CHAPTER THREE
Jane couldn't get out of bed. The pain from her dental surgery was too much for her to get up and get anything done. At first, the pain was manageable with some over-the-counter pills, but now it was too much. She'd been given prescription pain pills for a reason, and David's taking of those pills was starting to get to her.
As Jane lay in bed, she got a text from Thora. She was in the neighborhood visiting Sarah MacGrady and wanted to stop by. Jane told her to come in through the garage so she wouldn't have to unlock the front door, and Thora obliged. She arrived with a small bucket with soup in it, which she left downstairs in the kitchen for Jane to get later. When she entered the master bedroom and saw how miserable her daughter-in-law was, she knew her visit was very much needed.
"I assume I know why you're in here instead of doing your usual work," Thora said darkly, her arms crossing instinctively as Jane confirmed her fears with a nod. Thora exhaled heavily, "I don't know what I'm going to do about him. Have the kids figured it out yet?"
"No, but Kate's surgery is coming up. I'm worried he'll take her pills too, and she just can't endure that type of pain without help," Jane cried, wiping her head with a cool, damp cloth to get the sweat away. Her pain was so much that it was causing the sweating despite the cool air conditioner flowing through the house.
Thora sighed as she sat on the foot of the bed, "I was wondering about that, and I think we need to do something before then. I'm going to ask him to seek help. I'll pay for everything if he'll just go into this program and see if it can help him. I have a friend's granddaughter who's getting married in Havana, so we can tell the kids he's going there for work and a short vacation. That should do the trick."
Jane shook her head, "I don't know if that would work for multiple reasons. How are you going to persuade him to go into a program?"
Thora smirked, "He stole from me too, Jane. I have the written prescriptions still and I can prove to the police that he stole them from me because he's the only one with a key. I know you and others know where the spare key is, but Arthur has his own life and the girls don't think like that. And why would you steal the pills? Until now you had no need for them. So, I think that would be sufficient. Besides, I have contacts with the police department. I just have to say the right words and they'll do anything they can for me."
"So we'll tell him it's rehab or jail?" Jane asked meekly. Thora nodded with confidence and Jane sighed. How was she supposed to be that confident with her husband, especially right now when she was in a world of hurt?
"I know it's a hard decision, but it must be done. And I brought you something. I can take the extra strength arthritis stuff for a few days so you can have these. Will five be enough?" Thora asked, pulling a pill bottle out of her purse.
Jane nodded and accepted the pills, which were in a small pouch on a leather string. Jane put it around her neck after pulling out a pill. Thora went into the bathroom and got her a cool glass of water. Jane thanked her before using it to take her pill. She swallowed it and exhaled slowly, hoping the pill would take effect soon.
Thora smiled, "I'll stay for a little while. I need to wash a jacket of mine in the car and my washer's low setting just doesn't do the trick anymore. You rest and I'll take care of some things."
Normally Jane would argue with her, but not today. She lay back and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and regularly as she tried to wish the pain away. Thirty minutes later, the pill finally took effect, and with Thora's chores done, she left Jane alone with her soup and a major decision on her hands. Jane wanted to let Thora handle the business, but part of her wanted to do it herself. She needed her husband back as he was again, and fast. She couldn't let her daughter suffer because of his addiction.
Francine took her sister's advice and asked Samantha out for lunch the next day. Samantha had been with the company for five years, and if you really studied the company's photography from then until now, you could see that her personality had changed dramatically. She started a young, enthusiastic worker, but now she was a cynical mess you didn't want to cross. Francine knew she'd be the perfect one to talk to, if she could get the conversation steered in the right direction.
"So, where did you want lunch from?" Francine asked. Samantha shrugged after getting her seatbelt on. Francine was driving, so Samantha was on her smartphone typing up a storm. Francine decided on a little café a few blocks down, "How about soup and sandwiches?"
"I can't have gluten," Samantha said without looking up from her phone. Francine was floored. She'd heard of that before but she had no idea who catered to such a restriction. She decided on an all-American café with a little bit of everything without telling Samantha. When they arrived, she got out without comment, so Francine assumed this would be fine.
After getting their table and ordering, Samantha finally put down her phone. She sipped the Diet Coke she'd ordered and looked Francine over as she fixed her iced tea the way she wanted it. Finally Samantha sat back and smiled, "So, what do you need to ask me about?"
"Am I that obvious?" Francine asked. Samantha nodded firmly. Francine shifted, "Well, I need to talk about Thornton."
"Off limits," Samantha spat, sitting up straighter, "You don't want to go there. If you don't like it, you need to find a new job like everyone else."
"I know you don't like it either. Who does?" Francine asked.
Samantha thought for a moment before nodding, "You're right about that, but I've looked at all comparable positions in and around Elwood City and Metropolis. He pays well for people our age, and if you can just put up with him, you'll get everything you want. I just closed on a house last month, and I got a new car within weeks of starting here. Enjoy the money, get what you want, then look for something else."
"It doesn't have to work that way if we all get together. We can be treated as we should be and make the right money."
Samantha laughed, "You are so young and naïve, Frensky. Thornton is the leader, the guy calling all the shots, but it's not his company. If the boss gets this case and enough people are for it and all that jazz, if hype is enough to make him act, he'll fire Thornton and get the next guy in line to fill in for him. That is his brother, a miserly old fart who doesn't know how the business works, but he knows how to save money and that's by cutting employee wages. And don't say 'Oh, we'll just sue' because that's not how it works. You just need to deal with it."
Francine shook her head, "I don't want to just deal with it. I can't work with some guy's hand up my ass."
"Then leave," Samantha shrugged, "It's as simple as that. Don't like, don't stay. I can't tell you anything else other than to keep this away from the others girls. It's not that they can't help you, it's that they won't, and they're right not to. We need our jobs, Francine. If you want things to change, you need to be that change."
Their food arrived and their conversation was silenced. Samantha picked up her smartphone as she chomped into a salad with grilled chicken strips. Francine bit into her mini burger sliders with a light smile on her face. She would follow Samantha's advice to "be that change," but it wouldn't be the way Samantha wanted. No, Francine was going to keep fighting. She just needed to find the right people to fight with.
Fern was surprised at her mother's support. Instead of helping her with the new project, she wanted to look into the old one. So within an hour of getting home, instead of sitting around the table eating dinner, they were sitting around the table picking through pages and rejection letters. Doria also had a manuscript with her, and from what she'd looked at so far, she knew Fern had an audience. She just needed to find it for herself.
"I've looked on my social media sites and decided I have over fifteen thousand followers. Some of them are bound to buy your book, but this summary is lacking and we need good cover art. Once we have that, we can market it to our followers and see who bites. Then we can just go from there," Doria smiled.
Fern shook her head, "I don't know what I want for my cover art. I'm just not artistic like that."
"Well, I was talking to some colleagues over lunch, and one of the lower agents who works with us periodically has a son who does graphic design. I think you went to school with him too. Alex?" Doria asked. Fern nodded; she recognized that game. Doria continued, "Well, he's offered to whip something up for free as long as we get him a copy of the manuscript beforehand so he can see what he's working with. He'll read it and go from there."
"I like that idea, but what if things take off? Do I pay him later?" Fern asked.
Doria smiled, "If you get successful, how you handle those kinds of situations are up for you. You have another job too, from what you've told me, and I think you can come up with that on your own. But for now, this is what we're doing."
"I'm okay with it. I'll take this over to Alex once we get in touch. Can I get his number or something?" Fern asked, but it was clear that this was her mother's mission. She wanted to do all the contacting and moving around, and Fern decided to let her. After getting some pizza delivered to the house, Fern went to her room and started on a new project. She wrote into the night, her mind only on her plot instead of her future. Fern would let her mother worry with it right now, namely because she'd become used to rejection. Now was no different, and she assumed that this time would be no different. This so-called publishing attempt would fail, so Fern would just keep writing like she'd always done before.
Sue Ellen looked up from her journal as her phone buzzed. Her mother was calling, so Sue Ellen continued the arduous task of convincing her mother she was totally and completely happy with her time in France. Her mother fell for it, believing every word and leaving the conversation happy like always.
In reality, Sue Ellen was journaling about her decision. Her conversation with Pierre had helped her figure out what she wanted to do, and a recent failed test had pushed her further. Sue Ellen was writing about her decision to contact her old university to see if they could still take her and help her finish up her degree. An email to her old dean was already drafted out, but now she needed to decide whether or not to send it.
Now that her phone call was over, Sue Ellen could focus on her decision. She wasn't going to be able to get her degree over here. The material wasn't the same, and her ability to pass the tests and stay afloat was fading. Her understanding of the language was fine, but her desire to continue living among this culture was waning fast. With so many terror attacks and rumors and overall fear, Sue Ellen wanted out of France and fast.
As she looked over the email, she decided she had to hit send. She needed out of here fast, but she needed a backup plan. She had to get in contact with her old university and find a way out through there.
She hit the button and sighed with relief, but she knew it wasn't over. She eyed her phone and realized it was time for another lecture. She rushed to the hall and took a seat in the back of the room. She attempted to focus on the teacher's thick and fast French, but this class wasn't for her today. She remained in her seat for the entire time, but she didn't want to be there. She didn't even want to be in this country anymore. She wanted to go home.
But Sue Ellen didn't know how to do that. She could get back to her old university probably without problems, but going home? She'd have to think of a way to go back without upsetting her parents. As Sue Ellen walked back to her tiny French apartment, she knew exactly what she had to do: Sue Ellen had to lead a secret life.
Jenna walked up to her parents' front door and rang the bell. When Mrs. Morgan saw her overly pregnant daughter with nothing with her, not even a purse or a bag, she knew something was wrong. She pulled her inside and sat her on the couch to hear everything.
"Something just clicked and I decided that I had to get out of there. Frank put me in the bathroom for mouthing off to him. I know I shouldn't have, but locking me in a bathroom? I just couldn't take it anymore," Jenna cried, wiping away her tears, "A neighbor helped me get away. I need to pay her back when I can, but I can't go back there, and I don't think I can stay here either. What if Frank finds me?"
"He won't," Jenna's mother cried, "I won't let him get you or that baby. Is it his?"
"Yes," Jenna nodded. Her mother smiled, "We don't have to tell anymore. As long as you didn't marry him, we can keep him out of this entirely. We can get you through this, but you need something to eat. Stay here and I'll go make something."
Jenna didn't argue with her. As she sat in her childhood living room, she thought about the moment she decided to leave. She didn't know why. Being locked in the bathroom was normal behavior, and it was nothing compared to when he actually did hit her or break her things. She didn't have food, but she had water, so her and her baby would be okay.
But she decided to leave, and now she was here. She looked over the living room and noticed her mother had changed out the picture frames since she was last there. As she looked over the photos, she realized her father wasn't in any of them.
Jenna moved to the master bedroom and found half of the bed—her father's half—covered in clothes and bags. Half of the closet—her father's half—was empty, and the bathroom was missing any evidence of a man's presence.
"I couldn't get in touch with you," Jenna's mother whispered, causing Jenna to jump at first. Then she turned around and saw her mother's smile, "We just realized we couldn't do this anymore. He took his things and went to his…his other family. He's married and can now raise his three kids with her. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I could not find you. I tried for months with no success."
"It's okay. Frank moved me away. I don't even know what the town is called, but there's a sign outside the neighborhood that says Cherry something. I don't know, but all of my personal information is still there. How are we going to get it back?" Jenna asked.
"I don't know, but we'll work out everything. You and the baby can stay here as long as you need to, and we'll get everything sorted. I've gone through worse than this, baby," she smiled, rubbing her daughter's shoulder. Jenna smiled back and followed her mother into the kitchen. Jenna sat patiently as her mother finished cooking, then the two ate some lunch together. It was delicious, and Jenna felt instant regret. Why hadn't she left Frank sooner?
Maria's apartment was just as nice as Muffy would expect from the building, but the shock for her was that Maria's job was unapparent. Law books filled the shelves in a small office, where Maria's workstation was laid out like a real law office. Muffy was surprised as she looked the place over. If there were an older man around, Muffy would assume she was the housewife of a prominent Metropolis lawyer.
But Maria was the lawyer. When she saw Muffy's expressions, she quickly told her that she was planning to become a lawyer. She would take the bar exam soon, and she hoped to start practicing within the next few years.
"Wow, that's an expensive degree," Muffy gasped.
Maria grinned, "Well, I'm not in debt, obviously. I'll stop once I get a good enough job, if I can. The job had a lot more promise when I first started, but I wanted to be a lawyer. That was my wish so I went for it, and if I can't have it, I'll keep doing what I'm doing. That's just how this world works now, Muffy. If you can't get what you want, you just have to do what you can to get it. Our parents look down on us, but hey, we're paying our bills."
Muffy turned to her, "So your parents don't approve?"
"Nope," Maria smiled, laughing softly, "They found out when they were in town without telling me. I accompanied an older man to a play and they found me at the theatre. When they saw us together leaving in a limo, they blew up my phone trying to get information, but I was finishing my night with a loyal client and ignored them. When they kept bothering me the next day, I came clean with them, and I haven't heard from them since. My cousin knows everything and is supportive though. Ashley has always been my best friend, and she gets it, and she tried to help. She shared photos of this place with them, but they said things that were beyond cruel and asked Ashley not to contact them again either."
"I don't think I've ever heard of Ashley," Muffy said, following Maria to a sitting room and accepting a glass of sparkling water from her.
Maria shrugged, "Some people know of her, others don't. Ashley was born with a rare disorder that keeps her inside a lot, and she didn't go to regular school. Basically she's allergic to sunlight, specifically the UV rays or something. I don't really understand it, but she and I grew up together. I'd go to her house on weekends so my parents could do whatever they did, and we got really close. We keep in constant contact with each other, and I didn't think twice before telling her about my job. She's been fully supportive, and she wants the best for me."
"I never thought this would be such a lucrative business though. This place is so nice, and you're self-sufficient. I don't know if I'll ever be self-sufficient."
"Well, Muffy, it's the oldest profession for a reason. It's not always about sex. Me 'finishing with a client' in that other story literally meant me going with him to bed and tucking him in like his mother used to do. The only physical contact we had was a kiss on the forehead. Another client has me over to his house, and he cooks me dinner and tells me about his day. I'm only allowed to nod and listen to his conversation right now, but that's okay. I'm getting a hundred-fifty an hour to do that, and I'm getting a free home-cooked meal."
"Wow, that sounds amazing," Muffy gasped. The thought of becoming an escort was once fully taboo, but now that she saw Maria and her lifestyle, she wanted in, but she didn't know how to say it. Luckily she didn't have to.
"I can hook you up with my agent if you're interested. You submit some headshots and fill out a profile about yourself, then you're added to the registry. The clients pick the women, not the other way around, and the agency helps get you where you need to be. You go, do what they want—and you'll know ahead of time—and that's that. You have to get tested every six weeks, and they want us to be on birth control, but it's not that bad," Maria said, handing a card to Muffy from her clutch nearby.
Muffy shook her head, "I don't think Daddy will be pleased with this, but they cut me off. I can't afford anything up here, but I can't get a job elsewhere."
"Well, your daddy can't control the business, and he doesn't have to know either," Maria winked. "It's time for you to live life like you want to live it, and if you want what you had as a kid, this is an easy way to do it, sort of. Dealing with people is a skill, so you'll have a lot to learn, but you sound like you'll have fun."
"I hope so. And I can stay here until I get everything sorted?" Muffy asked.
"I don't see why not, and it'll be nice to have someone to talk to, right?" Maria smiled. Muffy couldn't help but agree, and she made herself at home in Maria's condo. She was worried about the future, especially if her family found out, but Muffy had to do something. She needed her old life back, and Maria was right. This seemed like the perfect way to do it.
Ladonna was happy to have groceries back at home, but dealing with her mother was becoming too much. She'd messed herself and desperately needed to be cleaned, but today Ladonna was a stranger again, a vicious one that she attacked with all of her force. Ladonna could barely get near her, and she was beginning to grow scared. She had no idea what to do, but she knew she had to make some decisions.
She left her mother alone in her bedroom. This made the woman happy, and she began humming and singing to herself in her daughter's absence. Ladonna sighed and moved into the kitchen. She picked up the phone book for the area and started looking for something, anything that could help her.
As she reached some health care services, Ladonna heard a car outside. They were a full mile from the main road, so Ladonna peeked outside to see who it was. It was too early for the mail to come, but she knew as soon as she saw the car that this wasn't the mailman. Her family had come to visit.
Bud got out of his SUV and the other Compson siblings poured out. Ladonna cursed under her breath as she forced the phonebook into its place. It didn't go quite right and fell out, but Ladonna didn't care. She rushed outside almost in tears begging her family to leave.
Bud squinted at his sister, "You want us to leave? But where's Momma? Come on, we just want to visit with you and stay for a few days. Come on, sis, we've driven all this way to be here."
"And I want you gone!" Ladonna hissed. "We're just fine down here without all'a you. I don't have enough to feed you, and this house is too small for a Compson hoe down. Y'all need to leave!" Ladonna spat.
Her oldest sister was hurt, "Please, we just want to see y'all. It's been so long, and we just—"
"I don't care. Please, just get a room downtown and see the sights yourself. I can't have you around here like this. Go, just go!"
Her siblings were obviously upset, but Ladonna couldn't have them here. As soon as they were gone, she moved back into the kitchen and sank down next to the phonebook. Sobs shook her body with extreme force. She'd never cried this hard before, so hard that it hurt to even attempt to breathe. She'd just thrown out her family, the only people who could help her, but she had to. She knew her mother was in rough shape, and she needed to get her in order first.
Ladonna had no choice but to attempt to stop her tears so she could continue her search. She got herself under control and flipped through the phonebook again. She found the healthcare services and noticed there was a new organization in the area, a nursing home facility with independent apartments, assisted living, and full-time nurse care. Ladonna looked at their ad next to the number and decided these were the people she needed to help her. Her mother had to go to Magnolia Springs, but she had no idea how she was going to afford it.
Her mother's cries told her it was time to try again. Ladonna kept the phonebook on the kitchen counter opened to the right page. She went into the master bedroom, and like before, the unfamiliar Ladonna was the enemy. Her mother threw a lamp, narrowly missing the young twenty-something, and Ladonna fought to maintain composure. She was finally able to get to her mother and direct her into the master bathroom. With a stern, drill-sergeant-like voice, she demanded her mother get into the shower and bathe herself.
At first the clothes remained on, but Ladonna's stern demands got their point across. Soon her mother was naked and soapy, her nasty scent dissipating in the cleansing water. After ten minutes, Ladonna helped her turn off the water and get dried off.
Suddenly her mother knew she was family, and after getting dressed in clean clothes, her mother asked her to do her hair. She was Cherie now, a cousin her mother grew up with, and Ladonna fulfilled her wishes and finished her hair. She then offered her mother food, and the two went to the kitchen. Her mother was quiet as she ate, then she wanted a nap. Ladonna helped her to bed and returned to the kitchen to clean up.
When she was done, she picked up the phone. She called Magnolia Springs and told them her situation. The case manager said she'd look into her case, then they would figure out what to do for her.
The call ended and Ladonna sighed with relief, sinking into a chair. She hoped this would be the way to get her mother the proper care she needed, but her memory showed her there were more problems. She'd sent her siblings away with force, and she knew that would start speculation that she couldn't escape. She'd have to come clean eventually, but she wouldn't start today. She needed to rest, so she put her head down on the kitchen table. Within moments, she was fast asleep.
Lunch time usually meant a chance to go on a lunch date, but today Bitzi was out with the girls at the office. Kimberly did the numbers down on the first floor, but she and Bitzi worked closely together to make sure everything got done. Palladia was from marketing, and she spent her day on the phones seeing who wanted ads, who wanted more ads, and who wanted to keep their ads in the local edition. She and Bitzi talked at meetings sometimes, but they'd all grown closer over one key issue—dating.
At a local café downtown, the women sat around a table enjoying salads and mildly alcoholic beverages. After getting their food together, they three immediately jumped on their main topic of conversation. Kimberly and Palladia followed Bitzi's blog, and they needed all the details on her disaster date with the fake twins. Bitzi obliged, unhappy to be the butt of the joke again but content to telling her story if it possibly meant getting good dating advice from some other local singles.
But as the conversation shifted to Palladia, it was clear that one of them wasn't exactly single.
"So, I heard you've been seen out with the same guy a few times now. Who is he and where can I get one?" Kimberly grinned before taking a bite of her salad.
"I guess we have gotten a little serious. We met on a dating app, took a break for a while, then we met back up again recently. He needed me for a bowling tournament, then he took me out the next night alone to celebrate our win. And last night we just wanted to hang out," Palladia smiled. "We're not exclusive or anything, but yeah, I guess we're serious."
"What kind of bowling tournament?" Bitzi asked. Though she and Buster only kept up with each other on social media, she remembered him winning a local tournament within the last few weeks. Bitzi knew there were older guys on his team, so she was curious to know which one of them she was dating.
"The cup at that joint just outside of town. I don't remember the name of it," Palladia admitted. She shifted and turned to Bitzi, "Wait, what was your son's name again?"
"My son's name? Wait a second, are you dating Buster?" Bitzi gasped. Kimberly fought to keep her latest sip of her drink in her mouth as Palladia turned bright red. Bitzi shook her head, "I can't believe you're with my son. I mean, I'm happy for you, but the age gap!"
"It's only five years," Palladia whispered. She sighed, "Now that I know, I'm tempted to cut him off. I mean, that's just too awkward. I can't be in this circle and date your son, even if he is wonderful. What do you think?" she asked, turning to Kimberly.
Kimberly shook her head firmly, "Nope, I am staying out of this one. God, this is so juicy today! You should warn a woman before you drop a bombshell like that. How unexpected on a lunch break. I am not buzzed enough for this."
Bitzi sighed, "It's your choice. If you're happy with him and want to get serious, you have my blessing. Considering his last girlfriend was borderline homeless and used him like he was her father, you're quite the catch for him. I can just pretend he's not my son. It's not like we're close anymore."
"Now remind me what happened to his father," Kimberly said, taking another sip of her drink. "I need the whole story here so I can keep up."
"We've been divorced for years," Bitzi sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her drink before continuing, "We just weren't right for each other. He was gone all the time, and I felt like I was living by myself. We decided it would just be better if we went our separate ways, and it's worked. Buster grew up to be a well-adjusted young man who got to see the world on his summer vacations. Now he and his father go for excursions all the time, and it's wonderful. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Too cordial," Palladia said, shaking her head gently. "I don't hear a final straw sort of thing. Most women would love it if their man was never there. You get to fulfill society's whims, get your rocks off every now and then, and you don't have to deal with him hogging all the covers or leaving his crusty socks on the towel rack in the bathroom."
"He had his issues," Bitzi admitted, "but I don't talk about them because he has changed now, supposedly. He had a habit of getting drunk at the airport and having one-night-stands with different women. I couldn't handle it. He seems to have improved because he's engaged now. His wedding is in the Bahamas next month and I'm thinking of going."
"Who is he marrying?" Kimberly asked, a Cheshire grin on her face. Bitzi was reluctant to answer because she knew they were fishing for drama, but she told them the truth:
"He's marrying a fellow pilot, one of the few females on the fleet, or so I'm told. I've never met her and Buster hasn't either, and I don't follow them on social media."
Palladia grabbed her phone as fast as lightning, and Kimberly was immediately hovering over her shoulder. They already knew Bitzi's ex was named Bo, and it didn't take long to find Bo Baxter the Pilot on Facebook. After a little digging, Palladia and Kimberly shared a knowing smile before handing the phone to Bitzi.
"There's his fiancé," Palladia smiled, rotating the phone around. Her smile immediately faded, "Bitzi? Are you okay?"
Bitzi fell forward against the table, her head missing her half-full salad bowl on the way down. She just couldn't handle the shock—her ex-husband was marrying a man.
Belinda had five minutes to herself for lunch, so she went out to her car and pulled out her phone. She'd already shoved a burrito down to sustain her for the rest of her long shift, but what she needed right now wasn't food—she was looking for a new job.
The listings in and around Elwood City were plentiful for nurses with years of experience, but the pay was lacking. There were some private jobs that offered wonderful amounts, but Belinda wasn't educated enough. She was an LPN, not an RN, and it showed in the jobs market. She wanted to make more money if she was going to shake up her life, but she knew she might need to see what was out there, jump, and worry about the rest later.
Then she saw an institute in Hollydale, a small suburb of Metropolis that was halfway between the large city and Elwood City. The pay was good and the commute was worth it. There were three shifts, and she could apply for any of them once she passed the interview.
Belinda saved the listing to revisit on her home computer. She needed more time with her husband and daughter, and if this was the way to do it, she had to go for it.
With her business done, Belinda returned inside to find total chaos. An unruly patient on a mission was terrorizing her fellow nurses and other staff members, so Belinda joined the fight. They were eventually given permission to sedate him by a doctor, and the nurses distracted the belligerent man so Belinda could stick him. A few moments later, he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, so they carried him to bed and tied him down to ensure no further chaos. Most of the staff stuck around to talk for a moment, but Belinda got back to work. It was three a.m., too late for chit-chat. She went back on her rounds and kept going as if nothing had ever happened.
Hours later she was about to head for her car, but her boss found her at the nurses' station and called her into his office. Belinda clocked out and followed him inside, closing the door behind her.
"I saw what happened earlier. Nothing phases you anymore, does it?" he asked. Belinda couldn't read his tone so she remained silent. The boss turned to her, "It's a good thing. We've been looking for a tough nurse to transfer to the psychiatric hospital being put in at our Metropolis campus. Would you be interested?"
"I'm afraid I don't do psychiatric wards. That's where I started, and I refuse to go back," Belinda admitted. She preferred normal patient recovery rooms, not people with severe mental illnesses. While she could handle when one or two patients had a moment, she could not handle constant moments from every patient. That wasn't how she liked to work.
"The pay would be rather good for a nurse at your level. Fifty an hour with eight hour shifts, which is four hundred a day. Is that alluring enough for you?" he asked.
Belinda shook her head. She wouldn't do harder work for only twenty dollars more an hour. The job she'd looked at earlier offered the same amount for the same work, showing Belinda exactly where the bar was with other institutions.
Her boss was disappointed, and Belinda could tell these negotiations weren't over. She left without trying to negotiate her current conditions. Belinda knew one thing and one thing only—she was done with this hospital, and she was eager to leave.
Anita had just finished looking over an expenditures spreadsheet when she heard her husband get home. He'd crashed into the garage door, denting it slightly. He came in swaggering, leaning against the wall for support. Anita watched as he pulled himself slowly up the stairs, and soon he disappeared into the bedroom.
When she was sure he was upstairs, Anita pulled up another tab on her laptop. It was for a local rehab center for recovering alcoholics and drug addicts. She'd been looking into something like that for her husband ever since her conversation with Doria. While she had hoped to use her business's franchise to distract her from her husband's problem, she couldn't live with the guilt if his bad habit finally hurt one of their neighbors and friends, especially children. Anita needed to force her husband to get help, and the site had ways to do that.
First Anita wanted to attempt to get him to go on his own, but she knew that would be tough work. James had always been stubborn, and he'd always been reluctant to listen to his wife on any medical-type issues. Anita saw this as an illness, and she knew that convincing him to get treatment for his illness would be difficult. Add in the fact that he was rarely sober, and she knew she had a task ahead of her.
After putting away her things, Anita went upstairs quietly. Her husband was passed out on his stomach in the middle of their bed. His snores were loud, so loud they shook the silence of the evening, but Anita kept her mind on her tasks. She searched the room as carefully and as quietly as she could, checking every spot she knew he could be hiding a drink.
When she was done with the master bedroom, Anita went from room to room gathering her husband's stashes of alcohol. She was shocked at all the bottles she found, large and small and at various levels of emptiness. She put them all in the trunk of her car, and after checking one last time to make sure her husband was out cold, Anita drove two blocks over to Doria's house. She was about to go to bed when Anita arrived, but she joined her outside in her bathrobe at the garage.
"Is that everything?" Doria asked, a hint of shock in her voice upon seeing all of the bottles in the back of Anita's car.
"Everything in the house that I could find, and I looked everywhere," Anita sighed, exhaling as she opened the lid to Doria's trashcan. "And I'm getting rid of every last drop. In the morning, I want him sober. I'm going to ask him to go in for help."
"Good luck. Are you sure talking to him angrily sober is a good idea?" Doria asked.
Anita shrugged as she tossed in the last bottle, "What choice do I have? I have to do something, and if he decides not to go in on his own, I'll get a court order. As his spouse, I have power of attorney over him when he cannot make his own decisions, and addicts cannot make their own decisions when they're clouded over. The site made that clear, and it shouldn't take long to get him in once I start the process."
"Call me if you need me," Doria smiled as she watched Anita close her trunk and get into her car. Anita sighed but said nothing more. She would call if she needed it, sure, but she still had no idea what to expect from her husband.
Molly was just finishing up her shift when her doctor called. Molly was supposed to go to the grocery store as soon as she got off of work to get groceries, but her doctor made it clear that she was supposed to go straight to the office.
Molly was nervous as she drove over, but she kept her head high as she entered the nearly empty office. The only remaining nurse led her directly to the doctor's actual office, a room Molly had never been in before. Pictures of his family cluttered the walls between his specialization certificates and art pieces, and the room was comfortably full of the doctor's things. Molly focused on a mask behind his desk as the doctor looked through a file. When he was done, he looked up to Molly with a blank expression that seemed to be hardened on his face. This was not going to be good news.
"I was hoping to find an ulcer or something else as benign as that, but I'm afraid that wasn't the case. Your biopsy results came back from the samples we took during your endoscopy. It's cancer. We'll need to do more tests and scans to figure out what we're dealing with, but my fear is that it's spread to other areas. You've mentioned tiredness, and I detected some swelling in your lymph nodes. My guess is that it's spread to various areas of your torso, and we'll know what treatment can do once we do further scans. I've scheduled your first one for tomorrow morning. No food after midnight, and you'll need a ride home."
Molly sighed, "I can see what I can work up. At this point, what is your prognosis?"
"I can't say until I get those scans, but judging from your scopes, if the cancer is just where we found it, seventy-thirty. If it's spread, fifty-fifty. If it's spread too far, it just goes down from there. The treatments we have available to us are top of the line, and they've improved greatly just in the last decade. But until we know exactly what we're dealing with, I can't be sure, and that's all I can tell you. I'm sorry, Molly. This isn't what I wanted," the doctor said with genuine concern.
Molly nodded, "I know, but I just had that fear when I went in, and now you've confirmed it. I'll be there for the test. Do you have some paperwork so I'll know where to go?" she asked. The doctor handed her a stack that contained his plans for the next day along with pamphlets about stomach cancer and cancer treatments. Molly thanked him and returned to her car.
After taking a moment to stop the world from spinning, Molly had to make a phone call. She needed a ride for the next day, and the only person she could think to call was Rattles. They hadn't talked in several months now, but he'd been busy getting his life together. He'd gotten married to Eliza, a girl from their high school, and they had two kids now. If he wasn't busy, Molly hoped he could be her ride. She just hoped she wouldn't have to tell him too much.
"Molly, is that you?" Rattles asked. Molly confirmed her identity with a low murmur. Rattles laughed, "I was just talking about you. I saw James the other week and just remembered to tell Eliza how tall he'd gotten. How have you been?"
"I've been better, but we're doing okay. I…I need a huge favor from you. What are you doing tomorrow?" Molly asked.
Rattles took a moment before responding, "Well, once I get the kids to daycare, I can come into work a little late. Why? What's up? Is your car on the fritz?"
"No, no, I just need to get a little procedure done and they've asked me to have a ride. James doesn't drive yet, and I knew I could trust you to keep it on the down low."
"Wow, that sounds serious. Why don't you tell me tomorrow? When should I pick you up?"
"I need to be there around nine, so just come by when you can. It's only a few minutes away from my house. Oh, I'll have to text you my address. They changed it when they put in that new apartment complex," Molly warned. Rattles nodded and ended the call.
After taking yet another moment to pull herself together, Molly started her car and went to the closest grocery store. She picked up milk, eggs, bread, and some cake mix, which caused her to get some stick butter as well. Then she grabbed some premade fried chicken from the store's deli before heading home. She opened a few canned vegetables and had everything ready for James's return, including the fresh cake.
They ate like kings before going their separate ways. Molly wanted a bubble bath, then she needed to do something online. James had some homework, and they went to their own bedrooms for privacy.
When Molly was done with her bath, she pulled up her laptop and did some searching. She didn't look up information on her cancer because she knew the doctor would help her. What she did look for was a way to pay for her treatments. She knew they would be expensive, and she doubted her insurance would cover much of it. She needed charity, as much as she hated to admit it. She didn't exactly know what she was in for, but she knew that asking for help after so many years of doing things herself would be the hardest part of this disease.
Prunella was attempting to eat when she got the call. Dr. Mano was putting her sister on sedatives after an outburst at the facility. Prunella hadn't expected this development, but she was expecting what he said next—he thought she had the same mental illness their mother had. Dr. Mano told Prunella they'd start working on controlling her symptoms using medication, but she needed to stay in the hospital until the doses appeared to be working. Rubella was currently a danger to herself and others, something Prunella expected. She got off the phone without any new information. Everything he told her was as she knew it would be.
Despite the phone call and Prunella's genuine concern, Prunella had work to do. Her sister had been in the hospital now for three days, and in that time, Prunella had acquired three world-related crises. She had to deal with them if she wanted to keep her clients happy, and despite nearing the thirteenth hour at the office, Prunella would stay there ever longer to get her work done. At the moment, she was alone, but that was how she preferred it. The quiet helped her work.
Two hours later, Prunella was nearing her threshold for how much work she could do in a day. The coffee she'd brewed continuously since five that morning was no longer working, so she knew to call it a day. She gathered her things and turned off lights and appliances before making her way to the door.
When she opened it, she was surprised to see a gentleman standing outside. He eyed something in his hand before looking up to Prunella, "Can you help me find this please, ma'am?" he asked with a light British accent. He sounded like a real gentleman, and Prunella was happy to point him in the right direction.
As she drove back home, she was surprised to see similar-looking men nearly everywhere along her way. She smiled to them and waved, and often they waved back. She was enjoying the strange coincidence as she finished her trip and headed into her house. She sat her things down in their designated spot and changed into her pajamas. She was about to go to bed when her phone buzzed. She recognized the number as one of her coworkers so she answered it.
"Hey, did I forget something?" Prunella asked.
"No, no, I was just out when I saw you. Are you okay?"
Prunella was surprised, "Um, what do you mean? I'm a little tired but I'm perfectly fine right now. Why do you want to know?"
"We just saw you in your car waving and smiling to no one in particular. I was out with a few people who know you, and we were all a little concerned. How tired are you?"
"I guess I'm exhausted. Look, it happens to everyone. I thought someone was waving at me, so I waved back. Maybe I was just seeing things. It's okay," Prunella laughed. Her coworker blew it off too, and they let Prunella go so she could get to sleep.
But Prunella couldn't just climb into bed. She realized the cordial man she'd seen everywhere probably wasn't a real man at all, whether he spoke to her or not. The only way Prunella could tell was to go on the business's security feeds and pull up the video from when she left. Prunella went to the feed and watched carefully as she went back in time. She saw herself leave the building and turn to speak to the man.
But there was no man. Prunella was talking to herself, which meant she had been waving to herself for her entire trip home.
Worried, Prunella immediately went to bed, but her mind was racing. She'd seen spots before when she was tired, but never a live man that she thought was real. Her family's history of mental illness was beginning to scare her. Her sister had been officially diagnosed with the same issues as their mother, and now Prunella had to wonder if she was next.
Marina's decision was far from coming. Nothing she or Anthony had heard was real fact at the moment, so she wanted to hold off before considering his offer to help her find a job. That was what she resigned herself to, and three days later, this decision was the same.
But as the faculty piled into the cafeteria for their weekly meeting, she knew things were tense. A fog seemed to be over the room. Their meetings were normally lively and filled with snacking and other fun exchanges. Today the room was deafenly silent. Marina's ears rang as the school's leaders finally entered the room and told them all what they didn't want to hear—unless they charged the students or changed how the school was run, it would close at the end of the school year.
Solutions were discussed, but it was clear that the leaders would rather see the school fall than compromise the school's initial building blocks. The integrity of the brand depended on that, and they hoped benefactors would see their suffering and attempt to help before the school disappeared forever. That made several people unhappy, but that was how it had to be in the school's eyes.
When the meeting was over, it was clear that the teachers were all ready to look for new jobs. As Marina returned to her classroom to get her personal belongings, Anthony followed. He wanted to know what she thought, but Marina was numb. She didn't want this dream job to be fading, but she knew it was. She wanted to stay in denial a little while longer, so she went home without giving him an answer.
As she contemplated her future, Marina knew the only way she could get a job in a regular school would be through connections who were willing to vouch for her abilities. She couldn't grade papers unless they were written in braille, and she would have trouble dealing with student pranks without a proper assistant. She was handicapped, and schools catering to non-disabled students didn't understand that. If Anthony's father was willing to listen to his son and help her, maybe she would have to take up the offer.
For the first time in her life, Marina found herself wishing she wasn't blind. If she wasn't blind, she wouldn't have this limitation. She could get a job wherever without even thinking, and she wouldn't have to worry about being marginalized for any reason.
Marina started to cry at the thought. She'd always thought of her disability as a gift because her mother taught her so. Being blind gave her a new perspective, as well as tolerance for the differences present in the world. Wanting it to go away was the worst thought she'd ever had, and it upset her.
But she was more upset at the world itself. She didn't want the school to close, and her emotions made her want to fight for the viability of the school. She needed to get the community to help get enough money to keep the school going. She needed to cure their blindness, not her own.
A/N: Here's another installment. I think I'll wait to put Chapter 3 up on WordPress. I totally rushed my last post and didn't tag nearly enough characters, so I think I'll wait another day or so before I work on that.
While I'm here, I'd like to let everyone know that I'm finally finished with college. Today was my final meeting with my professor, and pending my internship boss's report, I'll be getting out of here. It's bittersweet, of course. I really enjoyed the English department here, and I met some amazing people while I was here. Add in my personal life, and yeah, it's weird that I'm finishing college now instead of maybe sooner (my grandmother that passed away always wanted one of us to graduate college. My mom's associates degree wasn't enough-she wanted more. Well, now I have it and she passed away a month ago). But I have a job and a way better commute, plus more writing time. Expect more posts from me, and I hope you guys are enjoying Not Done Yet:)