OFF YOUR BACK LIKE DUCK'S WATER
CHAPTER ONE
Gail slumped into one of the deep wicker armchairs on the back portion of her new wrap around deck. The ranch style house had originally belonged to her paternal grandparents, was the home her father grew up in and as the only surviving member of the Morgan family the property had been left to her. It was situated in one of the nicer areas of a small town, barely a blip on the map it would seem, but word on the street dictated Charming to be more than what met the eye.
She rolled her eyes. She had more to focus on at the moment than small town conspiracy's and politics. She lifted what she knew was definitely the largest wine glass in her arsenal from the matching wicker out door table and took a deep pull of the rich, red liquid. She had never really been a fan of red wine. At least not until she made it through moving day and discovered the house warming gift from her grandfathers lawyer was the only booze in the house.
Her grandfather had been more of a whiskey kind of man but had downed every last drop in the house the minute he realized his days were just that.
She was enjoying the peace that had seemed to settle over the house from the moment the removalist van departed before being suddenly startled back to attention. Gail rolled her eyes as the home telephone chirped unpleasantly. She mentally added changing the ringtone to her list of shit to get in order.
By the time she replaced her glass on the table and stood up the noise had ceased, leaving an unconvincing replica of her former serenity in its place. There was no way she could act as careless as she was feeling when her gut was telling her exactly who had been on the other end of that phone line.
Deciding to backtrack for her wine and to take the long way around the entire porch to the front door before retrieving the phone, Gail conceded that yeah, maybe expecting the house to still be fully stocked was a little far fetched considering the will had been executed nearly two years before hand.
With a budding career as a pathologist, it had seemed redundant to move cross-country before she had made the connections necessary to make that type of move viable. She had managed to make it to Charming in time to spend the last couple of days of her grand papa's life by his bedside, even sharing a smoke or two when he requested it, but beyond attending the prearranged funeral and reading of the will, she'd had no plans to stay there permanently.
But the last two years had been very good to her. So good as to be able to pull the appropriate strings in order to secure a position at St Thomas and participate in a small research project they were conducting.
Gail took a deep gulp from her glass once more. She wouldn't have even needed to make the move if it wasn't for the same person who, if she was a betting woman, she would bargain with her career was responsible for disturbing her minutes ago.
She increased her pace and pushed past the wooden doors. She had mounted a cordless wall phone by the door as the removalist's organized her living room furniture earlier that morning for this reason specifically.
Perching herself against the cream coloured plaster, Gail mouthed the numbers as she counted down the seconds until the rehabilitation clinic called once more. Ten… nine… eight. A sip of wine. Six… five… four… three… two…
"One," she breathed out, just as the same harsh shriek broke the silence once more. She let it trill for a few more seconds before picking it up to answer on the last ring. "Hello?"
"Good afternoon, am I speaking with Abbey Morgan?"
The poor woman sounded just as reluctant and exasperated as Gail was feeling and felt a pang of sympathy for the poor soul who had somehow become entangled in the webbed mess her good for nothing half sister called life.
"Actually, its Gail-"
"Oh dear!" it was the first time she heard some semblance of honest emotion. "I must have the wrong number written here, I'm so sorry to bother you-"
"No, no," she quickly interrupted. "My name is Abigail. From the nickname I'm assuming this call is regarding Wendy Case."
"A Wendy Teller, actually ma'am. It says in her file that you are her emergency contact."
Of course it was an emergency. Gail had learnt during the brief years she spent living with her mother and two half sisters that anything to do with Wendy Case was always an emergency or too important to wait. Their mother had seen fit to indulge in this belief, a fact that Gail still faulted for the way her sister ultimately turned out.
"Why would she list me as her first contact?" she mused to herself, forgetting her audience briefly. She was swiftly reminded when the nurse awkwardly cleared her throat.
"Ma'am, my name is Anna and I'm calling from St. Thomas. If its not too much trouble we need you to come down straight away so we can confirm your identity before we ask you any questions regarding your sisters welfare. If you could bring a drivers license or passport it would be greatly appreciated-"
"St. Thomas? I thought you were calling from Oak Hill?"
"No, ma'am. St. Thomas General Hospital. Please, ma'am, time is crucial. Your nephew's life is at risk-"
Gail blocked the frantic woman's voice from her head the minute she mentioned her nephew. But that seemed the very core of the problem. She didn't have any nephew's. Only two nieces on her other half sister Brynne's side.
"Ma'am!"
"Sorry!" she tried to sound sincere, she really did but how could she? Gail was nothing if not confused and now the hands of a little boy she wasn't entirely convinced existed now rested in her hands? It really wasn't below Wendy to fake a pregnancy or child in order to get her own way. She had already done it before when they were still in high school. "I'm on my way."
"Thank you," the relief in her voice was palpable. "Come to the emergency ward and identify yourself at the triage desk. All the nurses have been informed to check identification and let you straight through to the doctor and your sister. See you shortly."
The woman promptly hung up. Clearly she didn't want to leave any room for Gail to refuse. In hindsight it was probably a wise move on her part.
Securing the cordless phone back into the mounted cradle, Gail reached for the temporary Chinese container she had placed on the narrow table shoved up against the wall. She had tossed three different sets of keys into the slightly cloudy plastic; her personal keys, her work keys, her out of state keys.
She fished around briefly before pulling out the pair with a dirty Pikachu key ring. It was old, missing an ear and part of its tail. The sheer girth of the tiny anime creature was testament enough to just how old it really was. With the largest metal loop trapped around her index finger and the bulk tucked into her palm, she spun on her converse clad heel to face the front door.
Seemingly out of the blue, she lurched suddenly to the side and quickly braced herself against the cream painted drywall. Whether it was the frustration, the adrenaline, the wine or even a healthy combination of the three she wasn't really certain. What she did know, however, was that there was no way she was risking the almost perfect condition of her SUV by trying to drive in her state.
But at the same time, a small sense of panic was nagging at her conscience. Despite how much she loathed the selfish bitch her sister had become, she was still her sister and she knew she couldn't live with herself should anything happen because she had decided to sit around and twiddle her thumbs while she waited for Charming's only taxi service to send its latest pensioner looking to make an easy buck.
There was also the possibility that she had a nephew whose wellbeing legitimately rested in her key holding hands. If she wouldn't be able to live with herself if anything happened to Wendy, how would she deal with being responsible for the ill health of an innocent child?
With her mind newly made up, she pushed away from the wall and pushed her way through the front door, not really caring but feeling slightly better when she heard the heavy door slam shut, the faint click indicating the dead bolt sliding into place.
She clicked the top button on the small remote and yanked on the drivers side handle. Within seconds of strapping on her seat belt, the navy blue four-wheel drive was backing out of the paved driveway and speeding down the quiet street.
* OYB * LDW *
Gail gripped her throwaway paper coffee cup with both hands. It was currently tucked to her chest to try and leech some of the heat back into her frozen body. She could see her reflection in the glass. She was all messy dark brown hair; almost black it was so deep, tossed up into a knot atop her head and ashen, clammy skin.
Her wide, pale blue eyes had kept a steady focus on the tiny infant with a similarly coloured blue beanie tucked onto his head. Abel Teller. A good strong name. He would need it too, what with all the damage her good for nothing junkie sister had done. Born addicted to crank with a hole in his heart and a tear in his stomach.
Her breathing caught in her throat. It was like history repeating itself. Both Gail and Wendy had been born with similar defects due to their mothers drinking and partying lifestyle. Sandra Fox hadn't seen the need to give up the drugs or alcohol when she got pregnant at some truck stop east of the land of no-man to a no name, no face trucker with a wife and kids east of the border.
Despite being a single mother and toting a sick baby around Sandra had managed to meet and secure the hand of one Harrison Dale Morgan. He had been willing to over look her past discretions before she started leaving baby Wendy with him night after night to party, sometimes not coming home for days at a time.
He had thought that when she became pregnant the second time she would change her ways. She now knew the cost of caring for a sick baby and this time around had a loving husband to share in the workload. At first it appeared to work. Sandra stopped spending days away and even got a job to keep preoccupied.
What no one realized was that her day job was nothing more than her nightlife shifted into the sunshine for a few extra dollars if the other person didn't mind the belly.
Soon enough Gail had been born with one kidney severely undersize with a tear in her stomach and addicted to an array of substances. If that hadn't been enough to drive her father away, the dumping of a third child on their door-stop was. The father of three-year-old Brynne just so happened to be one of her father's co-workers and enough was just enough. He informed Sandra that despite everything he would keep the children, he had a better chance at raising them right than Sandra ever had.
The next morning he woke up to find all four girls gone. Sure, Gail had reestablished contact with her dad as soon as she was old enough to. But her mothers refusal to let her go and her fathers reluctance to battle it out with her mother left her stuck in an unhappy home where neither herself nor Brynne were ever good enough. Wendy, on the other hand, had been the apple of their mother's eye.
Gail knew she may only be the little boy's Aunt but she felt a compassion for him that she would have expected his own mother to share given her own tumultuous birth and upbringing. Wendy had done nothing but fall into the same cycle their mother had and it was destroying not only the two of them but those around them.
How could she not see that?
"Precious little thing, isn't he?"
If Gail had felt tense before, it was nothing compared to the sudden tightening of every muscle in her lean body. It was as if they had coiled, prepared for a sudden fight or flight reaction but prepared nonetheless. That voice was enough to put any soldier on guard.
From the corner of her eye she saw the confident stature of Gemma Teller-Morrow step up beside her to gaze down on the blue bundle. The woman's tone was still biting and harsh although it was nothing compared to the tongue-lashing she had received the minute she had been cleared by security to head back to Wendy's room.
Apparently she was purposely sabotaging this woman's grandson's life by taking her sweet ass time all in order to take out some twisted revenge for her sister. Such a pleasant woman.
Gail remained still. She figured the best response would be to not say anything at all if the set of the woman's mouth was anything to go by. She had no doubt her current calm could turn vicious within seconds.
"Shame he wont ever get to meet his mother," she started off. Gail passively swiveled her head to look the woman head on. Gemma was still appraising her from the corner of her eye. Gail could recognize the callous glint to mean she wasn't finished yet, and whatever she had to say, Gail probably wouldn't like it. She turned her head to stare back down at her survivor nephew and waited for the other shoe to drop. "Or his Aunt."
That snapped her attention back to the older woman, her head whipping around to stare her in the eye just as coldly. "Excuse me?"
"You're right. It wont really be a shame. I was just tryna be polite."
Gail folded her arms tightly across her chest, ignoring the coffee cup now resting awkwardly between her chest and bicep. The smirk on the other woman's face told her exactly how confident she was in what she was saying. Gail was smart enough to know that usually meant she was the type who could actually back up anything she said. That was her first mistake. Now Gail also knew that this woman was overconfident in her ability to get her way through intimidation, and she also knew whom to target if the time ever came.
"I don't need your niceties or your pleasantries."
"Good, cause you weren't getting any. Take a good look at that boy, once he's moved to a private room you wont see him again. I'll make damn sure no one to do with that junkie tart gets on that visitor list."
"Look, Mrs. Morrow. I know your looking to play the blame game and seeming as Wendy may as well have served herself up on a platter, I'm honestly not sure why you're coming after me," Gail finally snapped. If this old bitch thought she could dictate her nephews life just because she said so then she had another thing coming.
"Don't think for a second I don't know what you're up to," she hissed back, an admittedly perfectly French manicured nail shoved in Gail's face.
"And pray tell, what would that be?"
A voice cleared in the background causing both women to pause.
"Gemma, can I talk to you for a second?"
Gail finally caved to her curiosity and craned her neck to look back over her shoulder at the newcomer. The woman was of average height, slender with dark brown hair and plain features. Despite this there was a soft prettiness and femininity to her face. She could tell from the scrubs and the lab coat that she was a doctor.
"Dr. Knowles."
Gemma sounded about as thrilled to talk to this woman, as she had been to speak to Gail.
Without explaining where she was going, Gail spun on her heel and headed towards the maternity ward. Despite the extenuating circumstances the staff had seen it best to place her in a unit closest to the neonatal department. Although Wendy had all but given up her parental rights the minute she injected crank into what was essentially her unborn baby's veins, they felt it safer to have her closer to the infant.
"Oh, Miss Case?"
Having already prepared herself for the misconception Gail paused to look back at the self appointed matriarch.
"We haven't finished."
Gail simply smirked back. "Looking forward to it."
* OYB * LDW *
Wendy had still been asleep when Gail went to check on her and she didn't know whether to feel ashamed or not that she was glad for it. The minute she had laid eyes on her sickly sister she had nearly lost her composure, the tears had been at the surface and the underlying rage had simmered in her veins.
Deciding to give herself a time out, she headed back through the maternity ward towards the pathology laboratories located directly next door. She had been shown to her office before she had made the move and was thankful to actually have some sort of sanctuary in the hell her sister had created. Normally her home would provide that space but the connection she had subconsciously formed with her nephew prevented her from leaving the building.
She was still in the same clothes she had been in when she arrived the previous evening. Luckily moving house was a casual affair and her yoga pants and plain grey t-shirt was lasting her well. She reached the door and dug through her handbag for her swipe key. After pressing it against the sensor for two seconds, the lock popped open.
Pushing the door aside provided her with the small lift her spirits had needed. The office was sparsely furnished but a mac computer, printer and scanning system plus extra screens had all been set up in what had formerly been a completely bare room.
The idea came as a split second decision. She pushed the door closed behind her with her foot and quickly sat down in the high backed swivel chair in front of the monitor, pulling out her phone at the same time. After inspecting the draws she found the appropriate cords and quickly set to work.
Twenty minutes and a quick trip to the gift store in the main entrance later, Gail found herself wandering the halls leading back to the NICU. She didn't know what time Abel was being moved but she figured she would take one last look – for now – at him and then pass her gift onto one of the staff to place in his new room. She had no doubt about how serious Gemma had been regarding the visitors list and given the circumstances was probably well within her rights to do.
Upon reaching the same glass observation window she felt a small pang. The small space that had been occupied by a glass incubator containing a precious blue bundle was now filled with yet another incubator, only the tiny person inside was swathed in hues of pink. She gripped the gift in her hands a little tighter.
How long would it be until she saw her nephew again?
"What are you still doing here?"
Gail turned around to see the same woman who had confronted the matriarch the last time they had been in that very room. She was still dressed in her pale pink scrubs but had ditched the lab coat. She held a clipboard between her pale hands, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of her grip. It would seem associations played a big part in this small town.
"What does it matter?"
The doctor's face screwed up as if she tasted something unpleasant. "Stay away from that family, do you hear me? Yours has already done enough."
With that she left as quickly as had come.
Gail figured it was safe to assume it would be a pleasant couple of days to come.
A/N: so I'm back with a new project baby! This is a concept I started working on years ago but after one laptop died and another met an unfortunate end – or new beginning – on a train it never really came to fruition.
I haven't given up on ARTESIAN CRISES, in fact I have a chapter or two in the works so hold on tight for those. Once again, this is just another little side project that could potentially gain momentum should the response be favourable…
Now show it some love!
Leave your ideas, thoughts and general conversations in the box below, I lurve, lurve, LOVE to hear from you all. It makes me smile
Until next time folks!