by Alexa Davis
“Hi, handsome.” Terri smiled at me, making my heart sink as she slid down in the chair next to me. “Why haven’t you messaged me in a while? I’ve weirdly missed you.”
God, she was actually heading right in there and addressing the issue. The wasn't something that she’d ever done before... But then again, it probably hadn’t ever been that long in the past. My heart raced painfully in my chest, and my mouth ran dry with fear. I wasn't ready to dive into that.
“I’ve just been busy,” I replied evasively, but she wasn't about to let this slide; she wasn't letting go.
“But you’re always busy.” The smile was falling from her face; she was slowly starting to get annoyed, I could tell. “You usually manage to find time for me, even if it’s during working hours. What’s going on?”
I sighed deeply, hanging my head a little before speaking out once more. “Look, I’ve just been going through a challenging time,” I told her. “I just... I need some time, okay?”
Terri didn’t answer me, but fury shone behind her eyes as she stood up and stormed from the room, leaving me alone. I felt certain that would have terrible, negative consequences for me, but in that second, I just felt relieved to have her gone. She was a great girl, and I was sure she would make someone a wonderful wife one day, but that was never going to be me. I thought I’d made that incredibly clear to her, but clearly, I was wrong.
Almost within the next second, Peggy walked into the room, and I sucked in a deep breath of air. She was here, Ashlee would be with her, too, and my biggest fear was about to be faced.
But no one followed her. My heart was stopped dead in my chest for no apparent reason because she hadn’t even shown up. What the hell? Did she still hate me so much that she couldn't even face me now? What had happened during the last ten years? Hadn’t we grown up at all? Were we still in the past where we wouldn’t talk about our problems and simply ignored one another, instead?
“You alone?” I couldn't help but ask. “No Ashlee today?” I feared that her mom might have heard about the other night and that I might get a serious ear bashing for that. I would take it, though, just to find out what the hell was going on – even if it did make me look incredibly unprofessional. Peggy liked me, though, she always had, and I hoped she would realize just how much history Ashlee and I had.
“Oh, she’s at a job interview,” she told me a little despondently. “I think she thought it would be easy to come here and simply walk into another speech therapist job, but of course, it isn’t that easy. It’s quite a specialized position, and although they’re needed like crazy in New York, it’s much less of a thing here.”
“Yeah, right,” I drawled out slowly, unsure of how much of that was the truth. Maybe she did need a job, or maybe she just couldn't stand to face me again. Either way, I felt shitty about it. I wished that there was something I could do to help. “Okay, well, we need to discuss what you’ve decided with regards to treatment.”
“I’m going to stop you there,” Peggy said, resting her hand lightly on mine. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I know you really want to help, but the treatment isn’t anything that I can afford. I know you do things in a much more affordable way than other doctors, which is great for the medication, but that isn’t the only reason I moved back here.”
“What?” I gulped down that painful ball of emotion. If Peggy was refusing treatment, then this would only go one way. I couldn't bear to think about that. How the hell would Ashlee cope without her? “Why did you move back, then?”
“The house is the only inheritance I have, the only thing I can give to Ashlee when...if things take a turn for the worse, and it needs a lot of work. I would rather use my money to fix the roof to give Ashlee a chance. She can either live there herself, or sell it to get somewhere of her own.
“I just can’t leave her with nothing. She’s worked hard her entire life, but she’s still behind with bills. She thinks I don't know about it, but I do. I just... I need to do something nice for her. You know more than most what a hard time she’s been through when she was younger. I mean, I didn’t even want her to come home, but she simply insisted on it when she heard that I was sick, and I hadn't even told her then how bad things were!”
I nodded slowly, feeling a cold sensation flooding through me. I did know, even more so since I’d lost my own parents, and I hadn’t ever done anything to help her. Maybe this would be my second chance at making a difference in her life; maybe there was something I could do.
“Okay, well, do you mind if I have a look into what we can do? See if there’s anything slightly more affordable? I just... I don't like to see you giving up so easily.” I’d never seen Peggy so resigned to something before, and it broke my damn heart. If this was hitting me so hard, then I dreaded to think about what it would be doing to Ashlee.
“I’m not giving up,” she insisted, smiling at me. “I’m making a choice. This is what I want to do now.” I stared at her, trying to see right through her, but she wasn't backing down. This really did seem to be what she wanted.
“Ashlee has been the only person I’ve had since I lost my husband, and I feel like I’ve done everything that I can for her now. She doesn’t need me anymore, she’s a grown up who can look after herself; she’s been proving that for the last decade in New York.”
“She’ll always need you,” I replied sadly. “But I understand.”
“By all means, look,” she told me kindly. “But I think that my mind is made up.”
I didn’t want to ask her if Ashlee knew about her decision because I wasn't sure my heart could take it, so I simply nodded stiffly and worked around to saying my goodbye.
As soon as she had walked from the office, I turned to Terri with a smile on my face. During our conversation, an idea filled my mind, a way I could help even a little bit, and I couldn't wait to get the ball rolling with that. “Can you put out an advertisement online?” I asked her. “We need a speech therapist to start working here, and I need the post to go up today.”
“Can we afford that?” she asked suspiciously. “Is that something we need around here?”
“This is my business, and I’m telling you that this is what we need,” I told her firmly, not wanting to hear her very logical arguments. Of course, I couldn't really afford it, and sure a speech therapist wasn't essential considering we weren’t any kind of specialist practice, but I needed to help somehow, and this was the best way I could think of to do that. “Just get the job post up, please. Thank you.”
Now there would be a choice for Ashlee, if her other applications didn’t work out. If she got hired somewhere else, I could always say that I’d changed my mind before we interviewed anyone else, not that I felt like there would be hundreds of people qualified to be a speech therapist in Florence.
*****
My conversation with Peggy was still spinning through my mind as I drove home later that evening. I was trying desperately to think of some kind of solution for her, something that she might agree to, and in all honesty, I was struggling. I wanted to offer to pay for the treatment for her, but I had the feeling that would go down like a lead balloon.
I pulled up to the nearest gas station to fill up my car, distractedly wondering how I was going to solve all the issues that faced me. How could I make things clear to Terri, sort things out with Ashlee, and save Peggy’s life all at once? None of them were simple problems, ones that I could tackle quite easily, which made it even worse. There wasn't even one I could take on first, knowing it would be done quickly.
“Hello there, Doctor Turner,” the guy behind the cash desk grinned at me. “How are you today?”
I’d known this guy for a very long time, for years in fact, but in typical Florence fashion, I wasn't exactly sure of his name. We’d met, started talking, and it quickly became too awkward for me to ask. He knew my name because he’d heard someone talking to me at one point, but I didn’t think I would ever find out his.
“I�
�m good, thank you. Busy as always; how about you?”
“Oh, you know,” he said evasively. “Same as always. Work, pub, sleep.”
As we both laughed at that, my eyes drifted slowly over towards the display for the lottery tickets, seeing that it was the biggest jackpot ever. “One billion dollars, huh?” I asked in shock. “Is that for real?”
“Sure is! It’s been a crazy amount of rollovers, so you should buy your ticket. I’ve got mine.”
I considered it for a second, remembering my previous conversation with Mr. Smith. Sure, it might have been a very slim chance I would win. I’d probably get hit by lightning first. But someone had to win, so I might as well give it a shot. If I won, that would at least help with some of my problems. It’d get my finances under control, at the very least.
“Go on then, I suppose I better get one.” I smiled happily, just for a second imagining all my debts paid off. How amazing would that be? Plus, then I could do something to help out Peggy and Ashlee, too. I could either finance her treatment, or get her damn house fixed up, just something to make her life a little better. “You never know, right?”
“Exactly!” he grinned excitedly. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if it was someone here that won, someone in Florence? That would be incredible.”
“Sure would. See ya.”
With that, I tucked the ticket away in my back pocket, where I immediately forgot about it. Winning wasn't likely at all, whereas my other problems needed my attention. I had to focus on them instead to try and find some kind of solution.
Chapter Fourteen
Ashlee
Friday
“Urgh,” I sighed deeply to myself as I finally made it back home after a horrible interview. I don't know why I sucked so hard, speaking to people running a practice in the mall, but I couldn't seem to hold my shit together. I stuttered, undermined my own achievements, and made myself look stupid more than once.
I knew that I hadn’t gotten the job, and while I was pissed off with myself, I was kind of glad, too. An assistant position was far below my skill set, which of course meant that it paid a lot less. Although it would have been something, it wouldn’t have helped too much. I didn’t feel like it would have put a dent in what I needed.
The worst thing about it was that was all I had. If I didn’t get something soon, I would end up flipping burgers or something; then, I wouldn’t be in any decent position to help Mom at all. Why the hell didn’t I save more money in New York? I knew that I couldn't because living expenses were so high there, but it didn’t feel good. I felt like I’d made a whole range of mistakes I couldn't take back now.
I half expected Mom to race excitedly to the door, begging to know how I’d done, but she didn’t. For a split second, I was relieved that I didn’t have to explain myself to her when I really wasn't in the mood, but then I instantly became worried. This wasn't like her at all; where the hell was she?
“Mom?” I called out loudly, walking a little nervously through the house. “You there?”
It was still strange to me to walk through the halls, seeing a different place. I kept expecting to find the old wallpaper up on the walls, and the same photographs hanging in the place where they’d always been. I found the new carpets strange, too... And that wasn't even getting to the inclusion of all my adult, New York stuff being there.
I’d tried to put it all in storage, but Mom really insisted that I didn’t, and I hadn’t wanted to upset her at the time. The only problem was the more I looked around, the clearer it became that it was more my stuff than hers, which made me feel weird.
I didn’t like to think that she’d just accepted that she was going to die because I didn’t want her to give up, but the evidence continued to point in that direction, regardless.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Up here,” she eventually called, filling me with relief. “I’m in the bathroom.”
She sounded sick, which worried me, but she’d done a lot to reassure me that things had been good at the doctor’s, so I had to believe that.
I hadn’t wanted to go, to face Matthew after everything, so I had lied and told her I had a job interview to go to, but now I regretted that. I felt out of the loop, like I didn’t know anything. I should have pushed my own pride to one side for Mom’s sake. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
“Are you okay?” I asked again as I got back to her side, clearly seeing that she wasn't. She was pale, green, sickly, and hanging over the toilet. “Oh my God, what’s happened? Do you need me to call someone?”
“No, no,” she begged weakly. “I’m fine... I think I just need to get some rest.”
She held her hand out to me, and I took it quickly before tucking myself under her armpit and lifting her upright. She was far too light, but I had to do my best to look past that. I couldn't make judgments when I was so badly needed.
“I’ll be all right in a minute,” she weakly promised me. “I just need a little sleep.”
As soon as I got her into the bedroom, I tugged her top up over her head to try and get her into something more comfortable, and in the next instant, I felt a cold, painful bolt of shock racing right through me. She was thin...really thin. I could see every single one of her bones poking through her body and it made me feel dizzy and sick.
This was bad, it was really bad, and it left me totally heartbroken.
Was Mom going to die? Was this cancer going to kill her? I mean, I knew that I’d thought about it in a hypothetical way to attempt to prepare myself for it, but now it was hitting me like a massive thump in the face. Now I was starting to really understand that I might be left alone, after all.
“I’ll see you in a while,” I smiled weakly at her before lying her in the bed. I pressed my lips lightly up against her forehead as a stray tear fell from my eyes. “You just get some sleep; I’ll come and wake you up in a bit.”
As I moved seamlessly into the next room, the tears gave up trying to stay inside and they simply streamed down my face. I felt muddy, raw, and numb all at once. This was a real struggle, and it was only going to get worse; it was time to accept that.
When I’d moved back from New York, I’d expected things to be difficult, but I hadn’t expected it to be the time I lost my mother. I thought she would be sick, that I would help her back to good health, and that would be the end of it.
Little did I know...
I slumped my head back, falling deeper into the couch as the emotions flooded through me. I felt like I was bursting at the seams, slowly falling apart, and I didn’t know what to do.
“I wish you were here, Dad,” I muttered to myself, desperation clawing at me. “You would know what to do right about now.”
I spotted the picture of him sitting on the mantle, the one that would always be there no matter what, the constant in an ever-changing home. I stood up to grab it, needing to hold it closer to me.
I studied his face intently, seeing a lot of myself within him; we had the same shape of eyes, and very similar cheekbones, and we shared the same smile. We were similar enough to have a lot in common, and different enough to not fall out too much. He really was the perfect dad, and I wished that he’d been around to see me grow up. I wanted him to know the person that I’d become, because I felt a lot of that was to do with him.
The best part about my dad was that he’d always known what to do in any kind of a crisis. Not only did he always have the right answers to any kind of problems I faced, he always managed to lighten the mood, too. He knew just how to make me laugh, even when it felt like the world was piling on top of me, and that was exactly what I needed.
I tried to imagine what he would say to me in that moment, and I knew it would be some very inspiring message about staying strong for Mom because she needed me. That was exactly what I needed to do; it just wasn't as straightforward as it probably should have been.
It didn’t help that I was convinced Mom wasn't being totally honest with me. I had a feeling that she knew
more about her condition than she was letting on, that she’d had some bad news at the appointment I missed and didn’t intend to tell me.
She hadn’t even decided on what treatment method she wanted to use yet, which was driving me crazy. Until she made that final choice, we couldn't move forward, and we both knew every moment counted. Each second was important, and I wished she could understand that much.
I had the horrible, gnawing sensation that money was the issue.
“Right,” I muttered to myself, standing up with a newfound determination coursing through me. If it was money she needed, then I would do my best to sort that out for her. I would get back online, back into the grind of the job hunt, however depressing it was, until I got it sorted. I needed to get a job now – any job – and I couldn't stop until I had that goal achieved.
“I’ll do it, Dad,” I told his picture as I set it back down. “I’ll be strong, I promise you that much.”
I logged on quickly and typed in all the same information as I had done the day before, expecting to see all the same job posts, but much to my surprise, I saw a brand-new posting, one that seemed too good to be true.
“Speech therapist,” I whispered to myself in shock. “Seriously?”
I clicked on the post, needing to know more, needing to find out what the downside to this was going to be, but I couldn't instantly see one. It wouldn’t be too different to what I was doing in New York, plus the pay was pretty good, too. I had to pinch myself to check that I wasn't dreaming.
But then my eyes fell on something else: the location of the job.
“Are you fucking serious?” There it was: the issue. The fact that the job would be in Matthew’s office would be killer, so much so that I almost logged off completely, totally disregarding it.
But then my eyes found their way back over to Mom’s bedroom and I quickly realized that I didn’t have much choice. I was going to have to do this; I really didn’t have any other choice. As much as it killed me, I emailed off my resume with aggravation spiking through my veins.
