CHAPTER SIX
Jane tapped her pen in frustration. She had finally gotten back to work, but now that she was spread out in the den working on her client's payroll entries for the last month, she could only think about her husband, her daughter, and how his problem could affect her. As she contemplated this, she realized DW was in just as much trouble.
Jane hadn't been ignoring DW as much as DW had been avoiding her. The girl was eighteen and eager to leave high school for college, not that she really knew what she wanted to do. She'd been accepted to Elwood City Community College along with Vicita and a few of their friends, but none of them had really decided on a major. They were just doing what was asked of them, but Jane was worried.
Lately DW had been out but she wouldn't say with who. She'd give a location and tell them when she'd be back, but she would never reveal any details. She would have evidence, however—ticket stubs from the movies or score cards from mini golf excursions. But Vicita wasn't mentioned, and the two wouldn't walk to school together either.
Jane was bothered by this, so she decided to so the one thing she hadn't done for a while: check out their rooms.
After Arthur left, he agreed to give one of the girls his room. DW wanted to stay put, so Kate took Arthur's room and made it her own. She painted the walls a light shade of green and painted his bookshelves grey. Books and stuffed animals covered those shelves, and everything was as orderly as Jane expected.
DW's room, on the other hand, was a disaster. Clothes littered the floor and posters were flung onto the walls, one of them with a blue bubblegum wad she must've chewed herself. The floor was unable to be seen in most spots, and DW's computer was barely accessible for all the things cluttered around it.
Jane went to it and wiggled the mouse. The computer came to life, no password needed, and what Jane found scared her. DW was chatting online with various people, and her latest conversation was about cures for depression. While some responses were normal remedies, most of them natural or behavioral, one dark person who went by Darkness666 suggested suicide to get rid of all of her problems…and DW was responding to him. At first she was skeptical, but this person was convincing. If she killed herself, she'd never have any pain, she could get away from her parents and any bullies, and she would never be depressed again.
Jane was horrified at what she saw, and she rushed from the room barely able to breathe. She went downstairs to her own bathroom and threw cold water on her face in an attempt to calm down. She had no idea what to do, so when Thora came by for lunch, Jane threw it on her. Thora was concerned as well, but like with David, neither of them knew what to do. Confrontation wasn't the answer yet either, so they needed to wait.
But Thora did offer one more suggestion. If Jane didn't mind snooping, she should keep looking on DW's computer for answers, careful to leave it was untouched as possible. Jane liked the idea, but she couldn't bring herself to do it today. That was a task for another day, a day when she was much stronger.
Francine could tell the office place was tense. It had been two days since the initial offer, and so far, she knew of only one or two women who accepted it. Either way, she knew the entire office had received it, or at least all of the office's women. That proved there was a huge problem, and Thornton and his executives were working on a huge cover-up.
After she finished at work, Francine decided to contact her sister again. Catherine was having dinner with friends but wouldn't mind getting dessert with Francine later. Francine agreed, and after eating alone at a diner, she went to a local cheesecake hotspot. Catherine joined her, and the two shared a booth with their slices—Catherine ordered plain but Francine wanted chocolate marble with an Oreo crust.
"So, what's new? Your call sounded really important," Catherine said before shoving a bite of the divine cheesecake into her mouth.
Francine nodded as she finished her own bite, "It was important. They've sent out new contracts with raises attached. If we accept the offer, we lose the ability to protest. The executives must know what's going on and they're willing to cover it up, otherwise they wouldn't have sent out those contracts like that."
"You don't think Thornton added it in the end?" Catherine contemplated.
Francine disagreed, "No, I think this started with him. I think he wrote up the contract first, then the rest of the executives passed it along. There aren't any women up top, and I doubt any of the men would care if the women around the place were being propositioned like that. I think this entire company is corrupt. It's so bad that the first woman I talked to, the chick who refused me, has agreed not to sign the paperwork."
"Wow, she's onboard now? That's crazy," Catherine said firmly, shaking her head. After eating another bite, she looked up, "I don't know what to tell you, but this sounds insane. You know what I think you should do?"
"What?"
"I think you should journal about everything. Go back to the beginning and go from there, and include dates if you can. Then you need to contact a reporter with your issues, or at least someone who can send out the report for you. You and your coworkers need to do that, and when the story breaks, the town will give him no choice but to stop, well, all of them since it's apparently not just the one," Catherine explained.
Francine thought about the idea and she liked it. After finishing dessert with her sister, Francine returned home and started typing. She was amazed at how the process helped her memory, and she was able to add in dates, as well as run-ins that she forgot about before. By eleven that night, she had pages upon pages of entries, and she knew she needed to talk to the others to get theirs started. Then they had to decide who to send it to. Francine would start that work tomorrow. She had no choice.
Fern was surprised to find herself in Alex's room again. After their conversation online, Alex desperately wanted to help her figure things out. After ranting for an hour about everything her mother removed, Fern finally sat on the foot of the bed and gave Alex a pleading look. She needed a way to fix this, and their conversation told Fern than Alex had a solution.
But Alex didn't have a solution. He sighed, "Well, I don't really know what to do here. She edited everything, even my design. That was supposed to be here and the text was a different font. I think the background color was a little different too, not much."
"So my mother changed everything, but why? Why would she do something like this? She seemed so genuine when she approached me, but the way she changed everything tells me this was all for her, every bit of it. Ugh, I'm so lost. I thought you could help me, but we've both been duped," Fern sighed, resting her head in her hands.
Alex turned to his computer and started typing. After a moment, Fern looked up to find him browsing through the results of a search engine. The question was concerning her issue, not his, but after a moment, he opened a new tab and asked about someone editing a graphic design for a project for their own personal gain.
Between the two sets of results, Alex came to one conclusion. He looked up to Fern to see if she was listening, then he told her:
"I think the only way to get anywhere with this would be to sue your mom, but there's no way that either of us could afford that, not for a while. That's the only way to fix this completely, to revoke the current edition and take back your own. But, there's something else we can do."
Fern sighed, "As long as it doesn't involve legal stuff, I'm all for it. You're right. I can't afford to sue my mom or anyone. I barely have two hundred dollars in my bank account."
"But you have internet access and the ability to write," Alex smirked. "You need to wait a few weeks until people get their copies. Then you need to start posting online reviews on Facebook and other very public sources. Tell them exactly what you think, that it was pieced together after the author's submission into an unreadable mess. You may even need to create fake accounts to share the material, but that should get the word out all through Elwood City. You can even post flyers in the library after a while telling people not to read the book because of how it seems."
Fern smirked, "That's so devious but I love it. People always look to online reviews now for anything, even a quick bite to eat during lunch. The people of Elwood City will see the reviews and listen, and she may even get called out for it. Oh, Alex, this is the perfect plan."
Alex shrugged, "I try, sometimes."
Sue Ellen had never felt happier. Now that she was back on campus, back to her old life, she felt more at home than she ever had. She quickly adjusted back to her American classes and scheduling, and she was instantly pleased with how the classes were conducted. She could handle this, and though she would still have to work to get her assignments completed, she felt like she at least had a chance to succeed, something she hadn't felt at any point during her French studies.
A week passed and Sue Ellen remained in close contact with Pierre via Skype. He helped her furnish her apartment and Sue Ellen's food budget was firmly in place. Now the only problem was to keep her mother satisfied. She still had a copy of Sue Ellen's schedule from her French classes, so her daily chats with Pierre helped her know exactly what to tell her mother, who had called almost daily since Sue Ellen's return to the U.S. Sue Ellen told Pierre about her sudden influx of calls, and she noticed him tense up at this announcement.
Sue Ellen shifted in her seat, "Why did you tense like that? Do you think I've been busted?"
"No, no, but it's a possibility," Pierre said, shifting from damage control to brutal honesty in the same breath. Pierre sighed, "Your father travels often, and if he uses the same airport that you used to return home, your mother may've spotted you. Your hair is rather original. I doubt it's very common where you live."
"You're right. My mom would always find my hair in the crowd at events," Sue Ellen muttered, shaking her head, "Do you really think she already busted me and she's just playing me to catch me again?"
Pierre shrugged, "I am unsure, really I am, but you said this was sudden. There are a multitude of options. She could be missing you for some personal reason, or she may've had a dream of you and wants to bring you closer. Maybe she just misses you or she's ill or any number of options. But you need to consider that she already knows."
"You're not making me feel very well about this, Pierre. I hate lying to my mother, but I couldn't stay in France. It just wasn't for me, so I had to come back. I didn't want to break her heart, and I just…I can't tell her now, even if she might already know," Sue Ellen whispered.
"I know, and I'm sorry I brought it up. That was just the first thought that came to mind, and I see I've upset you. I apologize," he said, shifting, "I called you for another reason today. I have something that I would like you to try to do for me."
Sue Ellen was curious, so when Pierre said he wanted her to write a report for him, probably a report for the class she just left, Sue Ellen was instantly concerned. Was he only paying her way through American college so she could do favors for him?
Pierre smiled, "I'm only asking because I need your opinion. I've already completed and turned in the assignment. You left before it came about, and I want to know where you stand through your writing."
Sue Ellen shook her head, "I'm not writing a report to tell you my opinion on something. What do you need to know?" she asked.
Before Pierre could answer, his image froze. A few seconds later the connection ended, and neither of them tried to reconnect. Sue Ellen didn't know why Pierre didn't try, but she didn't try because of her concern. She was still thoroughly confused as to why a guy like him would help a girl like her financially without anything in return. If he was going to start asking for reports and using his money over her, then Sue Ellen had a problem.
She had already come up with a solution. She wanted to work while she was in graduate school. That was the normal thing to do, and one of her best friends from before had told her about an available position in the university's archives building. Sue Ellen had already put in an application, and if she got the job, she would make enough to pay most of her bills. She would keep Pierre's money, if it kept coming, just to give her a better cushion in case of hard times.
But if he planned to use his money to blackmail her, it wouldn't work. Sue Ellen wouldn't be played. This was her life now, and she intended to live it however she wanted.
Jenna started her training much to her mother's dismay. The worst part was how much Jenna enjoyed the work. She took to it quickly, and the manager was eager to have her on their team. The problem was Jenna's pregnancy, and while she had an overinflated beach ball on her stomach, she would be too big and too pained to actually do the work.
After a week of training, the manager sent her home, leaving Jenna bored. She couldn't move much during the day because of how much her ankles had swelled, so she took to the computer to have something to do. She browsed celebrity gossip sites, motherhood blogs, and shopping sites for something to do, but soon she was on social media sites, including her old Facebook page.
To her dismay, Frank had been messaging her constantly since she left, begging for her to come back with the baby so they could be a family. He knew where she was now because of her mother, and he wanted to bring her back to him.
Jenna knew she should resist. She knew she should block him and ignore his messages, but her heart ached for him. He seemed genuine, and his concerned messages about her health and the baby's made her think that maybe he had changed somehow. Maybe her escape awoke something within him that changed him and made him a better person.
This theory guided her fingers. She responded to a message, then another and another. Soon they were having full-blown conversations just like they did while they dated, and Jenna wondered if she'd made a mistake in leaving Frank in the first place. What if it was all just a misunderstanding? What if he never really was that angry?
After a day of chatting, Frank sent her pictures of a small rental home in Elwood City just a few blocks away. He had moved there when Jenna left so they could have a safer home for the baby. Jenna was pleased, and she wanted to go see the home for herself. Her mother would be working the next day, which would keep her out of the home. Frank could pick her up and take her to see the house, but only for a visit. Jenna needed more time to decide before she fully moved back in with him.
Frank agreed to the terms. He would arrive the next morning around ten, then they would visit the house and go out to lunch afterwards. Jenna agreed to the schedule and returned to her bed for a nap. She was pleased with how things were going, and not one part of her thought this was a mistake.
Muffy arrived at the home and took the short walk to the front door. It opened in front of her, and a smiling middle-aged man greeted her with a light hug. A ping-pong paddle was already in his back pocket, and he led the well-dressed Muffy to a small game room located in the basement of the house.
"Have you played before?" he asked her. Muffy nodded, telling him she played some with friends while she was growing up. The man smiled, "Well, here we go."
He served the ball like a pro, and Muffy barely made it to volley it back to him. He rocketed the ball back in record time, and Muffy could only watch as the ball flew back behind her. She retrieved it and the man laughed:
"You play a lot like my wife. This is going to be a fun night."
Muffy didn't see exactly how fun it could be at first. She kept having to retrieve balls that he had rocketed towards her. She was honestly scared of the ball at first, but after a few minutes of trepidation, Muffy finally got into the game. Their volleys grew longer, and soon they were both having the time of their lives, shooting the ball back and forth like Olympic pros.
After three hours, he wanted to have a glass of wine, so the two retired to the kitchen for their beverage. Muffy had only recently taken to wine, but she was able to hold her own as they sipped glasses of red wine.
"So, how long have you been doing this?" he asked before a sip.
Muffy smiled, "You're my first, actually."
"Hmm, really? Wow, they usually send me girls that have been around for a while. I guess I'm good for the new girls too," he chuckled. "I always ask this question, but it's okay if you don't want to answer. How did you get into this?"
"I came across a friend on a bad day. I needed a place to stay and I told her about my dead-end job. We graduated high school together and grew up together, yet she's graduating law school soon and getting her degree with no debt. I won't be as lucky despite my upbringing, so she mentioned this. I thought it would be a great way to gain my independence from my parents," Muffy explained.
The man shifted, "Your parents? Instead of helping you, they've done what exactly?"
"They pampered me throughout my childhood, then in college, they cut me off completely. I couldn't get a job once I graduated, so they offered to hire me. Now I do grunt work for minimum wage, which isn't enough to get you much of anything in Metropolis. I've been staying in their friends' empty apartments for a while, but I couldn't keep doing that," Muffy said, shaking her head. "I can't keep obeying their every whim."
The man nodded, "Well, this job will give you that freedom. I don't know what other guys want, but I just want a woman to spend time with me who's like my wife. She goes off on business trips or college visits with the kids, and that leaves me here for days by myself. I just want someone to spend time with, and you've done that for me. I'll tell the agency how well you've done here, and I'd love to have you back again."
"I feel the same. You've taught me to have fun again. I haven't been having much fun lately, not for years actually," Muffy smiled. "I'm glad that seems to be changing."
"I feel the same way," he nodded, draining his glass. "Alright, I think I'm done for the night. You can wait outside on the bench by the gate. The stars are beautiful from there."
Muffy was surprised, namely because she had never been able to see the stars anywhere except vacation retreats to the country. She stepped outside after making her call to the agency, and after taking her seat, she looked up. As he told her, the stars were beautiful, and Muffy felt herself smile.
Once back at Maria's apartment, she asked how the meeting had gone. After hearing how nice it was, Maria asked if Muffy would continue the work. She agreed, but she had one reservation: Would she be able to escort her father's friends and clients? That was a question she knew she'd have to answer eventually, and she hoped Anastasia would be understanding. She felt in her heart that she would be, but Muffy knew to be cautious. She'd already been burned multiple times before, and she half-expected that to happen again.
Ladonna was surprised at how well her family treated her circumstances. Within hours of her conversation with Bud, all of her siblings knew about their mother's situation, and they agreed that they should keep their distance if their mother was that bad off. Six hours after that, Bud left to go to the airport in New Orleans, and the following morning, Ladonna's father asked her to meet him downtown. She agreed, and after making sure the nurses had her mother taken care of, she drove to the designated meeting place. It was an office building with numerous suites, so she wasn't sure what her father was planning, but she knew this had something to do with financing her mother's care.
Her father hugged her then led her into an office with a suited man running the numbers on a computer. The two sat in front of him, their voices silent despite the questions raging inside Ladonna's mind. She wanted to know what this was all about. No, she needed to know what this was all about.
"Alright, I've got it now. Your ex-wife had several policies. Two were for life insurance, but one was a special account just like you brought up," the suited man said, looking up with a smile. "Your mother knew that Alzheimer's and other long-term debilitating illnesses ran in her family. She created a special care fund in case it ever happened to her, and the fund can be accessed today to begin paying for her care, pending paperwork from the company responsible. Which company?" he asked.
"Magnolia Springs," Ladonna replied. "They're handling everything right now."
"Is she in the facility or receiving at-home treatment?" the man questioned. Ladonna responded appropriately and the man nodded, "I'll contact their money person and get everything sorted out. Judging by her numbers, she's got twenty years of care paid for, be it at home or in their facilities. She had everything taken care of, but I guess she progressed too quickly to tell you."
Ladonna nodded, "I had no idea."
Her father smiled to Ladonna, and once things were settled, they walked outside. A few blocks over was a small park, so they walked inside and found a bench to discuss the day's events in private, as well as everything else. Ladonna wanted her father to talk first so he could explain everything, which he agreed too. After sighing heavily, he began:
"Your mom told me years ago about the illnesses that ran in her family. Her great-uncle had Parkinson's, her grandmother and her sister Alzheimer's, and all of the strokes and heart attacks. She knew she would face tough decisions if any of those came to her, money decisions. She thought we'd be married forever, and we'd already had a few kids by then, so she started the fund. Eighty dollars a month, no questions, went into that account. And we argued about it almost every month when times got tough because I thought that money could go for something better, like food or clothes for all of you. Now I see why it was so important," he smiled.
"How come none of us ever found out?" Ladonna questioned.
Her father shrugged, "I dunno, sweetie. I don't think she wanted to worry y'all with your extended family's problems. She knew it was all about the statistics. She could end up living forever with no health problems—"
"Or she could get Alzheimer's at age forty-two and go downhill too fast to tell anyone anything," Ladonna interrupted, sighing heavily, "I kinda wish I would'a told y'all sooner now."
"Don't worry about it now," her father smiled, patting her knee, "You did what you thought was best, and you were right that your mother didn't exactly want her business broadcasted. And if it happened as quickly as you say, I doubt you had much of a choice. One day she was probably fine, then the next she wasn't. It's not your fault."
"But it could've been. When the nurses came, they told me they thought they'd have to call Adult Protective Services. They thought I'd abused her, and maybe I was. She'd wet herself and everything else. I could barely get her fed or cleaned or anything. Now they've got it. They fight for me, and I'm so grateful. I should've tried this sooner, so much sooner," Ladonna cried.
Her father shook his head, "You didn't know, and besides, what's done is done. Now you need to let others take control so you can focus on yourself. You're going to finish college, and you're going to live your life. Don't feel guilty about not being there for your mama. She won't know the difference anymore. You need to live your life and accept that."
Ladonna sighed heavily, "I don't know how well I can do that. I've been struggling for so long. It's hard to let someone else take everything I've considered a burden."
"Well, it happens. And I came down here to get this settled and to make sure you re-enrolled in college," her father said. He patted Ladonna's shoulder, "Come on, I'll follow you there," he said, standing up. Ladonna followed him towards a small lot in the center of town. As he wanted her to do, she drove the lead car over to the college. Classes wouldn't begin for a few weeks, but she could jump back in if her classes had room. They did, so she signed up.
After enrollment, her father went with her to financial aid. Ladonna owed money, so he paid using his card. Ladonna was too choked up to thank him, but he patted her shoulder. He knew she was grateful, but he also knew she was suffering. Handling her mother's problems had taken their toll, but he meant what he told her. This was her life now. She could still be her mother's advocate, but she couldn't be her caregiver anymore. It was time to take care of herself, and getting back in school was how she could do that. Ladonna agreed, and she returned home with a weight off her shoulders.
Bitzi spent hours chatting and texting with Richard. She'd rejected every possible date since meeting him, and she knew it was because she was hoping this would finally be the relationship she'd been looking for. She'd waited for years for something better, something more than a bar chat with drinks or a dinner with wine. She needed more than just a one-time thing. She needed Richard.
She didn't realize how much she needed him until Buster called again. He and Palladia wanted to have dinner with Bitzi, and Bitzi immediately wished she had someone by her side to make things more even, and to take her mind off the fact that her coworker was probably bedding her son. She wanted Richard to come, so she told him about the call. She wanted him to join her, but he couldn't make it.
"I'm three hours away, and I have an important appointment that day. I just can't make it. I'm sorry," he responded.
Bitzi had no choice but to face this dinner alone. Two days later, she met Buster and Palladia at a small Italian restaurant just outside of town. It was Buster's favorite because of their pasta bar, and he had finished two plates of two different types of pasta before Bitzi even arrived. For the first time, Buster had found someone happy to watch him eat. Palladia was still working on the small plate of linguine she'd retrieved, and her eyes were locked on her boyfriend.
Bitzi put down her things and waited for the waiter to get her drink order. Then she too got her plate of pasta and returned for what she felt would probably be the most awkward dinner of her life. Buster had asked her to meet his dates before, usually those six-monthers he was dying for her to meet. This was different. He'd just met Palladia, but most importantly, Bitzi knew Palladia, and she knew Palladia very well because of her work. But Bitzi couldn't help but think of how long they'd been together, or rather, how short they'd been together. This dinner was a milestone that Bitzi didn't expect. This dinner was a "Hey, meet my mom," not a "Hey, you two know each other so we all should meet."
Buster finished a large bite of pasta and looked up to his mother, "So, Palladia says you two work together. I didn't know you had any coworkers like her," he winked. Palladia laughed flirtatiously and grabbed his arm. Bitzi battled a wave of nausea that she managed to shake before nodding, a respectful but forced smile on her lips.
"I didn't know you had such a nice son, honestly," Palladia said, returning to her own pasta. "I mean, now that I know who he is, I've obviously seen the pictures of him on your desk. I guess because he looks so much like his father that I couldn't make the connection."
"Yeah, something like that," Buster nodded. "We had no idea until you and I talked on the phone, then you and her talked at lunch. Crazy, huh? It's just such a small world out there. Six degrees, you know?"
"I know," Bitzi nodded, "and it doesn't help things. I'm sorry, but this is just too awkward for me. Buster, you know you don't usually let your dates meet me until much later. What's going on?"
"We're just so in love," Buster smiled, "I mean, Palladia completes me. She's the first date I've ever had that doesn't mind me eating like a pig. She doesn't even like the dishes here, but she wanted to come here tonight for me. And she doesn't mind my apartment being a mess. I mean, she said we'd have to clean it together, and if we move in, I can only keep my man cave messy, but—"
"You've talked about moving in together already?" Bitzi interrupted.
Palladia shook her head, "No, well, yes, I guess we have. We've talked about becoming engaged already. Neither of us have ever felt so right about something before, and we're both just ready to make it official."
"You want to get engaged? Already?" Bitzi asked with a skeptical tone. She shifted in her seat, "Buster, you once dated a girl for two years that pressured you the entire time about marriage, and you went along with her for years. What's different about her? Why are you so eager this time?"
"Mom, we both know Karen was crazy and I only kept her around for the money. That was before I had a decent job," Buster said to Palladia before turning back to Bitzi, "What's different this time is that I actually love her. This isn't some 'Oh, I picked up this chick in a bar and tried to make it work' kind of thing. No, I really care about Palladia and she really cares about me. What more can you ask for?"
"Some more time, for one. Marriage is a big deal, and it's hard to take it back if you decide things don't work. I can't believe I'm saying this, but move in together first, then see how things go. A few years from now, get married or whatever if things still feel this way. But don't rush things. That happened with your father, and look what happened with us," Bitzi said in a low voice.
"But you two just mutually broke up," Buster argued.
Bitzi shook her head, "We worked very hard to keep you from knowing. You need to accept that and drop it, okay? Your father and I broke up for very defined reasons, reasons you shouldn't worry yourself with."
"But it's important to me," Buster pushed. "Look, you've always made it look so easy. What was so bad that you couldn't fight anymore?"
"The women, Buster. The parades of women coming through his life, literally," she said with an eye roll. Bitzi sighed, "He slept with more women behind my back than I thought we had in this town. I wouldn't be surprised if he had kids with half of them with how loose he was, and his career just helped him along. He could have a woman on every continent or every country, and I wouldn't have found out if they hadn't found each other before finding out about me."
"Wow, Dad was a player? But he's always single now. I thought it was because he loved you and couldn't live without you," Buster whispered.
Bitzi shook her head, "No, he could live without me. I don't know why he's supposedly single all the time now, but it's not my problem. I've pushed him out of my life for good, and I intend to keep it that way."
"Well why haven't you found anyone?" Buster asked.
"She's tried," Palladia jumped in. "It's not easy to date ever, and once you get older, it gets even harder. All the good ones are taken, and all the bad ones are worse than you ever expected. Believe me, we've talked about this so many times over lunch. Your mother tries to find companionship, but it's not easy."
"Is that why you don't want us to get married? You're jealous?" Buster guessed, a dark tone in his voice.
Bitzi shook her head, "No, I'm being mature, which I thought you'd be doing," Bitzi said to Palladia, "Why don't you two use your heads? Either way, I think you should keep me out of your relationships, Buster. I had to figure things out on my own and you can too. You'll learn how bad things can get, how ugly your life can become. You'll figure it out all on your own, and I'm tired of this. It's not you, Palladia, it's the principle of this whole thing."
"I just wanted you to be a part of my life," Buster said, noticing his mother was leaving. He thought she was leaving for good, but her response countered his theory:
"I don't mind being a part of your life, just not this part. Call me for lunch with you any time, but your relationships? I don't want to hear about them anymore," Bitzi said, grabbing her purse and leaving the restaurant.
As she sat in the parking lot gathering herself, Bitzi's phone buzzed. Richard wanted to know how the date went, and instead of texting him back right then, Bitzi rushed home and got online. They chatted for hours with him doing most of the listening and her most of the typing. She had to get it out there, and thankfully for her, Richard was a good comfort. He apologized profusely for not being there to help, but Bitzi didn't hold it against him. He was three hours away, and she honestly needed to be there on her own. She just wished things hadn't gone the way they did for multiple reasons. Her son needed her, but now she'd forced herself out of that part of her life. Part of her didn't mind because she had her own love drama, but part of her did in case he did something stupid that she could've talked him out of.
She told everything to Richard, who finally told her to sip a glass of wine while taking a bubble bath. She agreed, and he told her to go to bed right after. They'd talk the next day, and Bitzi agreed. She did as he said, and despite the hectic night, she slept soundly.
Charles was surprised to find his wife at home, but when he discovered her job was history, he immediately grew concerned. Just like Belinda, he knew the house could only run smoothly with two paychecks, and he knew from what few times they had talked in recent months that her job interviews hadn't gone anywhere so far. She was nowhere near having another job lined up, and worst of all, she was fired from her only reference.
After having a family dinner, Belinda and Charles moved to the back porch for a private conversation. Mei-Lin was working on homework in the den, and with a solid patio door between them, there was no chance of her overhearing their conversation.
"So, you had a job interview today right after your shift?" Charles asked in an attempt to get his wife's timeline down.
"Yes, and they called me in the parking lot begging me to come in to help with a trauma. I'm not even a trauma nurse, but I couldn't take it anymore. I had to quit, but I'm sure if anyone calls them, they'll say I was insubordinate and left under their terms, not mine. I just hope the hospital I interviewed for today already called them. That was a good interview, but it won't end up that way if they talk to them," Belinda sighed.
Charles exhaled, "I know who I can call about this. Jerry's wife works in the medical field, and maybe she has someone who wouldn't mind being a fake source if you need it."
Belinda shook her head, "No, I have to do this my way. I know I need to work fast, and…if I can't find anything, I'll find something else in town. I know plenty of people from the restaurant business downtown. They'd be sure to help me."
"You'd rather change fields than fight for your dream job?" Charles asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"No, I'm not giving up on my dream job by switching fields. We need money to survive, Charles, and I don't mind being a waitress again. That's how I got through school in the first place, and I even kept both jobs for a while to help with the house, remember? I know this is the best way if I can't get what I need, and you know it too."
"I just want you to be happy. Are you really going to be happy in a waitressing job?" Charles asked.
Belinda smiled, "If it means spending more time with my family and having the money to support them, then yes, I'll be very happy."
The two held hands and enjoyed the silence of the night, but both of them were quite worried about the future. They had to keep things together, both for themselves and for their daughter. And most of all, neither of them wanted Binky to ever find out about their problems. He could learn about a new job in due time, but he could know nothing beforehand, no matter how sour things went.
Anita and Doria left their lunch date with plenty of plans for Anita's franchise. Things were moving forward with that aspect of her life even if her husband was still in jail. She'd secretly written the judge begging for remand, and while the letter was brought up in court during the bail hearing, James still had no idea the letter was from her. All he knew was that he was angry at the world and lost in his addiction, so Anita had to focus on herself.
After stopping by the shop to do payroll and check inventory, Anita returned home for an early dinner. While she ate a microwavable pasta meal, she got a call from Brain checking on his father. Anita told her son that his father had been remanded because he was a danger to society, a truth that Brain was unable to accept.
"Mom, how bad is his problem? Has he had other charges that I didn't know about?" Alan questioned. Anita assured him this was his father's first charge, but that wasn't enough for Alan to accept, "But he must've been drinking for a while. How bad are things at home?"
"Alan, you've left. Don't worry about what's going on here because it doesn't concern you. If you were to come home and let it concern you, I can assure you that we'd discuss everything. And you can help me with the business again. I'll need managers at my new locations. Doria Walters helped me find a property in Metropolis for a good price, and she's working with her designer to get promotional materials together. If you come home, you can be a part of this," Anita smiled.
Alan disagreed, "I can't come back to Elwood City, not yet."
"It's been years, Alan. What's going on that you can't come back here?" Anita pleaded.
Suddenly the line went dead, and Anita knew her son had hung up. She shook her head as she put her cellphone back on the table and picked up her fork again. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she knew she had to eat if she wanted to get anything done tonight. She scarfed down her meal and tossed her trash. She then moved to her home office, where she had an email from Doria's design contact, Alex.
Anita recognized the name immediately from Alan's school days, but the content inside the email was nothing that she expected. She thought it was an email discussing the details of the promotional materials, but what she found was a warning, a sinister warning that Doria might change things to meet her needs:
I recently discovered through another client that Doria Walters doesn't fear changing things to suit her needs. The other client was a writer, and as you're a business owner just looking for the usual banners, business cards, etc., I doubt she would change things for you. But as someone who wants more for my clients, I thought I must warn you. Please, if you notice anything that isn't what you asked for from me, please call her out, fight the changes. I can only do so much from my position. It's up to you to be the change.
Anita was instantly concerned. Who was Doria ripping off that her graphic design contact, a young man with only some experience, had to step forward and warn her about possible fraud? Anita had no clue who it could be, but she had other problems.
Anita's phone rang, and while she suspected it was Alan trying to finish their conversation, she found it was a call from Elwood City's detention center. Her husband was trying to call, but Anita ignored it. She had nothing to say to him. She wanted to talk to her son, not her husband. In fact, if Anita had it her way, she'd get rid of the husband and go straight to her son. He needed her, but she couldn't help him from here. And James was beyond help because of his issues.
But Anita had to stay put. Her business was growing and changing, so she had to focus on that instead. She was much closer to franchising, and she knew it would be a month or less before she had her second location. Within a year she hoped to have a third, but she meant what she told Alan. She always thought he'd stick around to help, even if it was just an observational role so he could focus on his own career. Now that he was working a dead end job in an urban slum, she wanted him back more than ever before. She had no control over him, however, so she remained with her business. She spent the night finalizing ideas, careful to save her own files for reference points. Alex's email scared her more than she would admit, and she began to wonder what kind of interference Doria had done.
Molly rested her head on her hand as she and Rattles finished a grant request over lunch. This was their third one of the morning and the food was an afterthought. If Molly had her way, they would've eaten something better than salty ramen noodles, which were upsetting her stomach with each new bite. She tried not to appear sick, but the sweat on her brow told Rattles that something was up.
"Hey, what's going on with you? Is something bothering you?" he asked.
"Yeah these noodles. My stomach just can't handle these things sometimes. Way too salty," she replied, pushing the bowl away. "But there is something else bothering me. James got home late the last two nights because of his new job. We haven't even talked about the weather, and I'm starting to worry that I might not get to tell him for a long time. He was supposed to have the weekend off, but he'll have to be at the school's library to get his assignments finished on time," Molly explained.
Rattles sighed, "I know it feels like you won't get to tell him, but you told me in the beginning that you didn't want to tell him anything until you knew everything yourself. Since your doctor hasn't called yet, I think you're making good time. Just wait, and if the opportunity comes before then, take it. I like the idea of waiting until after you know everything. I mean other than the nausea and the picky eating, he probably has no idea you're even sick."
"You're right. He doesn't know about anything, but I'm sure he's seen me hurl antacids down my throat after a meal or go to the bathroom. He asked me a few months ago if I had bulimia, but it wasn't even that bad then. I think that was food poisoning, not anything else," Molly said, exhaling slowly, "but who knows at this point. Maybe I've had cancer for years. Maybe I've always had it and it's just now showing up during the one time I don't need it."
"Life never goes as planned. My wife and I were going to wait to get married, but kids change your perspective. We needed to make things official to make it easier for all of us, so now we're a little family, a family you and James are definitely a part of," Rattles smiled, squeezing Molly's arm, "We're all here for you, even my parents. They've got a few more grants to fill out paperwork for that I can get you for tomorrow. What would you like me to bring over for lunch?"
"Low sodium noodle soups tend to do well, sometimes," Molly added, eying the bowl of salty noodles that she pushed away, "One of the things in my paperwork said I might not be able to eat during treatment. I'd have to go on a feeding tube and get food that way. That is just…it's scary and awful and I hate it already because I know they're right."
"With the treatments they have now days, that's a temporary problems. In a year, you'll be finished with your treatments and you'll be eating medium-well burgers with me in town," Rattles grinned.
Molly swallowed down a bout of nausea and shook her head, "Not for a long time."
A moment later the phone rang. Molly felt herself grow pale as she studied the number. Her doctor was calling back with her results, and it wasn't good. Her stomach lining was littered with cancerous cells, cells that had spread to form tumors around her stomach and esophagus. He wanted to do chemo and radiation, a process that would take eight weeks total. She'd start the following Monday with the chemo, then Tuesday with the radiation.
When he was done with his spiel, Molly asked the one question she didn't necessarily want the answer of, but she knew she would need it for her brother when she told him:
"Doctor, what's my prognosis?"
"I say you've got a sixty-forty chance. I think the cancer has been there for a little while now, maybe six months or so, but it doesn't seem to be growing at an alarming rate otherwise you would be in much worse shape. As long as the treatments take, you shouldn't have anything beyond the usual symptoms of nausea and vomiting. If the treatments don't take, well, that's when things get complicated. With your age and history, I think you will be able to have the treatments and face a good recovery. Don't worry about anything else until I tell you, alright?" the doctor asked.
Molly agreed, but as soon as the call ended, she was sobbing in Rattles' arms. He made it sound like she had a chance, but Molly was still terrified. She could die from this, a painful, terrible death that her baby brother would have to watch. Their mother had already died, luckily not in front of them, but losing her was enough pain. He didn't need anymore, yet here she was with cancer.
Rattles tried to soothe her, "It's okay. We'll get through this, I promise. And we'll get everything paid for so you don't have to worry about a thing. Just finish school, finish treatments, and get to work."
"I already have a job. Oh god, I have to tell them too," Molly choked, her body rocking with sobs.
Rattles smiled, "You'll have to tell some of them, but you don't have to tell everyone. You only have to tell who you want to tell and no one else."
Molly nodded. She knew she could probably keep her diagnosis a secret, at least until the chemo caused her to lose her hair. Then she'd need a wig, an excuse, or honesty. She preferred the wig, but she wasn't there yet. Now she was coping with the diagnosis, and she knew it was going to be a long few days.
Prunella couldn't help but look at job listings. Now that she had decided her job was too much, she needed an escape, and there was plenty available to her. There was an advertising firm just blocks from her house that needed an office worker. She wasn't sure what their tasks would be, but she debated on calling anyway. It wouldn't hurt to interview for the position or at least inquire about it. Asking questions wasn't a full-on commitment.
As she looked at other local listings, she realized dozens of local businesses needed help, and many of them focused on things Prunella liked or felt passionate about. She looked through the listings and immediately felt uplifted. She had a way out. She just had to reach out and grab it.
So she submitted her résumé to the advertising firm near her house and waited for a call back. She was still focused on her current job—she sent in the attached document in an email from her desk at work in between double checking designs and sending out a contract edit to a client. As soon as she finished with her desk work, she was back up in the office, making her rounds to ensure everything was running as smoothly as possible.
Now that Rubella was in treatment and out of her hair, Prunella could easily multitask during her daily life without feeling distracted. She knew Dr. Mano had everything covered, and Rubella's diagnosis meant there were lines of treatment to try. As long as she was in the hospital and not roaming the world, Prunella didn't have to worry about whether or not the treatment was working. That was someone else's problem, not hers, and it felt good to feel that level of freedom.
After a quick lunch a local deli, Prunella returned to the office and worked with a vigor she forgot she had. Deciding to change jobs lightened her mind, helping her sleep and reducing her hallucinations. She felt fully sane, fully available to the world, and she loved the invigorating surge through her. Her coworkers thought she was acting normally, and that's exactly what Prunella wanted. Now that a few days had passed since her very public hallucination incident, she was glad that no one could remember it, and she was even more grateful that none of them were watching her closely, studying her for another incident.
When her day was done, Prunella returned home and relaxed with takeout Chinese food and a good magazine that she'd been meaning to read. It was celebrity gossip, something Prunella cared very little about, but it was an escape from her current reality. She appreciated every moment, and when she was done with everything, she slipped into bed for a relaxing night of uninterrupted sleep.
Marina could feel the rift between her and Anthony even if she couldn't see his scowls. Others started to notice, and during breaks, Marina eagerly told everyone about their split over her choice to fight for the school's survival. When word spread that she had a plan to save the place, people approached her wanting details, but Marina couldn't say much. She was still waiting on her meeting with Mary Simmons, who was coming that following weekend.
When her week was over, Marina dutifully checked her personal evening. A little after eleven on Saturday morning, Mary let her know she was in the area. Within the hour, Mary was at her house, and after standard greetings, Marina put on a kettle for tea and sat with Mary at the dining room table.
"Alright, I've been looking through available grants here in Massachusetts, and there are actually some available from some of the groups that give to Elwood City University and Community College. I've printed out their standards and started on the work, but I've also looked into something bigger," Mary smiled, barely containing her excitement.
Marina begged that she continue so she did, "I've been looking into some national grants because they tend to give more money for longer amounts of time, especially for education. While most prefer we seek local solace, I've found a federal grant specializing in education for the blind or visually impaired."
"A special grant especially for us?" Marina asked.
"Yes, and this is fairly common. Massachusetts has their own groups, hence how I found the ones Elwood City University used because they recently expanded their resources for disabled students of all types, not just the blind. Some states have more or less, but honestly, this state is right in the middle. I don't know why the school's executives haven't tried anything before this—"
"Wait, they haven't?" Marina interrupted.
Mary exhaled, "I thought you'd react like that, so I did some last-minute research on the plane. The leaders of your school don't seem fully involved. The school was started by their previous generation, a father for one and some uncles for the others. They were probably thrown into the business, and they've let it falter because the profit isn't that good."
"That's terrible," Marina scowled. She instantly felt sick. If that was true, she was probably better off working for a guy like Anthony's father, who was starting to sound a lot better than these guys. Marina looked up, "Has anyone tried to buy them out recently?"
"Yes and no," Mary hesitated, pulling her tablet out of her purse. The kettle whistled behind them, so while Mary looked, Marina put together their mugs of tea. Mary found what she was looking for, "Hmm, interesting. It seems one of the teachers has a rich parent in the education business. He tried to buy them out at the start of the school year, but the school's Board of Directors refused the offer."
"Anthony?" Marina asked.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"He offered me a job with his father, but I worried they would be…well, less than accepting. I mean, I know it's going to be hard for me to find something else in my condition around here. This is the only school for the blind for miles and miles, and I'd love to stay close to home. Maybe he was right about his father having genuine intentions. Maybe I burned my bridges with him for no good reason," Marina whispered, sinking into her chair with a hot mug of tea between her hands.
"Well, maybe you should've looked them up online. According to this, Anthony's father is missing his right eye and his left is quickly succumbing to the same degenerative disease. He's a rich man who gets it, not that you'll be needing his offer anyway," Mary grinned. "There's a stipulation with several of these grants that failing schools get taken over for a while. If they can get rid of the current guys in power, you won't have to worry about this happening again."
"You're right. They won't have to run the school in the ground because they won't be around to make the decisions," Marina murmured. She could hear what Mary was saying and react to it, but her mind was still on Anthony and how she'd treated him.
Mary sighed, "Well, I'll be in town for three weeks, and that should be all I need. I work quickly, and these grants should go through just as quickly. All of their deadlines come at the end of the school year at various points in May, so everything should go fast. I'll keep you informed, but I'd like you to help spread the word. Let people know what we're up to and keep them together. We'll need the teachers working together if we're ever going to make this work."
"I can do that," Marina nodded, stirring her tea. She was deep in thought, something Mary noticed. She decided to head back to her hotel for the time being, but she'd remain in touch, not just for the work but to make sure that Marina was really okay.