Marriage, Lies, and Xanex Prescriptions

Chapter 1

I can't believe this is happening. This can't be happening! I close my eyes and wish the whole situation away. This is not a possibility; I don't know what I will do. I can feel my leg unintentionally shaking, maybe I have that disease. What do they call it, RLS? I heard about it on the television. I have all the symptoms; well maybe that's not it. I'm nervous, more nervous then I have ever been before. I lean back into the hard, plastic chair unable to focus on anything. I feel absolutely fried. Why, oh why is everything falling apart? I'm biting the inside of my cheek to steady my nerves but even that doesn't seem to be working.

"Ms Isabella Swan," a warm voice called. I jump at the sudden interruption. "Hi, I'm Angela Weber," she paused looking cautiously at me, eyeing me up and down. Her eyes stop at my face, searching for a long moment. "Are you okay?"

I feel myself nod stupidly, seriously why have so many people been asking me that question lately. I know I have been a little pale, and lost a little weight; but it is all because of the stress. "Of course," I hear myself say automatically feeling the exact opposite on the inside. I wave my hand in a noncommittal way to show her I'm okay. "You know how it is." Angela smiles at me, but it isn't a smile that I like. Somehow I know at that moment things are about to get worse, which isn't possible but from the look in her eyes I know it. She is giving me that piteous smile, the one you give to someone when the news you have is absolutely horrible. It is like ripping off a bandage, just get it over with quickly. "I was told up at the front desk that you needed to speak with me about something?"

Angela is still smiling as she ushers me into her small cramped office, which smells strongly of stale coffee. I notice the mug on the desk, and notice it has that film that occurs when coffee is left out to long. I sit down in the chair opposite her and force a smile, or what I think looks like smile, I can't really tell. My eyes spy a folder sitting in the middle of the piles of paper on her desk, it has my father's name on it. I can feel my stomach drop, as I gulp trying to maintain my composure.

Oh God, I can't help it. I can feel the tears beginning to rush to my eyes again. I blink them back and clear my throat. "What is this all about?"

"Well," Angela looks up smile still in place. "It seems that you have fallen behind on your payments and seeing as how your father's condition has gotten worse. I am sorry to inform you that if your father leaves the facility, as in if he gets sick and has to go to the hospital, I regret to inform you we will not be able to accept him back into our facility."

"What do you mean!" The words are rushing out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop myself. "You can't do that. He's sick. I can't take care of him, that's what you guys are supposed to do, take care of him. For Christ sake, this is ridiculous. You can't kick him to the street. I'm trying, I really am."

Angela closes the folder and turns to me. I hate the expression on her face, I don't need her pity. I don't want her pity. What I want is for her to fix this, make it all better but I know she can't. "My hands are tied. We can't kick your father out as long as he remains at out factuality but if he…"

"I know, I heard you the first time," I interrupt. Running my hands through my hair I try to figure out the situation. "Didn't you guys get my payment last week? I sent it."

Angela nods. "We did receive your payment of five hundred dollars but you are still behind. If we don't received the amount paid in full I am sorry but-"

"How much do I owe," I interrupt.

Angela opens the folder, her eyes flicker from the page to my face. Her features becoming solemn as she begins to speak again. "Ten thousand dollars," she states matter-of-factly.

I jump to my feet, not really sure of what I am going to do. "Are you sure there is absolutely nothing you can do?" I asked for the third time. She shakes her head folding her hands over the folder. "Well then, I believe we are done here." Clutching my bag tightly over my shoulder I storm out of the office.

As soon as I am up the hall I stop, leaning against the wall. My heart is racing; I shut my eyes trying my best to gain control of my breathing. What the hell am I going to do? I can't afford that bill. Ten thousand dollars, where am I suppose to come up with that money? I take a moment to compose myself, a nurse passes me in the hallway but I ignore her glare.

I came here to see my father, and that's what I am going to do. That's what's important today. I walk up the hallway purposefully as I head towards his room. I stop as I reach the door, he is lying in his bed with the television turned to wheel of fortune. He's yelling out a letter every time the wheel is turned.

"Damn show," he mutters under his breath angrily.

"Hi Dad," I call. Charlie looks up at the sound of my voice. "How are you today?"

I enter the room as my dad smiles, well half smiles anyway. After his stroke he hasn't gain feeling in the right side of his face. "Bella!" he exclaims. I can tell he is happy to see me. "Did you bring me anything good?" he whispers in a lowered voice.

I turn and glance out the door before turning back to my father. There are no nurses around so I reach into my bag and pull out a small bag of his favorite candies which the nurses don't like him to have. He smiles once again at me, but I feel my heart drop like I do every time he smiles at me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked fixing his crooked pillow and repositioning him on the bed. He waves me off as I go to sit in the chair beside his bed.

"I hate this place," he mutters scowling as a nurses walks by. "I can't wait to get out of here. When are you taking me home?"

"Soon," I reply, my stomach dropping even further. He does this every time I come, and every time all I can say to him is soon. The truth is that he probably won't ever be leaving the nursing home and with his deteriorating condition I am in no place to take care of him. I can barely take care of myself.

Charlie grumbles again, something incoherent and I swallow. "Did you pay the gas bill? Your mother always forgot to pay the gas bill?" I nod again. This is how all of our visits go. He talks about my mother, and I nod. He asks me if I have paid all the bills on the house, I nod. When that is not actually true, I sold the house. I sold the house after he got hospitalized and I was forced to take care of everything.

At the time I was unaware at the massive amount of gambling debt my father had gotten himself in. There was nothing I could do, I was put in a situation I wasn't ready for. I was only nineteen at the time; I did what I had to do to survive. I quit school and tried my best to do everything in my power for him.

"I did it all Dad," I answer reaching into my bag for the real treat I have brought him. "I can't stay long today but I brought you something I think you're going to like." He perks up a little turning his attention to me. I pull out a ten scratch off tickets. "I saw these and thought you would like them."

My father laughs, which is something that is very rare these days. "Thank you," he answers taking them from me and running his fingers over the surface. His eyes are bright as he holds them in his hands. "I'll do these later."

I nod, I hate seeing my father like this. He was always such a strong man, he had his problem but he worked in a factory all his life. He was guff, and stubborn and never relied on anybody for anything. Now he lies in bed all day, unable to move. And although his mind is still sharp his body has begun to deteriorate.

My father continues to go on, asking questions about the house and its affairs; and I keep lying to him hating myself the whole time. I stay for another half hour before telling him I have to leave. I kiss him goodbye, and tell him I'll be back soon.

When I am finally in my car I allow my emotions to overcome me. What am I going to do? I am in serious trouble and don't even have a plan. Slowly I feel tears burning my eyes but refuse to acknowledge them. I say a silent prayer that he won't get sick any time soon and start my car.

What I need to do is not get all emotional about this. That won't solve anything; I need to be a rational adult about this. I need to solve my own problems. Yeah, right I can barely manage my own life right now. "I can do this; I just need to make some quick cash." I need to get a grip. The more I try not to think about it, the more it seeps into my thoughts. "I need to find a job, now."

There is nothing I can do here so I decide to go home, well at least what I am currently calling home. This at the moment is my best friend's couch. The whole ride over I try to think of solutions. I'll take out a loan; I think but then remember the last time I tried to do that hadn't been approved. I went through all the options in my head but nothing seemed to be enough to actually pay off the bill.

Parking on the street I grab my bag getting out of the car. Taking a deep breath I force a smile; I cannot under any circumstance let Leah know the truth about my situation. She would just make me feel worse, trying to figure out solution, make me feel inadequate. Pushing the front door open I am suddenly overcome by the familiar smell of baked goods. Leah is home, fuck. Dropping my things by the front door I try to be as quiet as possible.

"Hey Bells, is that you?" a voice called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it is me. What are you doing home?" I ask, looking through the pile of post that is sitting on the table by the door. I make two piles, one for me and one for Leah.

"Oh, I had this amazing idea for a wedding cake for the Miller wedding and didn't feel like working at the office. I needed the space to think. So, how did the meeting go?" Leah asks, she is in her usual apron pastry bag in hand. A bit of flour on her cheek, her dark hair pulled back into a high pony tail and the cake in front of her an elaborate floral masterpiece. I look around, noting the two tiered wedding cake sitting on the kitchen table that she hasn't even gotten too yet.

Leah is an amazing baker; she had been working at a bakery since she graduated from culinary arts school but recently had branched off to do her own thing. She decided to open her own catering company, which had taken off with the help of her parent's connections. Now two years later she is doing amazingly well and even has a staff of her own.

"It went," I answered trying to play for time. I know that I need to watch the way I phrase things, she can read me to well. "And well, it went just fine."

Leah glances up from what she is doing, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes me closely. "What did they say exactly?" She knows I'm lying to her, I just can't tell her the truth.

"Well," I begin, sitting down in a chair I reach for an ornate frosted flower. "They informed me that I would need to make a different…" I hear my voice trail off as I try to place the proper words. "…payment plan."

"Oh really, so they were willing to work with you?" Leah asked, the pastry bag still clutched in her hand. Drops of bright pink are leaking from the end but she doesn't seem to notice, her eyes are fixed directly on me, watching me. I need to play this one cool. Her eyebrows are raised and she is listening intently to everything I am saying.

"Of course," I lie easily, unable to believe how steady my voice sounded. Every day it is getting easier and easier. Maybe that's because every day I am lying more and more to more and more people. Debt collectors, insurance companies, Leah, I list in her head. Pushing that thought out of my mind I smile stiffly. "We talked over a new payment schedule."

"That's great news," Leah exclaims smiling brightly. Laughing at ease her focus switched back to the flower she had been diligently working on. She notices the few drips of icing and frowns. As she is busily trying to correct it I sigh in relief, crisis averted. Now I just need to slink away before she asks me anymore questions. As I stand she looks up a smile on her face. "From the look on your face I had thought the worse but I guess you're still digesting the news."

Something inside me turns to goo, I shouldn't lie to Leah. I have to, I warned myself. I force a laugh and hate the very sound. It is like an outer body experience, how could I be laughing so freely when my father is about to be kicked out on the street. "Of course, it is just a lot to take in."

"Oh, by the way the lady from the temp agency called a while ago. She said something about having a proposition for you about a new job that just became available. She also said something about it being something just up your ally."

I nod leaving the room. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket I head towards Leah's bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind me I dial the number I have used so often as of late. The phone rings a few times before it is answered.

"Hello CIS Temp Agency, Nancy speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hi Nancy, its Isabella Swan. Jessica called earlier about a possible position for me."

"Oh, hi Bella. Sure, let me patch you through to her," Nancy says with hesitation in her voice. I feel apprehensive, there was something about the way she sounded that makes me nervous.

A moment later I hear another click. "Bella, hi its Jess. Listen, I have great news for you. I found a job that meets your criteria and pays very well."

"Really," I say feeling myself get giddy. I feel a new sense of determination wash over me as I stand there hearing the most brilliant news I have heard in a while.

"Yes, but it is a little unconventional…"

Okay, to say that the job is a little unconventional is an understatement. Beside it sounds a little shady, for a lack of a better word. Seriously, I can't believe I'm even thinking about doing this. What am I thinking?

I sigh; I know exactly what I'm thinking. I need money, that's the only thing going through my head at the moment. I need to pay these people off; I need to make sure everything is set for my father. I feel my leg tapping again, and bite down on my cheek trying to stop myself.

"Hi Bella." I jump at the sound of Jessica's voice. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," I mutter standing to my feet.

Jess eyes me closely as I stand and follow her into the office. Once we are both seated she pulls out a bottle of mineral water pouring it into two plastic cups. Handing one to me she smiles brightly. "Well, have you thought it through?"

I nod. "I have but I just don't get it."

"The client wanted to be discreet about this. I realize it is an unconventional request but we do try to do what we can here at CIS," Jessica says sounding like she is reading a speech. I stare at her for a long moment. "Let me be completely honest with, I recommend that you just go and meet with him. If he gives you the wrong vibe then you are off the hook. There is nothing to worry about, no commitment at all but Bella, I know your situation." Damn me for ever confiding in her. It was a moment of weakness; it was out of sheer desperation that I even did it in the first place. "This just might be the thing to help you out of your situation."

I sigh again closing my eyes. She's right; she absolutely right and I have no choice. I prayed for a miracle and here it is. All I have to do is meet up and see if this will even work, no strings attached. "When do I meet him?"

A/N: this is a story line I have been mulling over for some time and the plot is completely written out chapter by chapter it's just a matter of seeing if there is any type of interest in a story like this…. Can you tell that I have a lot of thoughts running through my mind on a continual basis… absolutely insane!!

Review and let me know what you think…..