CHAPTER FIVE
Thanks to her mother-in-law's pills, Jane was back to her normal self the next day with the help of some Advil. After getting the house in shape, she called Thora about having lunch with her. They agreed on an Italian restaurant with a soup/salad deal, and the two arrived just before eleven-thirty for their meal. Jane ordered a brothy soup and Thora ordered a heavy pasta dish, but they both kept the agenda despite their opposite orders.
"I talked to him last night. He feels attacked because we think he's going to take Kate's pills, and I told him he should feel attacked. He should feel the need to get help," Jane spat.
Thora clicked her tongue and shook her head before taking a sip of her drink. She swallowed and sighed, "I just don't know what to do about him. I think we should give him time to see if he'll take our offer, but we can't wait too long. Kate's surgery is approaching fast, and I'm as worried as you are. Kate will need those pills to help her and I just can't let him take them."
"What should we do? I don't want to send him to jail—"
"I don't either," Thora agreed with a stern nod. "But we have to do something about the situation. Have you thought of anything?"
"Yeah, I have actually," Jane admitted, exhaling slowly before looking up from her ice water, "I think Kate should go home with you. I think she should go with you after surgery with her pills, and she shouldn't come home until she doesn't need them anymore."
"Do you think that could work?"
Jane sighed, "No. He's her father, which means he deserves to be near his daughter in her time of need, and moving her in with you would require a story. I might even have to send DW there to make the story work. I could tell them there are bugs or something. I don't know, but I know that's an option that I need to consider. I know you can't prevent him from taking the pills, but at least you'll be thirty minutes away where he won't be as tempted."
"I think he'll still be tempted. I've been doing some reading, and these pill addictions are nasty to contend with. It's hard to convince the person they need help, especially when they've gotten hooked because of an injury. David believes whole-heartedly that he needs those pain pills to get by, and he's started to think he can take them from others because he can use that injury to justify his actions. I don't know if he'd really take Kate's pills or not, but a wife and child should both be similar to a man. If he'll steal from you and leave you in agony, well, he's too far gone and something needs to be done," Thora said firmly.
The women paused as their food was delivered. As soon as the waiter was gone, Thora looked up to Jane for her response.
"I agree with you. He's always said I'm his soul mate, that he loves me more than anyone in the world. But you're right. He tried to use his pain over mine, and I can't let him do that to Kate. Besides, I don't want them to know. All of our kids have so much on their minds already, and I just can't ruin their perception of their father like that," Jane said, sighing heavily, "We can't send him to jail, only rehab."
"Well, we'll have to persuade him if we do that," Thora said, taking a bite of her pasta and shoving it into her mouth. When she was done chewing, she looked up, "Do you know how you could do that?" she asked. Jane shook her head firmly, and Thora nodded. This was exactly how she expected it to go, and she wasn't surprised that Jane was at a loss. Despite her research, she felt that she was also at a loss for how to deal with her son. The only option they had at the moment was to brainstorm other possibilities. But jail time and moving the children seemed far-fetched, and the women finished their meal in silence.
Francine was working on a layout when Thornton came into her office. Like always, his cologne arrived before he did, almost making Francine gag as she worked on her current project. She watched him closely using the reflection of a glass cabinet nearby. He checked out her ass for a full minute before walking up beside her. As she expected, she felt his hand brush against her hip on the way around to her opposite cheek. He gripped as he looked over her work before nodding with approval and releasing her.
"You've been doing fine work, Francine. I was going to let someone else tell you, but I wanted to deliver the news myself. I'm going to give you a raise, pending you decide to stay here for five years. Here's the contract. Why don't you look it over while you have lunch, then drop it by HR with your John Hancock," he said, Thornton's eyes locked on Francine's bust as he spoke. He licked his lips before leaving Francine to her work, the contract resting in her hand.
Francine did need food, so she shoved the paperwork in her purse and went a few blocks over to a taco joint. It was super crowded, which gave her plenty of cover. After ordering a spicy chicken taco with extra sour cream, she ventured to a table far away from the main crowd. She then pulled out the contract and looked it over while her food cooled.
She knew immediately that she couldn't sign this contract without being terminated. She'd learned from her father to always read before you sign anything, and her original employment paperwork looked nothing like this. There wasn't a clause against unionizing or any form of employee group-ups, and there definitely wasn't anything about lawsuits or anything else.
Somehow word had leaked that she and the others were planning something. As she looked over the contract determined not to sign it, the girls from her dinner party entered the restaurant. Soon they were all there, and all of them had those forms in their bags. When they saw what it was, they all agreed it was a ploy, but how did anyone find out?
Francine sighed, "I bet Samantha spilled the beans. She doesn't want us to turn things upside down, so she must've mentioned something about unions for raises. The extra money is to convince us things are equal, but the contract is to get us out if we protest anything. We can't sign this, even if we do need the money."
The others agreed, but they didn't think Samantha would talk. One had seen Samantha with a packet like theirs, a packet she too gave the once-over without signing. She too headed out to lunch, and as if on cue, she appeared nearby with a cup of green juice and a bag from a local healthy food cart. When she spied the women, she darted inside and stood by their table:
"What is this? How did they find out you were planning anything?" Samantha demanded.
Francine shrugged, "We were just ruling you out. You were adamant that we wouldn't be able to do anything. If we sign this, we definitely won't be able to. We'd be out on the street in a heartbeat unable to do anything."
"I noticed that too. The rules in this are beyond ridiculous, and that tells me that they know something about your conversations. I suggest you keep things under wraps and keep your mouth shut," Samantha said, pausing before adding, "but I think we should all refuse to sign this. More money but more rules isn't enough. Are you going to sign your forms?"
A chorus of "no" came from the table, and Samantha nodded curtly before heading back towards the office. Francine eyed her watch and realized she needed to get back too, but her taco was untouched. She and the others scarfed down their food in silence, but an unspoken agreement had been reached—they wouldn't fall for the company's games against them.
Fern came home from her shift at the Greasy Burger to find her mother in her office with her cellphone glued to her ear. It was all work-talk, but judging by her frantic gestures, she had something else going on. After snatching up an apple to attempt to calm her unruly stomach, Fern joined her in her office and waited patiently for the call to end.
As soon as Doria hung up, she turned to Fern and exclaimed, "We've been published! I've been getting orders all day, and everything is set up. I've lined up ten hardbacks to be sent to the house. Alex's cover design was perfect, and I can't wait!"
"Wow," Fern said, but her lack of emotion wasn't picked up by her preoccupied mother. Fern had just met with Alex two days ago, and now the design was finished and the book was ready to be sold? AND there were orders lined up?
Fern was in a state of disbelief, but her mother believed every moment of it. She demanded Fern get a shower so they could go out for dinner, and Fern reluctantly agreed. They'd be going to Sammy's Italian Eatery, probably for one of their family spaghetti plates. The place had been Fern's favorite for a long time, so she couldn't refuse the offer, especially when she was starving. That apple had done nothing for her, but a dinner at Sammy's would be plenty.
After getting dressed up, the family departed to the restaurant, but what greeted Fern wasn't what she expected. Doria had gathered up several business associates and friends, and most of them were trying to get book order forms from Doria, who showed them all how to do it on their smartphones.
Fern kept her head down and her eyes on her food as devices were passed around through multiple people. She had no idea this was what her mother was planning, and she was uncomfortable just by being there. This wasn't what she expected, and she didn't want all of this attention. She knew Alex told her things would be crazy even if she managed to get formally published, but Fern had her doubts. There wouldn't be some huge party the night of the deal, not yet at least.
Hours later, the family returned home to Doria's song of a hundred orders. Fern had already sold a hundred books before she'd even seen the text in its finished form, but something was bothering her. Had her mother edited the content?
Fern decided to ask about a digital copy, and Doria squealed with delight before passing Fern her own tablet from her office desk. Fern darted to her room and looked over the text.
Her heart sank. Scenes were missing, chapters were out of order, and all of it was done under the huge heading of "DORIA WALTERS, EDITOR." Fern was furious. It took extreme self-control to keep her from chucking her mother's tablet into the wall. She felt sick, so sick that she rushed to her bedroom's trashcan, barely ringing the bin as her dinner came spewing out. She wiped her mouth with a dirty sock from her nearby hamper.
Fern composed herself and moved to her computer. She found Alex on Twitter and sent him a direct message asking to talk. He replied with a chat site, so Fern found him there. She broke the news, and he was immediately sympathetic. He asked what she was going to do about it, but Fern had no idea. Right now she was just too sick and angry. Part of her wanted to curl up in her bed and never wake up again, but a larger part of her wanted to take back her works and treat them how she'd always wanted them to be treated.
Alex told her to let him know her decision, and Fern agreed that she would. She then returned her mother's tablet to her office, careful to avoid either of her parents. She just couldn't face them right now, not without an epic meltdown. Fern was eager to let out her emotions, but she needed to be smart. She needed to handle things the right way to ever win in this situation.
Sue Ellen arrived at the airport and took a taxi to her new apartment. It was halfway furnished. The kitchen had all of its appliances, and there was a large, hideous sofa in the living room. But the bedroom only had a mattress, and the bathroom was missing any kind of shelving. She had work to do, but her accounts were bare. She'd already started looking for a job. Even if Pierre paid for everything, she needed spending money now.
Just to learn the place better, Sue Ellen took the mailbox key laying on her kitchen counter and went to find her box. It was located in a central building next to the compound's office, and Sue Ellen eagerly found her box and opened it. To her surprise, she already had some mail. One was a letter welcoming her to her graduate program, but another had a hand-written address. She decided to take it back to her apartment, and she was happy she opened it in private. Inside were five crisp hundred-dollar bills.
"What?!" Sue Ellen exclaimed, feeling for a letter. A green Post-It was stuck to the inside, and Sue Ellen plucked it out eagerly. It was from Pierre. He'd sent her some money to get her started, and Sue Ellen was floored.
Despite their chat and his seemingly genuine personality, Sue Ellen knew to have her doubts. This was a man in a foreign country who was probably trying to woo her. Why did he have to be honest? The money in the envelope could be fake for all she knew, or from his own personal accounts instead of anything from his supposedly-rich parents.
As Sue Ellen pulled out her laptop and connected to her own wifi for the first time, she decided to look up her classmate online. She'd never found Pierre online because she didn't feel the need, but now there was an intense need. She needed to know exactly who she was working with.
After some false finds, Sue Ellen finally found a Facebook page belonging to Pierre. It was a few years old, but she could tell from the photographs that it was the Pierre who was paying her bills. Inside those photographs were family members and friends, but Sue Ellen eyed the background. In one photo, they were at a ski resort's lodge. The painting over the fireplace was a genuine first-edition, probably worth thousands upon thousands of dollars.
Vacations were to exotic locales Sue Ellen had only been to through her father's connections, and their clothes were always the best. Souvenirs of infinite value were given to family members and friends, and many of them thanked them openly.
Sue Ellen sat back from her computer with her mouth halfway open. Pierre was who he said he was, a rich kid with infinite means. He was genuinely concerned for her well-being, and when it came time for dinner and Sue Ellen cashed her first hundred, she realized this money was legitimate too. Pierre and his money was the real deal, and Sue Ellen had no idea what to think. She'd never been this lucky before, but now she was.
As she ate Chinese takeout and eyed her full wallet, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Her mother was calling, and Sue Ellen maintained a careful conversation. Part of her wanted to tell her mother everything, but another part of her knew the level of disappointment would be high. Her mother always wanted her to have a French degree, not realizing how little Sue Ellen wanted such a thing. Neither of them knew it would prove to be that difficult, and Sue Ellen knew she had made the right decision for her own needs.
When the call ended, Sue Ellen looked over her letter from the university again. She couldn't believe she was back at home with the people who had taught her so much during her undergraduate days. She was eager to reunite with everyone in one of her favorite buildings to date, the history building of the campus. Time was moving too slowly, but she knew that trend would only continue. As long as she was lying to her family and friends about her location and plans, time would move as it wished, hopefully concealing ant of Sue Ellen's seemingly ill deeds.
Jenna was thumbing through an expected mother's handbook when her mother got home from work. Jenna struggled to get out of the comfortable chair she'd been sitting in, and as her mother appeared, she watched as Jenna finally hoisted herself up. She giggled before setting down a bag on the floor, a baby gift bag complete with pastel tissue paper and cute artwork.
"One of my coworkers was chatting with me this morning, and when I got back from work, this was on my desk," Mrs. Morgan smiled, shaking her head, "They want to throw you a baby shower, but I told them that would be your choice. Think about it for a few days, then we'll give them the word."
"I don't see it doing any harm," Jenna shrugged, setting her book on the shelf, "People tend to give a lot of diapers and we don't really have many yet."
"Or wash cloths or teething rings," her mother nodded, "We don't have so many things, but we'll get it. And I talked with my boss. As soon as you're willing, you can work at the office in the afternoons. You can even bring you baby."
"Actually," Jenna started, smiling meekly, "I've come across something else."
Jenna's job search for an evening job panned out. She let them know when they called that she was due within the next month, but they needed about that time to get her trained for the position as a waitress. She'd work a cocktail bar downtown, serving drinks and pub fare between ten and three six nights a week. The hours were long but the pay was good, and Jenna's mom could watch over the baby while she was gone.
Jenna told her mother everything, hoping her mother would be proud at her effort and ability to find her own position in such a short amount of time despite her condition. But as she finished her spiel, Jenna noticed her mother was unhappy.
"Jenna, I…I mean, I know you think you're being ambitious, but do you know how tired you're going to be? That baby might not sleep through the night for months, and throughout the day you'll be running for bottles or breastfeeding, or you'll be changing diapers. Baths, have you thought about baths? You'll be busy all day with taking care of the baby, cleaning up after the baby. You'll barely have time for yourself, let alone a night shift job!" Mrs. Morgan exclaimed.
"I think I can handle it, at least, I want to try to handle it. I know this baby is going to need a lot of care, but I need to make it work. I need to be self-sufficient so I can really find myself," Jenna cried, real tears forming in her eyes. She hadn't expected that, but her pregnancy hormones meant she cried often and for little reason. She wiped her eyes with a tissue and eyed her mother.
Mrs. Morgan sighed, "You're right that you need to be self-sufficient, but I don't think this is the time to really start proving yourself. Babies are handfuls, and until you get to know your own baby, you shouldn't make big plans. When would you start? A few days after your due date?"
"Three weeks, but I can talk with the manager after training. Maybe I can get the full six weeks that most people get. That should be long enough to work things out," Jenna offered.
Her mother shook her head with a skeptical look, "I just don't know. If you want to do that, fine, you can try it. But you need to think of your own health, not just the baby's. If you're unable to take care of them because you're winded from work, or if you're dangerous in the workplace because you haven't slept, then you're not doing it right. I don't mind taking care of you, if that's the problem. I know you need help right now, and I know you need to get to know yourself. You and Frank have been together a while now, and he taught you a lot of the wrong things. You need more, and you deserve more. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."
"I know, and I'll think about it. But I want the training. At least I can do that while I decide," Jenna smiled. Her mother agreed and the conversation ended, though both knew this issue wasn't through being discussed.
Muffy eyed Anastasia's business card. She'd had a rough day at work, running around the building for hours tracking down lost files and botched paperwork, all of which was blamed on her by her irate father. She could still feel his cold stare on her neck, and her ears rang from his boisterous screams. It was the worst day at work she'd had since she started, and Muffy felt fed up.
As Maria entered the living room from her bedroom, Muffy could tell she was dressed up for a client. She paused at the coffee table to put on long earrings of dangling crystals. When she was finished and approached Muffy in the kitchen, Muffy realized these weren't crystals. They were real diamonds sparkling in the astounding natural light of this luxurious room.
"Where are you going tonight?" Muffy asked curiously.
Maria grinned, "I'm going to the opera with a local businessman, a man I won't name but I can assure you that you know if you've been working with your father as long as I think you have. This man loves the finer things in life, and he likes me to go with him so he doesn't have to sit alone. We'll have drinks afterward, then he'll bring me home. It's a simple affair. He's a widow whose children abandoned him. He doesn't want sex, just companionship," Maria explained, checking her makeup in a mirror, "So, have you decided?" she asked, eying the business card.
"Sort of," Muffy admitted. She sighed, "I know I'm sick of working with my father. He yelled at me all day today, and my feet are throbbing from all the running around I did tracking down the files that I supposedly lost," she groaned.
"Wow, that sounds miserable. Why are you having such a hard time deciding? The way you've talked before, this is a typical problem at the workplace," Maria said.
Muffy scoffed, "Typical hardly. Normally he just shoots me dirty looks. I've never been blamed for filing errors before, but today everything was my fault. I couldn't do anything right, and there's a possibility today's hours will disappear from my pay stub. It's happened before and I couldn't get them back. Daddy fought HR and he won, like always."
"Again, why are you having such a hard time deciding?" Maria smiled, sitting beside her.
"Because of what you're doing tonight. You said I probably know this man, and if these people start using me or seeing me out around town, they'll talk. I could ruin Daddy's business, and despite all of the devious things I've done or tried to do in my life, I can't let that happen," Muffy sighed, "even if I want it to."
Maria nodded, "I've heard talks about your father wanting to expand his business ventures again, possibly into international markets."
"You're correct," Muffy nodded, "and I doubt he'd want his daughter to sabotage him by becoming a high-class escort to these clients because he doesn't pay enough. Some of the places he wants to do business with treat women in high regard. If they don't make the same as the men, they make more. If they found out he won't even pay his own daughter genuine wages, they would never do business with him."
"I know you're explaining this to me, and I'm hearing everything you're saying, but again, why not try to ruin him? Maybe he if finds out, he'll treat you better and you can get your dream job," Maria suggested.
Muffy shook her head, "This wasn't my dream. I excelled at science in college for whatever reason. I was average in high school, but the way universities taught the sciences clicked with me. I heavily considered going pre-med, but I decided against it because he was adamant that I join the family business. My mother didn't say anything about the idea, but I think she wanted me to follow my dreams. Now I have zero chance of that dream, at least on my current track. I mean, I don't know if this is really what I want, to be a doctor, but I want a chance."
"So?" Maria asked, tapping the business card, "Anastasia can help you, and if there are any adverse effects, she'll still help you. I think there are more positive effects that could come of this. Your father will get what he deserves, and you could end up helping his clients in the long run. I think it's worth a shot, and Anastasia would agree. Call her and set up something simple for your first run. She'll help you, and you'll see."
Maria had to leave, but her words lingered in the air. Muffy felt the same as she did. There were more positives that could come from this than negatives, but she wasn't even sure if she'd like the work other than the better pay. She needed to set up a first job, so she called Anastasia. She was happy to hear of Muffy's decision, and she agreed to a simple job for her first start.
"There's a family man who will be alone this weekend. He normally plays ping-pong or video games to rekindle his love for his wife. Sex is out of the question because he does love his family. As long as the woman looks like his wife and wants to play, he's eager. Do you like this job?" Anastasia questioned.
"I'm ready," Muffy nodded. Soon she had the time and address. A company car would be sent to the building to take her to the address, and the same car would take her home when she was ready to leave. She just had to make the call, and if anything made her uncomfortable, she just had to tell the man how she felt. The job sounded amazing, and Muffy couldn't wait to start. She ran a bubble bath and relaxed, daydreaming about how the job would go.
Ladonna was surprised at how quickly Magnolia Springs fulfilled their duties. Nurses began coming to the house to bathe her mother, help feed her, and to stimulate her mind. Ladonna was finally able to get real shopping done during daylight hours, so she ventured to the local Walmart for supplies.
As she speculated which toilet paper to buy, she felt eyes on her. She looked up to see a hurt Bud staring at her, his cart full of barbeque supplies. He approached and shook his head firmly:
"I don't know what happened when you came down here, but I expected more from you."
"I'm sure you did. I didn't want to do that, but y'all don't understand—"
"Of course we don't! You wouldn't tell us anything!" Bud exclaimed. He scoffed, "Mama should've stayed up there with us. I doubt she's happy living with a fool like you. She would've been happy to see all'a us."
Ladonna swallowed hard as tears formed in her eyes. She was instantly upset, the emotions of this confrontation taking hold of her throat. Ladonna felt herself sink to the floor as her legs grew wobbly.
Bud was shocked. He'd wondered what his sister's initial outburst was all about, but seeing her on the ground after only a few ill words concerned him. He could tell something was up, but he needed to comfort her to get any real information. He kneeled next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. His anger towards her faded as he felt her body shake with vicious sobs that she contained by holding her mouth tightly against her knees.
"Ladonna, look, I didn't mean it. Something must'a happened down here, something I don't understand. I'm sorry. We just wanted to come down for a nice family visit. Now we're all sittin' over at our aunt's house gossipin' about you and Mama. We don't know what to think, Ladonna. Just tell us. We're family. You can tell us anything," Bud pleaded, rubbing Ladonna's back.
Ladonna felt her sobs subside. She stood up and wiped her tears. She pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose. She then stopped as she realized how loud and obnoxious that noise was.
She turned to her brother and shook her head, "Not here, Bud. Can we meet up in the parking lot? At a restaurant? Walmart ain't really the place to be talkin' 'bout your family business," Ladonna whispered.
Bud agreed, and after getting cellphone numbers, they agreed to meet up at Burt's Diner a few miles away. After their shopping, they ordered barbeque plates and settled outside, swatting away a wasp before getting into their meal. They were silent at first. Bud needed Ladonna to talk first, and she realized that. After getting some of the food down, she looked up. Now wasn't the time for lies. She had to tell her family what was going on.
"Bud, Momma has Alzheimer's," Ladonna said plainly. She shrugged, "When we first got down here, her doc talked with her and ran some tests, some verbal some scientific. He confirmed it was an early kind, and it's progressed fast. She barely recognizes me anymore or she thinks I'm somebody else. I tried taking care of her for as long as I could on my own, but I had to call Magnolia Springs. They got a nurse down there now takin' care of her for me. I just don't know how I'm going to pay for it. I never finished school. Mama needed me."
"Ladonna, why didn't you tell us sooner? We would'a been down here in a city minute if we'da known," Bud cried.
"I know, I know I should'a told y'all what was going on, but I was scared. I didn't think it would happen this fast. One day we're havin' dinner together, and suddenly I'm Charlene. I never did find out who Charlene was, maybe a childhood imaginary friend or somethin'. From then on I was friends or cousins or other kids, and then she just stopped recognizing me as anybody she knew. She almost knocked my lights out a couple times when I tried to bathe her. She messes on herself, so I have to wash her as much as I can, but it's hard to do that when she's on the warpath. That part hasn't changed about her," Ladonna said. Bud couldn't help but smile. Their mother had always been a determined woman.
"But what are you sayin' about payments? Doesn't Mama have insurance or somethin'?" Bud questioned. Ladonna told him she hadn't found anything yet, but she doubted they did. Bud shook his head, "I think we have to tell Daddy. I know you're scared about tellin' all'a us, but Ladonna, you've done all ya can. You need to spread the word and accept help. Compson's stick together," Bud said firmly, pulling out his phone. He turned it towards her, "There's Daddy's number. He's got a new fiancé now, but I don't see him sayin' no."
"I just don't know. Telling you liketa give me a heart attack," Ladonna said with an emotional sigh.
Bud patted his sister's arm, "Well, sometimes we gotta do what we don't wanna do. We didn't want to come down here, but y'all been so quiet, we just saw we had no choice. Now I know why you didn't say anything. I get it. You were scared and Mama must be so sick. I can't imagine her not knowin' alla us. That sounds so—"
"It's tragic is what it is," Ladonna interrupted. "Mama doesn't deserve alla this, but it happened, and I know I shoulda told ya sooner. I feel better already, but what if we can't pay anything? Will everybody really chip in?"
"It's Mama, Ladonna. The whole county'll chip in if we ask 'em. Come on, open yourself up. Let the world in. I never thought I'd see you like this, a turtle on her back hidin' in her shell. You got ta come out, Sis."
Ladonna knew he was right, but she was still worried. She took down her father's number then took her leftover lunch home. After putting up groceries and helping the nurse with a bath, she went onto the back porch and pulled out her phone. After eying the phone for a minute or more, she finally hit the call button without thinking. She lifted the phone to her ear. After two rings, her father answered.
Ladonna cried, "Daddy, I need to talk to ya about Mama."
"Say whatever you need, baby girl. I've been waitin' to hear about y'all for the longest, and I doubt you've heard about me either. You go first. You sound so upset," her father said with a hint of excitement in his voice.
Ladonna told him the big news, then she asked him the big question. There was a pause so long that Ladonna thought the line had gone dead, but then her father said the magic words:
"Let me see what I can dig up."
Bitzi's phone buzzed, and after a quick peek to make sure she was fully alone in her office, she plucked her phone out of her lap and looked at Richard's latest response. It had been three days since they started talking online, and the previous night she decided to give him her phone number. He only wanted to text but that was plenty for Bitzi. She smiled brightly at his latest joke and tapped out a quick "LOL."
"Bitzi, lunch—wait a second, why are you smiling like that?" Palladia smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned on against the doorway. Bitzi slipped her phone back into her lap and shook her head. Within moments her phone buzzed again and Palladia raised an eyebrow, "Come on, girl. Come to lunch with us and dish out those deets. I'll grab my coat and meet you at the elevator."
Bitzi was reluctant. She'd contemplated from the beginning keeping Richard a secret from her coworkers and any other friends that asked about her love life, but now she had no choice but to reveal her secrets. Palladia had grabbed up Kimberly and Tanya before coming to the elevator. They waited with knowing smiles as Bitzi gathered herself, and once she was there, Kimberly pushed the down button and turned to Bitzi with a devious grin.
They all rode in Tanya's SUV per her request, and somehow it was quiet on their car ride to the Mexican restaurant they've chosen for today. It was only after their drinks arrived at the restaurant that the full-blown questioning began from all angles. Kimberly wanted names, Tanya wanted to know the mystery man's origin, and Palladia jumped in when needed to ask whatever the others left out.
Bitzi finally sighed, "Look, it's a new relationship with a guy that's not from around here. We're just talking, okay? That's it, and yes, I like him, but talking is one thing and dating is another. Just drop the subject."
Palladia smirked, "You didn't really want to drop the subject when you found out I was serious with your son. We have every right to push you for the details, whether the guy is family or not. Besides we are just playing with you. You've been fighting this losing battle for what feels like forever. We're happy for you, and we honestly thought you'd talk to us about him."
"Well, this time is a little different," Bitzi said, sipping her drink, "I just…I feel like I need to keep this one a secret for a while, just a little while. As soon as I'm ready, you'll all get the answers you need," Bitzi nodded.
Somehow the women accepted this and changed the subject to a meeting they would have later in the day. Palladia was concerned about budget cuts, but Tanya was even more concerned. She was a journalist by trade, and she was one of the few full-time people still working at the paper. All other writers were freelanced locals who submitted their stories rather than being asked for them. While this meant they had their beats covered, from local government issues to high school sports and beyond, it meant the paper was fulfilling its duties just as well without paying them a salary. A few dollars per paragraph was about all the freelancers could muster, way too little for Tanya to live on without getting another full-time job.
"What are you going to do if they decide to cut the rest of the writers?" Palladia asked. She then turned to Kimberly, "Wait, could that happen?"
"I run the books. I don't keep up with the politics of the task," Kimberly said firmly, sipping her drink and looking up, "Listen, I haven't heard anything. I thought today's meeting might be about the fair coming to town in a few weeks. They want to run a full spread of photographs like last year, so I thought this would be about that instead."
"You agreed with us at first. What changed your mind?" Tanya questioned. Kimberly shook her head before tapping her smartwatch. The date came up and she showed it to her. Tanya shrugged, "You're right that it's coming up, but you can't blame me for being paranoid. Bitzi, do you ever get worried about the budget?"
"Of course I do. I've been here longer than you all, and my job is more at risk because of how much control I have over the paper's content. One wrong story, one wrong stance, and my job will be in the landfill before I can even pack my desk. Believe me I worry, namely because I don't know what else I would do," Bitzi explained.
Tanya smiled, "That's my problem. I don't know what else I want to do because writing has always been my thing. If anything does happen, can you fight for the writers like me?"
"Of course I can help, but we'll see what I can do. I'm just at risk as everyone else," Bitzi said.
Palladia grinned, "And that's why she wants to keep her new man a secret. At least she'll have some control over something."
Bitzi toasted the comment, and the rest of lunch had a much better tone. The women returned to work refreshed, but all of them were still gravely concerned.
Mrs. Barnes left the job interview with a confident gait. Despite being exhausted from her long shift and a lack of sleep, she really felt like this was the final step before her new beginning, a time when she could finally live a normal life with her family.
As she got into her car, her phone was ringing from the dash. She pulled it out a second too late, revealing there were ten missed calls. All of them were from the hospital, and when the phone rang again a moment later, she felt she had no choice but to answer it.
"Where are you? We need you! There's a trauma situation!" her boss demanded.
Belinda was skeptical immediately, namely because she hadn't heard anything on the police radio in her car. She wondered if this was a ploy to get her back to the hospital for her standard shift, and she realized very quickly that she was right.
"Look, that's not my area of expertise," Belinda said firmly.
"Like hell it isn't!" her boss screamed. "Get here now!"
Belinda shook her head. Her feet ached, her back throbbed, and her eyes felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. She wasn't fit for duty even if she was being called in for a normal shift, let alone a supposed trauma situation.
Belinda sighed, "No, I'm not coming in."
"If you don't come in, you're fired!" her boss said with a hiss like a snake.
Belinda smirked as a wave of something—she didn't know what—came over her, "You can take your job. You've been treating me like shit for way too long. I'll send an officer over for the things in my locker. Good day," she said firmly before ending the call abruptly.
Belinda sighed as she realized what she'd just done. She wanted another job before she quit, but she felt they had given her no choice in the matter. Demanding her presence after a twelve-hour shift, which she'd been doing nonstop for the last ten days, was beyond reasonable. They were working her like a dog, and she was done.
After taking a moment to herself, Belinda called her husband with the news. Then she called a deputy friend from the local police department. Upon hearing her story, she agreed to go over to the hospital to get Belinda's things. Belinda told her just to cut the lock on her locker, and the officer didn't mind.
With that out of the way, Belinda returned home. She took a shower and sank into her bed. Within minutes, she heard a car pull up outside. She'd already told the officer to let herself in, and within moments, she was in Belinda's bedroom with a sympathetic smile on her face. After a moment, the lady deputy laughed. The hospital hadn't expected Belinda's reaction, but people knew what was going on, namely because her boss was furious and yelling at everyone he could. Belinda laughed, as did the lady deputy. This would be a funny story in a few months, that day when Belinda told her boss to shove it.
But when the lady deputy was gone, the fear set in. What if that job interview didn't go as Belinda planned? She needed two incomes to keep the house running properly, which meant she needed another job pronto. Worried overcame her and sleep wouldn't come, leaving Belinda even more exhausted despite her initial relief.
Anita stepped into the jail's visitation area and went into stealth mode. Her husband still didn't know she was behind his arrest, that hers was the letter that helped the judge decide his bond, well, his lack of a bond. James was stuck behind bars, and if Anita had her way, he'd receive treatment while there to help him recover after his sentence.
But when she saw her husband, it was clear the addiction was his sole source of comfort. He had that drunk look in his eye, and after a few questions, it was confirmed that one of the guys in his cellblock had gotten him some liquor. It cost James more than Anita had expected. He had to give up food from his lunches as well as do things for the other inmates. He started to tell her what things but Anita drowned him out. She didn't want to hear that, not one word of it.
"I'm going home now if you only want to talk about alcohol and how you got it," Anita said firmly. "When I heard you'd been arrested, I was sick. What if the whole world finds out? Your son could find out. Do you know how devastating that could be to him?"
"He's messed up enough. This won't affect him," James spat.
Anita shook his head, "It's time you learn that all actions have consequences. Clean up or you won't be allowed back home," Anita said firmly, standing up to leave. She stopped and turned to James, "And these rings? I'll sell them for scrap."
The alcohol kept that from getting to James. He had no reaction as he watched his wife walk out of the visitation area. When she was gone, he asked for an escort back to his cell, and that was the end of it.
Back in her car, Anita checked her phone. She had a meeting with a supplier to discuss her current contracts. Anita didn't want to go to the meeting, but it was only an hour away. She had no choice but to make her way to their factory for the discussion. She put her car in drive and left the Elwood City Jail, but she stopped a mile later. Her phone rang with the tone she'd assigned for Alan. Her heart sank as she pulled into a gas station and answered the call. Did her son already know?
"Mom, what happened? I just saw the article on my Twitter feed. Was Dad really driving drunk?" Alan asked.
Anita groaned. Yep, he knew: "Yes, he was, Alan. He's got a real problem, but he's in jail right now. He'll be able to clean up there and get the help he needs."
Alan sighed, "I didn't know Dad had problems like that. Is there anything I can do?"
"No, but you can talk to me. I miss you, baby. You're all the way in Chicago and I'm all the way here. When do you think you can come home? Just for a visit," she added, hearing his hesitation.
"I'm doing things here. I work at a pub here busting tables. It's good work and helps me think. I love it and I hope you're happy for me."
"I am happy for you," Anita said, "but you're my only son. I'm entitled to want him to come home every once in a while, even for a day. Or maybe I can come to you when things settle down. I'm franchising now, or trying too."
"That's good, but I don't know. I'm fine. You focus on yourself, and keep me updated on Dad," Alan said. Before Anita could respond, Alan ended the call abruptly. Anita cursed under her breath then got back on the road. Her business wasn't going to run itself. She had to go to that meeting, whether she wanted to or not.
Molly looked up from her last cleaning and realized it was time to go home. She finished with her client and did the usual chat things, but she was quick to grab her things and rush out when she was done. She was in her car with the keys in the ignition when her phone rang. James was calling her, so Molly answered.
"Hey, sis, I just wanted to let you know I got the job. I'll be here until ten," James said.
Molly's heart sank. She already had a frozen pizza and a gallon of rocky road at home. She was going to tell him tonight, tell him about the cancer they'd found. She was still waiting for the test results to know how far the disease had spread, but she needed to let her brother know. If he was at work, she couldn't.
But she had to play it safe, "That's good, James. Just make sure they let you get some food, okay?"
"Oh it's fine. They ordered a pepperoni pizza and they have some 2-liters around the place. It's nice here and there's good music. I think I'm going to like it here," James said with a level of excitement in his voice that Molly hadn't heard since he was a child.
Molly smiled, "Go get 'em."
The call ended and Molly rested her head in her hands. She had no idea this was going to be so difficult, and so far, it was becoming the hardest part. Rattles and his wife had found several charities, and each of them had started the paperwork to receive the grants. Molly met many of the requirements, and so far, that part of her problem was looking okay.
Now the only problem was the cancer itself, other than telling her brother. Molly wanted those test results to know what she was in for, and she was eager to start treatments. She just wanted this part of her life to be over, but it hadn't even started yet.
Lack of sleep was really starting to get to Prunella. She'd been seeing things for hours, things she knew that weren't real. As her alarm chirped a third time to let her know it was time for work, she knew she needed to call in sick and try to get some sleep. She put in the call and left a message for her coworkers. She wouldn't be at work today.
Prunella sighed as she sat up in bed. She never should've looked up those symptoms. She now saw how her sister went wrong. She was always watching medical shows or dramas, and she was constantly reading books, fiction and nonfiction, containing different diseases and their symptoms. With those things in her head, it wouldn't be hard to make the connection to different diseases. Add in her true diseases and the real problems she had, and it was clear why her sister had always struggled.
She couldn't let that happen to her. Prunella rationalized the situation. She couldn't sleep because of stress, and the main thing causing her stress, other than late-night Web M.D. visits, was her job. She loved it when she first got there because it was a challenge, but now the people around her couldn't do anything without her. Despite calling in sick, she knew that within an hour, they'd be calling with questions. By mid-morning, even if Prunella was disemboweled or sick with the flu, she'd have to go in to save them.
As she thought about her work, she realized how much she hated it now. It was fun in the moment, but on days like this when she really needed sleep and TLC, she wouldn't be able to leave the work behind. That bothered her, especially when she knew so many other careers that could give her the time away from her job that she needed.
Now that she was awake, Prunella made a cup of coffee and got on the computer. Instead of hitting up Web M.D., Prunella decided to check out the LinkedIn account she made a few years ago when she finished college. She'd befriended several professors and their contacts, and after browsing some of their profiles, she wondered what else could be out there for her. She knew the decision was rash, but she wanted something different. She needed an escape.
After an hour, she had sent out some messages and finished two cups of coffee. The phone call she expected came a little after nine. The photocopier was acting up and the repair shop couldn't send out a serviceman until late afternoon. Prunella agreed to come in, and after showering and freshening up, she headed to the office with dark shadows over her shoulder.
Marina's dream was haunting. She avoided Anthony the next day to help keep the images from her mind, but she couldn't avoid him the next morning. As soon as she entered her classroom, she found him sitting at the back of the room flipping through something. When he saw her facial expression, he told her that he was flipping through his father's school's newsletter. He offered to read her some of the things inside because there wasn't a braille edition, but Marina refused. She asked why he was there in the first place.
Anthony smiled, "You know why I'm here. This place is doomed and I want to save my friend and colleague from a troubling job search. My father and I have talked about you, and we think you could be very useful. There are four blind students currently in the local school system, four blind students who could use a woman like you. My father thinks he could start his own school for the blind with you at the head."
"And it would replace this one and give me so much glory," Marina said with an air of sarcasm. She looked away from Anthony and started walking to the front of the room, "I've thought about it, and I'd rather try to save this place than try to find a way out of here."
"That's tough work, especially under the time constraints that you have. I mean, I'd offer to help you, but all of my professional writing contacts do other things. They work in journalism, or one writes manuals for General Motors. None of them do grant work, and I don't think you know anyone who does," Anthony said with a cocky tone. He smiled, "I think you'd be better off starting anew like my dad wants to do."
"Well I don't agree. Look, even if I can't get the money I need to save this place, I don't think I can work for your father. It doesn't feel right, even if he wants me for a new mission. You should talk to someone else around here. They should be able to help," Marina said firmly. She turned towards Anthony, "I'm sorry, but I'm refusing your offer. And if you won't help me, I'd rather we not talk anymore."
Anthony stood, his chair screeching against the floor. It screeched again as he pushed it in with enough force to hit and shake the table he was sitting at. He stammered for a moment before leaving the room. Marina didn't hear any paper so she went to the table. As she suspected, he'd left the newsletter behind. Marina tucked it in her desk at the front of the room and sat down.
He was right that she needed to find a professional writing contact with the skills she needed, but she'd already gotten a lead. In college she met a mostly blind woman with a knack for writing. She transferred out after a year of school, but Marina lost contact with her. She'd recently found her on Facebook and added her as a friend, and now she needed to know what the woman did for a living.
After school that day, Marina went home and sat at her computer. Instead of putting in her students' test scores, she pulled up Facebook and found her contact. Mary Simons was online at the time, and within a moment of sending her a message, Mary responded happily. She thought this was the same Marina she'd gone to school with, and she was eager to hear from her.
An hour passed as Marina caught her up on her life and vice versa. When that was done, Marina asked what Mary was up to lately. She was working with a law firm in Texas, but she was planning on coming back to Elwood City soon to work with another lawyer. Marina decided to ask the million-dollar question: Did she ever dabble in grants?
Mary surprised Marina. That was her job, to work with lawyers who work with companies of all sizes. These lawyers helped them with legal rights, and Mary did the paperwork. Often it was contracts, both their creation and their touch-ups, but most of the time she was helping nonprofits get grants to complete their work.
With that out of the way, Marina told her everything about the school and what she needed. Mary agreed to get started with her million-dollar question. Only certain types of organizations could get grants, so she needed to know if the school was one of those places. Marina helped her find the information, and as the women hoped, the school was the right type of nonprofit.
Everything was settled, and Mary agreed to start working. She would need Marina's help, and the two exchanged phone numbers and email addresses to make the work easier. With contact made, both went about their business. Marina went to her freezer for a meal, but before she could get there, her mother called with a dinner invitation. She picked up her daughter and the two went out for Italian food. They talked about family first, but soon Marina told her mother about her crusade. Mrs. Datillo was pleased with her daughter's project, and she agreed to help if needed.
Marina now had two allies, something that pleased her when she returned home. But Anthony bothered her, and she wondered if he was planning anything beyond her control. She could tell he was rich and powerful by birth, and he wasn't used to people not following his plans. She just didn't know the consequences, but she knew that if there were going to be any, they would reveal themselves very soon.