was book group?” I asked when I finished chewing. I couldn’t not bring up the book group I wasn’t at—it was the reason Tori and I even knew one another.

  “It was fine,” Tori said, looking a little nervous. “Ruby doesn’t know I’m here. But she’s the reason I came.”

  I could feel my chest tightening in anticipation. “Oh yeah?” I tugged a grocery cart out of where it was nested with the others. I prepared how best to handle this if what Tori said was about Keisha.

  “Well, kind of. And Ilana.”

  “Ilana?” I said, leaning forward to take a bottle of nail polish remover off the shelf and hoping the movement covered my surprise and relief.

  Tori took a breath before she explained. “Ilana was acting strange tonight. I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it, except that when she went to the bathroom, she didn’t use the main one—she went upstairs, I could see her from where I was sitting. She was gone for a while and when she came back, she seemed different. Calm.”

  I’d stopped shopping at this point and was leaning on my cart, visualizing the scene Tori was setting for me. She continued, “After a bit, I excused myself as well and went upstairs; I guess Ruby’s room is up there.”

  I nodded, even though I knew Ruby didn’t sleep in the master bedroom because she didn’t like to climb the stairs all the time. But Tori didn’t need to know that.

  “The light in the master bathroom was on,” Tori continued, “and when I looked around to try to figure out why Ilana would have come up there, I found this on the floor. I thought maybe you could identify it for me.” She opened her hand so I could see the small white pill with 512 stamped on one side.

  “Mallincrodt oxycodone,” I said automatically. I’d used the specific generic name most Medicare users—Ruby included—would get in place of the brand name. “Percocet,” I amended.

  Tori stared at the pill in her hand and took a breath before looking up at me. “It’s possible that Ruby just left the cabinet open and dropped this pill, right? It’s possible that it wasn’t Ilana who dropped it at all.”

  “Possible . . .” I said, taking the pill from Tori and turning it over in my hand. “But Ruby never takes anything that isn’t absolutely necessary.” And she didn’t use that bathroom. And the last time she’d filled a script for Percocet was about a year ago, after having some dental work done.

  “Maybe Ilana has her own prescription,” Tori said, sounding desperate for an explanation. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “But why use Aunt Ruby’s private bathroom for that? And a private bathroom on a different floor than the guest bath,” I said, switching into devil’s advocate for a minute.

  Tori let out a breath. “Right. She just seems too classy for this sort of thing. Ilana isn’t the type.”

  “Everybody is the type. I’ve seen some really fabulous doctors and other pharmacists destroy their lives and families because they thought they weren’t the type.” I said the words automatically; I talked about prescription drug addiction and abuse all the time, and yet, in the wake of what had been happening with Keisha lately, the words hit home in a different way.

  “What should we do?”

  Such a question. “The first step is trying to make sure we’re right about this. If we’re not, it could be devastating to confront her about it.”

  “Okay,” Tori said, nodding. “Good point. How can we find out?”

  I shrugged. “Spend time with her, ask her how things are going since her surgery.”

  Tori was thoughtful for a few moments. “I need to get a birthday gift for my mom. Maybe I could invite Ilana to go shopping with me.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said. “Do you mind letting me know how it goes? Maybe I could invite her to lunch or something.” When was the last time I had “lunch” with anyone? I barely knew Ilana, hadn’t ever even had a one-on-one conversation with her. But I could see how plausible Tori’s concerns were. If Ilana was already struggling with family planning, got injured, lost her job, and found that pain meds made all the pain, sadness, stress, and worry go away for a little while . . . who wouldn’t want the pain to disappear? But stealing meds was a sign that things were out of control.

  “Do you think we should talk to Ruby?” Tori asked, then smiled slightly. “And by ‘we’ I mean you.”

  I smiled back but felt frozen by the thought. There was so much between Aunt Ruby and me right now, even if Ruby didn’t know all of it. But I couldn’t say no to Tori, not without admitting what was going on. “Sure,” I said.

  Tori reached over and gave me a quick hug that I feared I returned rather awkwardly. Gosh, I missed having friends.

  Tori pulled back. “Thank you so much. I knew you would be the right person to talk to. I’ll let you know how things go. Can I get your cell number?”

  We traded cell phone numbers, and she hugged me again before she left. When was the last time I’d had a girlfriend?

  I drove home feeling depressed and a little overwhelmed by Ilana’s situation. I hoped Tori was wrong about the pills, that Ruby had had a toothache and had dropped the pill herself, but I knew that wasn’t likely. Maybe I could talk to Aunt Ruby. Maybe if I opened up some other discussions, I could feel more comfortable with her again.

  At a stoplight I texted Keisha and asked her how she was doing—she was working late tonight but was getting a ride home. I wasn’t sure which Denny’s she was at or I might have stopped by to say hi. She texted back almost immediately; I must have caught her while she was on break. I read it at the next intersection.

  Keisha: I’m great! Love you.

  I smiled to myself as I put the phone away and noted how much better I felt with such a positive answer. She hadn’t said she was okay or good—she was great! I wished Ilana the best and hoped Tori would be able to help, if help was needed, but I didn’t have room to put myself into that situation. Family would always be more important than friends. I was doing what I could to hold mine together, and I couldn’t afford to lose my focus now.

  Chapter 24

  John was still up when I got home, which surprised me since it was after eleven and he rarely stayed up that late.

  “Hey,” I said, hanging up my purse and keys as I entered the kitchen. As I moved toward him, I could see that the expression on his face was tight, checked. I slowed down.

  He got right to the point. “I talked to Stan about that cruise, and his wife found some good deals for us, so I went online to transfer some money into our checking account in order to put down a deposit.”

  I held my breath, but inside I started to panic.

  “Did you pay Keisha’s tuition?”

  It was ridiculous to be relieved, but I was. He wasn’t asking about my payoff to Tagg.

  “And withdraw $1,600 in cash a few days before that?”

  Oh no.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Uh,” I said, pausing to clear my throat, which meant I could go to the cupboard and get a glass so I could get a drink—all in order to stall a little longer. I felt John watching me every step of the way as I filled the glass and drank half of it. He didn’t say a word, just looked at me. Watching me. Waiting.

  Finally, nearly a minute after he’d asked me the question, I put the glass in the sink and looked up at him. “She just didn’t have the money for the tuition, John, but she had to start school, she had to start working on her future. She’s going to pay me back.”

  “And the cash?”

  “Uh,” I searched my mind for an answer, knowing there was no way I could tell him the truth about that money—not when things were so confrontational. Wait, the school kit was fifteen hundred dollars. Close enough. “The school kit,” I said qui
ckly, instantly relieved to have an excuse.

  “The school kit,” he repeated, but he cocked his head to the side and continued to stare at me. There was something wrong with that look.

  I nodded but held my breath.

  “I checked out the credit card balance while I was online. The school kit was charged to our credit card after she started school—you told me about it right after you ordered it. The cash was taken out weeks before school even started.”

  A heat wave washed over me, and I stared into the sink as my ears started ringing. This couldn’t be happening, and yet I’d known it was inevitable. I didn’t lie often enough to do it well.

  “The cash was taken out in the middle of the day,” John said, the anger finally emerging in his voice. “You would have been at work, and you never take cash out.”

  I lifted my eyes to meet his. Where was this going?

  “Did Keisha steal your debit card?”

  “What?”

  “And you’re covering for her? What the heck is going on, Shannon? Why would you do that?”

  I was completely trapped and stuttered over my words. “I . . . I . . . ”

  “She’s gone, Shannon,” John said, standing up from the barstool. “I’m not going to put up with this.”

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” Had he kicked her out already? Without even telling me?

  “I mean that we made that contract for a reason, and she broke it and you covered for her. I’m going to wait up for her tonight and then she’s got three days, just like we agreed.”

  I ran around the counter, relieved he hadn’t kicked her out already but overwhelmed by what he was saying. “We can’t do that, John, not now. She’s in school; she’s working hard.”

  “She’s a thief!” John shouted and pointed his finger in my face. “And you’re protecting her.”

  “She’s not a thief,” I said, though I instantly remembered Aunt Ruby’s laptop. I pushed the thought away. “I took that money out of the account.”