by Lexy Timms
I couldn’t stop tracing all the curves and edges that were meant to boast of its price.
I took a bite of my sandwich as I sat back in my chair, a genuine leather chair with a softness to it that made me want to go to sleep. It reminded me of the seats in Jimmy’s car that day we had gone to get lunch.
Maybe they were the same.
My phone on my desk rang, and I thought about ignoring it. After all, I was technically on my lunch break. But I figured a small phone call wouldn’t hurt anything, so I picked it up anyway.
I could leave a few minutes early if it was really that big of a deal.
“Ashley Ternbeau speaking. How may I help you?”
“Miss Ternbeau? It’s Mrs. Claire from the nursing home.”
“Alice?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Your mother’s taken a spill. She had a rough morning at breakfast, and the nurses struggled to get her back to her room. Long story short, she fell and broke her hip.”
“How the hell did my mother fall, Alice?”
“She had a lucid moment this morning at breakfast, but it quickly faded. Didn’t know where she was. Couldn't remember what she was eating. She got upset, and it was upsetting people in the dining hall, so a couple of the nurses tried to escort her back to her room.”
“She tried to run again,” I said breathlessly.
“She did. She’s at the hospital across the street. One of our nurses is with her. She’ll want to talk to you about where we go from here in treating your mother.”
“I figured. Okay. I’m leaving work now,” I said.
“Something wrong?”
I whipped my head up to see Ross standing at my door.
“Hey there. Um, I really sorry, but I have to go. My mother’s, uh ...”
“No need to say anymore. Where can we take you?” he asked.
“I have my car. I can drive.”
“Not with those shaking hands, you can’t. Let me escort you to the garage. One of our drivers will take you to the hospital,” he said.
Ross escorted me to the elevator and took me downstairs. A car drove right up to the elevator, and Ross opened my door for me. I thanked him profusely and got in and then told the driver where I needed to be.
And fifteen minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot.
“You can go if you need to,” I said.
“Nope. I’ll be sitting in a parking space in that first lot. Come on out whenever you’re ready,” the driver said.
“Thank you so much. Really. Thank you.”
I slammed out of the car and rushed into the hospital. Unfortunately, I’d become very accustomed to the layout of the place. I knew exactly where I needed to be and the quickest way to get there, and my legs carried me as quickly as I could go.
Two conversations and a spill of my own later, I was racing into my mother’s room. She was laid up in a hospital bed, her leg elevated and half her lower body in a cast. She looked over at me with tears in her eyes, and I felt my strong resolve crumble.
“I’m sorry, Ashley,” my mother said.
“Oh, Mom. You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said.
“I felt myself slipping that time. I-I felt my mind slowly dragging me back to that place.”
“You got scared, and you tried to get away. It’s a normal reaction to have,” I said.
“I’ll be laid up like this for weeks. Possibly months, with my condition.”
“Nonsense. We’ll get you back to walking in no time,” I said.
“My mind has been so terrible lately.”
“It comes with the territory, but we take it one day at a time. You and me. Like it’s always been.”
“But that isn’t how it should be anymore, Ashley. You’re in the prime of your life. You should be out dating and making friends and having drinks after work with your colleagues. You shouldn’t be running to hospitals and visiting your mother in a nursing home.”
“Stop that talk right now,” I said. “I won’t hear any more of it.”
“You need to hear it,” she said.
“What I do with my spare time is not your choice, Mom. You took care of me for years by yourself, shielded me from the pain of your own marriage and became my rock when Dad left. Now, it’s time for me to do the same. Not because I feel the need to repay you, but because you’re my mother. You’re family, and nothing’s more important than family.”
“You should be enjoying things,” she said.
“And I am. I got a dog the other day.”
“Your father would’ve hated that.”
“It brought me great pleasure to get something he would’ve hated,” I said with a grin.
“What kind of dog?”
“A beagle. He’s only twelve weeks old. He’s really cute. I think you’d like him.”
“Are those the ones with the floppy ears? I love floppy ears.”
“Then maybe you can come by sometime once I move and see him.”
“You’re moving?”
“I’m trying,” I said, giggling. “I haven’t heard back from the complex yet, but you would love it. It has a beautiful view that overlooks all of Miami.”
“It sounds beautiful, Ashley. Those are the kinds of things you should be enjoying.”
“And I am. All while making sure you’re okay and taken care of yourself.”
“Miss Ternbeau?”
I looked up and saw one of my mother’s nurses standing in the doorway.
“I’ll be right back, Mom. Okay?” I asked.
I turned my gaze to the nurse in the doorway as I headed out into the hallway.
“I don’t want my mother to hear this conversation,” I said.
“I figured. Look, the treatment regimen we have her on now, it’s not working. It’s not even keeping her lucid most of the time. We can try to switch tactics, but your mother’s in the final stages of Alzheimer’s.”
I felt tears rush to my eyes as I turned to look back at my mother. The pain medication they had her on was taking over, and I watched her eyes droop shut. Her breathing evened out, and the tension in her body left her. It was the most relaxed I’d seen her in weeks.
Months.
Possibly even years.
“What choices do we have?” I asked. “What can we do?”
“There’s another combination of drugs we can put her on for the more severe cases of Alzheimer’s. I would suggest different types of physical activity as well, but that’s been taken off the table. There are things we can do while she’s wheelchair-bound. Small three-pound hand weights and that sort of thing. And she’ll still get regular outside time in the sun, which will help a lot. But beyond that, it’s more about keeping her comfortable and taking the punches as they come.”
“We’re six years into this. From the reading I’ve done—”
“Ashley, I know you’re worried, and I know what the statistics are. We are reaching a point where modern medication won’t be able to help your mother, but we aren’t there yet. There are limited options, but they still exist.”
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
“Your signature to switch treatment.”
“Where’s the paperwork?”
I read through it, taking in every word on each page. I flipped quickly through them and committed the medications to memory, making sure I did my research on every single one of them. I trusted the care she was in, but I wanted the knowledge for myself. I wanted to make sure I could stand toe-to-toe with them in case something started going wrong.
Then I signed the papers, went in to kiss my mother, and left.
The drive back to work was long. I didn’t feel like working, but I knew I had to. Jimmy was scoring clients left and right, and there was a lot of things to field with paperwork and updating the investors.
I was so blinded by my own worry that I didn’t hear Ross calling out for me.
“Ashley? Ashley!”
“Hmm?” I asked.
�
�Didn’t expect you back so soon. How’s your mother doing?” Ross asked.
“She’s ... okay. For now. It’s pretty touch and go with her some days.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Not really. I need to get back to work. Jimmy’s creating a lot of headache for all of us.”
“That’s his job, unfortunately. And he takes it very seriously.”
“I can tell. But thank you for offering to talk. I appreciate it,” I said.
“You know where I am if you feel like talking later.”
“I do. Thanks, Ross.”
“Anytime, Ashley. Anytime.”
Chapter 25
Jimmy
“How’d last night go?” Ross asked.
I sighed at his question as I kept my face in my paperwork.
“Oh, come on, Jimmy. That was a sure thing.”
“Not as sure as you thought it was,” I said.
“What happened? How’d we lose him again? That’s not going to look good on us.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I asked.
I watched Ross’s eyes fall to my hand. Dancing over the ring I had on my finger. His brow ticked with confusion, and I avoided his gaze, unable to wrestle with whatever questions he was going to have for me.
“Do I even want to ask?”
“No, but you’re going to,” I said.
“Why the fuck are you wearing a wedding ring?” Ross asked. “What horrible mistake did you make?”
“I didn’t actually get married, Ross. You won’t believe me anyway, so there’s no point in having this conversation.”
“Why won’t I believe you?”
“Because you didn’t believe me the first time,” I said.
“Are you still on that commitment thing?”
“Yes, I’m still on that commitment thing. When I walked into that meeting, the first thing that asshole brought up was Nina.”
“What?” he asked. “You’re kidding me. Why the hell would he care about her?”
“Exactly. But that’s what you don’t understand because you don’t interface with the clients like I do anymore. In the world we just catapulted into, women are status symbols, things men need to prove they can commit in all facets of their life. Because being married to a woman binds her to all those facets.”
“You’re insane.”
“You think so, but the moment that man looked down at my hand and saw I didn’t have a wedding ring on my finger, he was out.”
“You saw him a week and a half ago! What did he expect you to do? Marry the woman in ten days?” he asked.
“No, but he did expect me to propose,” I said.
“He what?”
“Yep. Went on some haughty diatribe about how a massive argument led to him proposing to his now wife.”
“How the fuck did that even happen in a business meeting, Jimmy?”
“I’m still as shocked about it as you are. I had no idea how to get around it. He was determined to keep bringing it back around to Nina.”
“Maybe he wanted to fuck her himself,” he said.
“It was like I’d stepped into the twilight zone, but I knew it was going to happen. Men who bat at our levels have women they’ve committed to. It’s a fact. You think it’s an indirect correlation because that’s your analytical mind at work. But I’m the emotion behind this operation. I know how they think. I don’t calculate probabilities, I read their expressions and their body language. Men who don’t have women at their sides, or at least perceived women at home, don’t make it in this world.”
“Because women are status symbols.”
“Because being committed to a woman is a metaphor for being committed in all aspects of a man’s life,” I said. “I didn’t make the rules, but I sure as hell am going to play by them now. I can’t lose another client like that. I won’t.”
“Jimmy, this all seems a little—”
“Weird? Far-fetched? Awkward? Out of this world? All of this is, but I’m tired of dancing with this topic. I have the wedding ring to give the impression that I’m married so I look like a man of commitment so this company can succeed. Get behind it, or shut up about it.”
“And what happens when people start asking about this mystery wife?” he asked. “They’re all going to think you married Nina. Your breakup hasn’t gone public.”
“She’s probably in London with her lips around some guy’s cock who asked her out on a date,” I said. “This is something you’ll simply have to get used to. Just be glad I’m not making you get one.”
“Okay, we’ll revisit this later.”
I heaved a heavy sigh as I leaned back in my chair.
“You can sigh all you want, but this is all a little—”
“I don’t care what it is. I’m not talking about it anymore. As the owner and head of this company, I’ve made a decision for the better of it. Back it up or drop it, Ross.”
“Fine, but I figured I’d let you know I sent Ashley home for the day.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oh, so now you want to talk.”
“What the hell’s wrong with Ashley?”
“Settle down. No need to get hotheaded. Something happened with her mom this morning, and she had to go to the hospital.”
“Is her mother all right? Is Ashley okay?” I asked.
“I gave her the day off because she came back in but couldn’t concentrate. I thought you’d want to know in case you looked over and didn’t see her there.”
I panned my eyes over to the corner and saw her darkened office. It didn’t occur to me how close she was now. How easy it would be to access her if I needed her. I’d been here all day. How did I miss this?
“Thanks for letting me know,” I said.
“Yep. No problem. Dinner tonight?”
“You gonna rope me into a conversation about my imaginary wife?”
Ross grinned at me as I shook my head.
“No, thanks,” I said.
“You’re not fun.”
“Which is the kind of person you need in your life, Ross. Goodbye.”
I waited until he got back into his office before I picked up the phone. I flipped through my contacts on my computer until I came to all of Ashley’s information. I dialed her cell number and listened to the phone ring. Once. Twice. Three times.
I was about to hang up and forget about it until I heard that sweet little voice.
“Jimmy?”
“You have my number in your phone,” I said.
“Your office number, yes. I have Ross’s too. And the investors. Is everything okay? Do I need to come back?”
Well, so much for being special.
Why did I want to be special to her?
“Ross came in and told me something happened with your mother. Is everything all right?” I asked.
“I should get used to this, shouldn’t I?” Ashley asked.
“Used to what?”
“People now checking in on me.”
“Did they not do that before?” I asked.
“A lot of things didn’t happen in my life until I took this job with your company.”
“Well, then get used to it,” I said. “How’s your mother doing? Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“She’s okay. Sleeping. They have her on some pain medication.”
“Do you mind me asking what happened?”
“She took a fall in her nursing home. Broke her hip.”
“I’m so sorry. Who’s her doctor? There might be a better one I know who could fly in and take a look at her.”
“Um, that’s ... not necessary,” she said with a giggle. “But, um, thanks.”
“If you need days off to take care of her, we understand. We can get you a company laptop that remotes into your desktop so you can work no matter where you are.”
“That’s kind of you, but I won’t need any more time off,” she said. “Ross giving me today wasn’t necessa
ry. It’s just me in a room with my sleeping mother.”
“I’m sure she’s enjoying having you there.”
“When she knows who I am, yes.”
I furrowed my brow at the statement and went to ask about it. But Ashley barreled on through it before I could gather my thoughts.
“Anyway, thank you for calling,” she said. “That’s very kind of you. Tell Ross to stop worrying, though. I promise I’m okay.”
“I’ll let him know that. And Ashley?”
“Yeah?”
“If you need something, call me. I’m serious.”
“I will. I promise.”
I raked my hand through my hair as I leaned back in my chair. Flying a doctor in? What the hell was that about? It had just slipped out like I was no longer in control of my own damn mouth. And what was that comment she’d made about her mother? Was her mother sick? Did she have dementia or something? My heart sank for Ashley. I couldn’t imagine what that must be like if that was what was going on.
“Jimmy?”
“Yes?” I asked.
“Is there anything else?”
“Sorry. No. I didn’t know if you wanted to talk anymore about it,” I said.
“Not really,” she said. “It’s been an eventful day, and I want to sleep it off tonight and then get back to my routine.”
“Routines help ground me too,” I said.
“People always think I need to add more spice to my life. But spice makes me nervous. Things like this that pop up, they make me really nervous.”
“You know what helps me during those moments?”
“What’s that?”
“Chamomile tea.”
“What?” she asked, giggling.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I keep chamomile tea in my desk and at home always. It’s supposed to help people soothe themselves into sleep, but for people who are riled up with nerves, it helps calm them down.”
