CHAPTER EIGHT
Jane flipped through a magazine as Kate looked around the waiting room. This was their last appointment with her doctor before her surgery date, and though she was happy to be checked out of school early, sitting in the room made her nervous. She eyed the art on the walls, then the pamphlets beside her covering the various disorders her orthopedic surgeon dealt with, and finally her eyes fell on her mother.
"You okay?" Jane asked.
Kate shrugged, "I guess. Are you sure I really need the surgery? It doesn't hurt as much anymore as long as I don't run or jump or something stupid like that."
"But you haven't had gym this semester, and you'll have gym again in the fall. It's better to get it now and start the physical therapy than to show up here in August or September in complete agony needed surgery ASAP, right?" Jane argued.
Kate sighed, "I guess. I just don't really want to go under the knife. DW said I'm going to have weird dreams or something, but she listens to weird music, so she would say something like that."
Jane closed her magazine and set it beside her, "What kind of music does DW listen to?"
"She likes metal now. She used to be really into pop, but ever since she got held back in tenth grade, she started listening to metal. She said if the school is going to treat her like some sub-par citizen, she's going to act like one. She told me she's saving up for a Death Moo concert," Kate grinned.
"Death Moo?"
"They're her favorite band. When I found out I asked her what was up with cows since she was in love with Mary Moo Cow when she was younger, but she stopped talking to me. She doesn't really talk to anyone anymore, but all of her friends graduated without her. She feels really bad about that. I think she wanted you to pull her out of school to do homeschooling or something when she got held back," Kate said.
"Did she really say that to you?" Jane asked. Kate nodded. Jane sighed, "Well, we just couldn't do that. She's not the only one who's been held back in the middle of high school. And we pushed her to work on her grades. She swore she couldn't do it, but now she's set to graduate. I think she figured out the lesson without special treatment."
Kate shook her head, "I don't know. I mean, her grades improved, but she's so different now. I don't want to talk to her, but she sometimes comes to me. I think she's jealous. She told me I have it so easy, but I don't see us as being that different. I have to go to tutoring after school if I want to do well in math, and now I need surgery. I mean, even if the surgery works, I could still jack up my knee again in gym or something. She doesn't have that problem, and I'm okay with being the only one, but I wish she would stop feeling so sorry for herself. I don't think she has it that bad, but she swears she does."
"How dark does she get?"
Kate shrugged, "Again, we don't talk, but she told me people who think suicide is the answer are stupid. That made me feel a lot better because I was starting to wonder. She told me about some guy online who approaches her a lot and tells her to kill herself. I told her to block him, but she told me she lets him talk to her because he's funny."
"Kate Read?" the nurse called.
Kate smiled, "I think she'll be fine once she's out of high school and out of the house."
"She wants to move out immediately? Into her own apartment?" Jane asked as she picked up her things and followed her daughter back to the exam room.
Kate shrugged again, "I don't know what she's planning, but she's got rent jars all in her closet filled with loose change. I mean, she's always had those, and they used to be for other things, but now all of them say RENT except for one, and that one is covered with Death Moo sticker patches."
Jane nodded and took her usual seat to the side of the exam table. Listening to Kate talk about her sister comforted her, but it gave her a new problem. Kate's upcoming surgery, plus David's overall behavior, meant they could all find out about their father's problem soon. If DW found out their father was addicted to pills, how would she react? Jane realized now that DW didn't really need help beyond the typical support a teen needed. David needed something, and he needed it sooner rather than later.
Jane needed to call Thora. They needed to stage an intervention or something to get through to him. He needed help, so they needed to find a way to get him that help as soon as they possibly could.
Francine's new "pot" arrived within a few days, and she immediately put it in her office. She had it set to wirelessly transmit to her computer at home, which was connected to a storage device that Catherine helped her purchase. Francine would still have to be picky about what footage she kept, but she had it angled to get only the best footage—the camera was facing her layout desk, specifically the part of her he liked to grab the most.
Later in the morning, she found herself at the layout board to choose photographs for her section. As she adjusted her choices and their order, she heard someone step into the room. She turned around to see Samantha with a box of her things in her arms. Her mascara stained her cheeks, but currently her eyes were dry. She had a determined look as she eyed Francine.
"What happened?" Francine asked.
Samantha smirked, "He really messed up this time. I'm going straight to the hospital. He raped me, and I'm going to file charges. Thanks for opening my eyes, and spread the word. I want the whole world to know what I've just gone through," she said, throwing Francine a card with her number on it. She then left the office, using the elevator on her way out.
Francine was stunned. She knew Thornton was grabby, but would he really force himself onto a woman? Fear gripped her, and for an hour, Francine sat at her desk and piddled as she tried to get her thoughts together. When lunchtime came, she asked the girls to a pizza bar all the way across town. They agreed because Francine was adamant, though all of them wondered why they would leave the vicinity of the office for something as silly as pizza.
Once the women were settled around the table, Francine dropped the bombshell without warning:
"Samantha walked out this morning. She said he raped her," Francine said sternly.
"What? He's only touched the rest of us. Why would he do that?" one asked.
Francine shook her head, "I thought the same thing, but she said she was heading to the hospital so she could file charges from there. She's going to pursue them, and I just don't know where this is going to go. I think she just escalated things without meaning to. We're not ready to go after him yet. My camera just arrived today."
"Like that'll help if he decides to go after us. I think we should all head for the hills if these charges don't work. I mean, he could get a not guilty verdict—"
"For a good reason," another coworker interrupted, leaning forward, "Samantha is the type of girl who would coerce him into having sex, then she'd cry rape just to get him in trouble. I'm sorry, but that's just how I see it."
Francine shook her head and sighed, "I hate to admit it, but you're right about that. Samantha has always gotten her way. That's why I approached her before everyone else, because I thought she'd be onboard with changes. Now I think she's too onboard. If she did lie, she just opened a can of worms that we might not be able to deal with."
"I'm not sticking around if things get worse," one coworker said, and the others quickly agreed, as did Francine. They couldn't stay if Thornton was going to get worse, so they would just have to try to get things done from afar…or run and cut their losses.
After another shift at the Greasy Burger, Fern decided to return home as if things were normal. Her intention was to work on her latest project, but as she sat down at the keys, she found herself stuck once again. She tried rereading the last few pages, studying her outline, and other techniques that used to work in the past, but she found herself at a loss.
She was concerned that she'd possibly lost her touch. She was okay with her situation at the moment because her reviews were out there, and Alex's fake accounts had rated them. Together they were going to make an impact, and she was content that the public would turn on her mother eventually. That meant she needed to develop a new project or finish her current one.
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She had writer's block because pressure was mounting. She was technically a published author now despite the circumstances, which meant she needed a sequel project to make herself look better, to escape the miserable reputation she was about to acquire. Her next project had to be the best thing she'd ever written, and Fern knew this once-secret thought was the cause for her block.
The problem? She had no idea how to fix it. She tried the moment after this thought to start writing again, but she froze. The words refused to come, and she had no idea what to add next even if the words did appear magically from her fingertips.
Fern began to panic, but she didn't want to bother Alex with her problems. Instead she decided to focus on her project. She checked her journal and discovered the next identity and account. She began the process of creating the account and making it seem real. She faked several reviews for some books she read during high school and put them on the account, then she put it aside to post her real review for her book at a later time.
Fern did email Alex the information for the account, and he too agreed to follow it after a few days to make it more realistic. Fern thanked him for his help, and despite the nagging feeling to tell him her problems, she kept it to herself. Her problems had been her own for so long, and despite the connection they'd forged over the last few days, Fern still felt like Alex was one of those friends by force brought to her by specific circumstances. If he wasn't the graphic designer her mother always turned to, she doubted they would've come in contact at all, let alone started this campaign in the first place.
Fern sighed as her mother announced dinner. Fern plastered on her best "Everything is perfectly fine" looks before heading downstairs. Once there, she found takeout boxes from a local meat and vegetable restaurant. Fern stared at her plate as her mother began ranting to her father about how her life was going:
"So Anita decides to start arguing with the printer because I made her designs better, and they both claimed trademarks or something. What the hell? I've never had any of my clients approach me with such nonsense. I don't know what's going on, but someone told her to look for flaws. I need to go after that doctor's office that rejected my pamphlets. They asked for the work to add to the deal I made for them, but all they've done is complain, complain, complain ever since. I bet they told Anita something," Doria hissed as she stabbed at a piece of grilled zucchini.
Fern's father kept eating in silence, and Fern knew to be quiet as well. Fern knew who Anita was, and she also knew that Alex was probably working on her promotional material for her new location. He'd told her that he warned someone else about her mother's work, and Fern's mind put the pieces together. Alex gave Anita the heads up, and worst of all, she found her mother's edits. Fern wondered how long her mother had been doing this as her mother broke into another rant:
"And you know what else happened today? Someone demanded a refund on Fern's book. They read it and hated it, then they told me the online reviews agreed. We self-published! Who's out there leaving reviews? I refused. I mean, five bucks is five bucks, and I told them the money was going to Fern. They said that was fine as long as the low-life editor didn't get a penny. They know I edited the book! I could see it in their eyes! And online reviews? Pfft! I doubt I'll find anything if I Google this book, not that I'm going to. Why is Elwood City full of a bunch of liars now? I thought this was a decent place to live, but these people are monsters!" she ranted.
Fern was stunned. Her reviews were making a difference somehow, which was great, but the community also realized something was up without the reviews. This caused a wave of happiness to flow through her, but she needed to hide it.
Fern closed her box and moved it to the microwave as her mother continued to complain about their neighbors. Fern returned upstairs, and this time she did contact Alex with this new information. He too was elated, but they both knew their work wasn't done yet.
After reading Alex's response, Fern decided to try to write again. The words wouldn't come so she went back to the top and started reading. She wasn't getting inspired to add anything, but she did begin to realize that this piece was a viable option for her real first-published book, and she hoped that would ease her writer's block when she tried to write again.
Sue Ellen was attempting to work on assignment when Pierre contacted her. It was late where he was, at least eleven o'clock, and he too was working on a project. He begged Sue Ellen for help, but she refused:
"Look, I've got my own assignments that I have to get done today. I can't help you with yours. I couldn't even do the work while I was there. What makes you think that changed the moment I came back here?" Sue Ellen asked with more force than she expected.
"I don't understand how you can get a higher education in America but you can't get one in France. What's the difference?" Pierre spat.
"There are tons of differences. French schools are harder in general, and jumping into grad school all of the sudden made it even harder for me. I thought you knew that," Sue Ellen whispered. Pierre shook his head. Sue Ellen sighed, "Well, your schools are harder and I couldn't handle it. That's the main reason I wanted to come back, and I thought I made that clear to you."
"I thought you were scared. A lot of Americans have left in the last few months because of the terror attacks and the threat of terror attacks. I thought you might be one of them or that your parents might be involved."
"No, they were both happy for me to be there, or at least I thought so. You know, maybe that's why my mom has been asking me about school so much lately. Maybe she or Dad is scared that I could get hurt over there. I should ask them, but I'll do it later. I have a lot of work to do here, reading in particular. And I'm sorry I can't help you," Sue Ellen added.
"It's fine. I should've listened to you better," Pierre smiled. "I won't ask you about school work again, but I don't mind continuing to help you financially. I want us both to be successful even if you're in another country."
"Thank you. I really appreciate it," she said kindly. Pierre nodded and ended the call.
Sue Ellen sighed and eyed her assignment. Suddenly her parents and George came to mind. She knew a conversation with her mother could take hours, so she decided to look at George's contact info. Next to his email he had a star letting her know that was the best way to reach him. She sent him an email telling him what she'd just discussed with Pierre. George's response was almost immediate:
"I'm so glad you two worked things out. I think we both thought he was being really sketchy asking you for work. I can't believe the money is legitimate though. You're so lucky."
Sue Ellen nodded. She was quite lucky, but she knew her lies still brought up a unique problem. She needed to ask her parents why they were suddenly so concerned about her education. Were they scared for her? If they were, her move was a good one, but she still had to be careful with the subject. Her parents might want her home, but finding out she came home without telling them might make them angry. She'd continue to take things one day at a time, not that she had much of a choice. Her assignments were piling up, and she had more work to do than she ever expected.
Jenna's initial thoughts about Frank's new home were instantly erased. This was not a beautiful small home where they could build a life together. It was a prison, and the signs were there before she even set foot in the house. She should've noticed the small bedroom he said could make a good nursery had a lock on the door, one that locked from the outside. The windows were barred throughout the house, and because of the new construction, there were no loose boards. Once she was locked in that room, she was stuck there.
The only comforts he allowed her at first was a stack of orange contractor's buckets and a thin, worn mattress on the floor. The room was colder than she preferred it, and the bed was highly uncomfortable because of her condition. She changed positions what felt like every fifteen minutes, but she knew she was stuck here indefinitely. Frank was furious that she'd ever thought of leaving in the first place. Now that she was back, she had to be punished.
Jenna studied the room and realized he wanted this to be hers and the baby's. He had put a large bear sticker on the wall across from the windows over where a crib could go. A box of diapers sat in the corner, mostly empty but there were still some inside.
Even with these attempts at creature comforts, Jenna knew she had a tough decision ahead of her. She could easily kick Frank out of the delivery room at the hospital, if he even took her, and while he was gone, she could tell them everything. She could get away from him with her baby and attempt to live happily ever after having learned her lesson about him and his behavior. He didn't want her back—he wanted to control her once again, and she'd walked right into his trap.
The more Jenna considered this option, the more she realized she likely wouldn't have much of a say if Frank threw his weight around in the delivery room. The one thing she could do was to make sure her baby had a way out. She'd have to give it up for adoption, and she'd have to make sure Frank didn't resist the effort. This might be his kid, but Jenna felt he didn't deserve the baby or her. She just wished she'd realized that twelve hours earlier so she wouldn't be in this situation. Lunch was a mistake, seeing the house was a mistake, and not rushing inside when she was at home was a mistake. She could've run away then, but she her mind was clouded.
Jenna shook her head as she studied the room. The bear sticker was a nice addition, and she wondered what it would say if it could come to life. She daydreamed about the possibility while rubbing her pregnant belly, a tiny smile on her lips.
Muffy stepped into her office and knew immediately that her date kept his word. Ed was screaming into the phone to the man's secretary begging to know why he'd cancelled the contract. The woman assured him that a handwritten letter explaining his choices was in the mail, but Ed wanted a verbal answer right now.
Muffy tried to ignore her father as she looked at her stack of work. She had files to put away, copies to make for an important meeting later in the day, and she had several emails and phone calls to respond to within the next few hours. It was a never-ending cycle that drove her crazy, but she knew she had no choice, despite receiving her first check from the agency the night before. It was more than she expected it would be, and it was far more than she made in a single paycheck from her day job.
She wanted to do her night job full time, but she knew she was needed here at the moment, not for the horrible work she was doing, but for the entertainment of watching her father freak out because of a contract she helped convince a client to break. It was her date that put the final nail in the coffin that now contained that contract, and she knew the handwritten letter he was sending would explain everything, particularly Ed's poor treatment of his children.
But she couldn't focus on the fruits of her effort. She had mounds of work to take care of and zero time to handle everything before the work was needed. And since Ed was already in a horrible mood, she knew any errors on her part would make her the target of his screaming. So she picked up her copies and moved to the copy room to begin her work.
When she stepped inside and started her first round, she heard someone step in behind her and close the door. Muffy turned to see her brother standing there, a sly look on his face. Muffy turned back to her work, but it was soon clear that Chip was here to talk to her.
"So, how long is it going to be before Dad knows you were at that party last night on a date with the guy he's pissed at?" Chip asked.
Muffy grinned, "It wasn't a date, but more importantly, it's none of your business."
Chip laughed, "You weren't on a date? Then what was that? You probably had plenty of time to hear about that party and get there to have freaky fun time with a client."
"With a client, yes, but you've got it completely wrong. I suggest you stop worry about my business and start focusing on your own. If you mess up today, Daddy might fire you on the spot," Muffy reminded him.
Chip shook his head, "You're the one who's going to get fired when he finds out."
"He cancelled the contract to help you as well," Muffy whispered. "He didn't like how Daddy treated us, and meeting with me last night only confirmed his fear. He didn't want someone handling his business that mistreats his kids. That's why he cancelled the control, and my whatever you want to call it with him didn't truly effect his decision. I think he would've cancelled either way."
Chip scoffed, "I'm still going to have a little chat with him. If I can get ahead, maybe things will end up better for me. You can just find something else to do like they've wanted all along."
"They treat you the same way and you know it."
Chip shrugged, "So be it, but I'm more perseverant than you."
Chip left the copy room and Muffy shook her head. She couldn't understand her brother, not that she ever could in the first place. He was just so much older than her, and Muffy knew it was best to ignore him and focus on herself. She double-checked her first copies to assure they were perfect, then she started on the next round. She focused on her work, and though she was worried her father might get rid of her, she knew now that she had a way out, even if it was questionable.
Ladonna's family came through with the security system. A few days later, the morning nurse needed to miss a few hours to handle a family emergency, and Ladonna acted on her free time. She called the company and they installed the cameras within the hour, leaving with plenty of time to spare. Ladonna checked her systems and knew they were functional, and with that peace of mind established, she knew it was time to seek out a job.
Ladonna's schooling was for business, but she didn't want a job in her field quite yet. So she peeked around the classified ads and drove around the downtown square. After some debating she found herself at a bakery and boutique on the square that had a HELP WANTED sign in the window. She stepped in and was greeted by a bubbly blonde about her age. Ladonna was shocked to see that a girl that young had her own business and could produce such beautiful goods, but she knew to keep her head high and make her purpose clear.
"How may I helped you today?"
"I noticed the sign in your window and wondered what kinda help you needed," Ladonna replied.
The girl smiled, "Oh, we finally have someone brave enough to come in. I've had that sign up for about a month now, but no one wanted to come in. I don't know why, of course, because it's rather simple what I need. I'm running two businesses at once, a cake-baking business and a boutique, and I could really use someone to help run the boutique so I'm not running around like a chicken with her head cut off," she smiled. "Do you have any retail experience?"
"I was a bag girl at a store in Elwood City. That's up in Massachusetts," Ladonna said.
"I recognize you now. You're one of the Compson kids, but I couldn't tell you which one. Well I didn't even know y'all were back in town."
"Well it's just me and my mom. My siblings and my dad are still back up in Elwood City. My parents divorced, so they quit doing things together, and I just wanted to come back home for college—"
"And how's your momma doing? She used to love my chocolate cupcakes, remember?"
Ladonna blushed, "Actually I don't quite remember. I feel like I should—"
"I'm Beverly Smith. I used to babysit y'all, well namely the youngest two. You're Ladonna then. I see the recognition on your smile," she grinned.
"Wow, I can't believe I didn't recognize you. You haven't changed a bit," Ladonna said, shaking her head, "Momma did like you cupcakes, but she wouldn't let us have any. Bud and I were a little hyper."
Beverly laughed, "I bet he still is. Look, I trust you. If you want the job, it's yours. I know you'll be a hard worker, and I don't think you'll be swiping from the till."
"I have a request, if you don't mind. Momma has Alzheimer's now, and I've got some cameras at the house to make sure things are going okay. You don't mind me checking in on her or reading for my homework or anything like that, do you?"
"Of course not, as long as you help with the customers. Wow, your momma has Alzheimer's already? That must be terrible. If you ever need anything, just ask me, and if you have to leave all of the sudden, I'll manage. I've made it this long," Beverly grinned. She looked Ladonna over, "You can probably help me with my catering too if I need it. You look strong enough."
"I can probably help you, no problem," Ladonna nodded.
Beverly smiled, "Good. We'll work out everything when you really start. Is Saturday good for you?" she asked. Ladonna nodded, and with that they departed.
Ladonna made her way to the college for her next class. She was happy to have a job already, but she was worried now. Beverly knew everyone in town, and now she'd blurted out about her mother's condition. She didn't want pity or sympathy or people dropping by unannounced with casseroles or cakes or whatever else they decided to bring. She didn't mind the community supporting her, but she knew how the place was, and she didn't want all of that.
But she couldn't focus on how that conversation had gone. Her first class came with a pop quiz, so Ladonna remained focus on her schooling and the material she was supposed to know from her homework. She had no idea if she'd do well on the quiz or not, but Ladonna knew she had to keep her grades up. This quiz was a sneak peek into her progress. If she did well, she was fine. If she didn't do well, she needed to work on herself. That would be hard to do, but if she needed to work on herself, she would do her best to make that happen.
Bitzi was working on a project at home in order to complete it for a special Friday edition. She was putting the finishing touches on the last paragraph when she got a text message from Richard. Bitzi ignored it at first. Their last conversation had tense undertones because she was questioning him again. She didn't think three hours was too far away to meet someone you were starting to get serious with, and while Richard tried to argue his case, he had to admit that he and Bitzi were getting closer. The text conversation before that was filled with romantic emojis and sexual language. Bitzi was shocked when she read back over the conversation. She had just sexted with a man she didn't know, so when they spoke again, she had to meet him. She needed to meet him, but he refused.
Now that he texted back, Bitzi wanted to know if he'd changed his mind or thought of another excuse. She finished her piece, saved it, and closed it out without looking it over. She'd look it over later when it had sat a while. Right now she needed to look to see what Richard had said, and if his mind had changed.
'Baby, you're right. 3 hours is nothing nowdays. I want to see you, but I can't go right now. I'm going to ask my boss about something though.'
The text cutoff and Bitzi saw the second part was in progress. A moment later her phone buzzed in her hands and the message was completed:
'There's a seminar in Metropolis that he wants me to go to. Maybe you can come too?'
Bitzi smiled. This was exactly what she wanted, and she felt her heart pound in anticipation. She'd never felt this way, not in a long time. Yes, it had been a while, but no, it wasn't her first. She felt the same way before her first concert, which brought her face to face with a musician she'd crushed on for most of her teen years. This felt exactly like that, and Bitzi was eager to respond:
'I can do that. Just tell me when and I'll tell you where. There's a rib place you have to try.'
'Sounds good,' he replied. Another message arrived a moment later, 'I'm sorry I upset you. I've never done this before.'
Bitzi laughed, 'Neither have I. I just wanted to see you to make this real. I don't mind the distance. I mind not knowing you.'
Richard agreed, and Bitzi could sense that things were falling into place. They began another one of those sexual conversations, and she found herself desperately wanting a man's company for the first time in decades. She dated a lot, yes, but she rarely fooled around. She grew fearful that she and Richard would meet up for lunch and end up in an alleyway somewhere.
She blushed at the thought but then another one came to mind. She was still worried that he was a catfish, and if he was, this seminar rouse could be just that, a ploy to convince her that he was trying to get there. He'd then cancel last minute, apologizing profusely and probably offering up some horrible excuse to twist her emotions in his favor.
Bitzi scowled as a sick feeling entered her stomach. She hated the idea of Richard not being real, of him being some figment of a sick person's imagination. She knew she needed to be careful, and thinking of the possibilities in today's world was one of the ways she could be careful. But she had to be positive too. Maybe he was weary of travel, both from the moving around itself and the anxiety of going that far from home. Maybe he was very much real, and maybe they would end up in an alleyway or a dark corner of a parking deck—
Bitzi's phone buzzed and the next message nearly sent her over the edge. She excused herself to her bedroom, the fears of catfishing out of her mind as human urges overtook her.
Belinda picked up the phone expecting a rejection. It had been a solid week since her supposedly good interview, and not only was the job listing still up on their website, but they hadn't contacted her. She'd refrained from inquiring about the job on her own because she'd heard stories about the boss himself being a little touchy about desperate-sounding nurses. He was a temperamental man, so when she saw the call was from his office, she thought she'd missed getting the job for some other reason.
But it wasn't a rejection. They accepted her, and they needed her as soon as possible to do hiring paperwork so she could start immediately. Belinda was grateful, and after stopping by to do her paperwork, she picked up dinner from one of the family's favorite restaurants and headed home with the surprise. She found her husband digging around the freezer when she arrived, and Mei-Lin was neck-deep in the pantry trying to come up with ideas. Her face lit up when she saw the familiar bags, and within moments, they were gathered around the table digging into their dishes.
"So, what's the special occasion?" Charles asked after chewing his bite.
Belinda grinned, "I got the job."
"Wow, Mom, really?" Mei-Lin exclaimed. Belinda nodded happily before sharing a kiss with her husband. Mei-Lin gasped, "Does this mean you'll finally be home more so I can see you more often?"
"Yes, yes it does. My hours will be from eight until three, so I can take you to school and pick you up if you'd like," Belinda offered. Her daughter was eager, and Charles was quite happy with this change:
"Hmm, that means I can go back to my old schedule and come in with everyone else. My boss will be quite happy with that, if I tell him. I could also sleep in now and just stay at work a little later on days when I'd normally have to leave early," Charles smiled, a childlike expression on his face as he realized the freedom his wife's flexible schedule gave him. "This is really great honey. When do you start?"
"Monday morning, bright and early," Belinda replied, pausing to chew a bite of food. When she was done, she looked up, "I'll be getting an extra five dollars an hour because of my experience and commute. They surprised me with that today when I got the paperwork finished. I'll be making a full fifteen dollars more."
Charles shook his head in disbelief, "Wow, that's amazing. Does anyone back at the hospital even know what happened?"
"No, but I've been meaning to call Shayna. She was one of my best friends out there, and I'd love to know how things are without me around. I think I'll do that after we eat. Oh, and maybe we can go out for ice cream after I get paid or something. I need to tell Anita the good news and I'd rather tell her in person," Belinda smiled. Charles nodded but Mei-Lin whooped for joy.
After finishing, Belinda excused herself to the guest room with the family's cordless phone. She dialed Shayna's cell and caught her just as she was leaving the hospital, which meant she'd worked an extra two hours beyond her shift despite having a four-year-old at home with her sister.
"Hey, Belinda," Shayna sighed, "Girl, you just don't know what you missin'."
"That's why I finally decided to call you," Belinda admitted, sighing heavily herself, "I just didn't want to know, but I need to know, and I need to tell you about my new job."
"Unless they've got something for all of us, I don't wanna hear about your new job," Shayna said harshly, "That's what you're missing. They said all of us weren't good enough, so when the hospital merges next month, we're all being replaced. And we didn't even know about the merger. I even called the newspaper and they had nothing on it."
"You're kidding!"
"Girl, I wish I was. I got a baby at home and I could have another on the way. I go to the doctor next week. I can't have another kid, not right now. You know my man can't carry four people on his paycheck and with his problems," Shayna said, shaking her head, "If I am pregnant, I'll have to give this baby up or go back home. I can't go back home right now."
Belinda thought about Shayna's situation and agreed. She'd met her on-again, off-again boyfriend six years ago. Two years in, she had Calvin, and things had been tense since then between them. He wanted to be in his son's life but enjoyed drinking and smoking too much to really dedicate himself. So Shayna moved to Elwood City to be around her extended family and to get a job at the hospital. If she went home, she'd have to deal with a mother who was strict and hard to deal with, plus her judgmental siblings with better lives. No, she didn't need to go home, but she needed a new job, as did everyone else in that hospital.
Belinda sighed, "When I get started, I'll see what they have for you, even if it's something small. I know they won't mind a pregnancy because I saw two nurses today that seemed to be carrying. I'll help you make this work as best as I can."
"Good luck. And I'm sorry I'm being so hard on you. Everyone says he fired you—"
"I quit. He was trying to get me to work a trauma," Belinda corrected.
Shayna was taken aback, "A trauma? You're not trained for that, and we haven't had one in a few months now. They always get taken straight to Metropolis, usually by helicopter."
"Exactly. That's why I said I couldn't go in. I'd just finished my shift when they called, plus he was going to lie to get me to come in? I just couldn't take it anymore, and I'd already been looking for jobs. I was starting to get desperate so I looked at some local things just to get some money. You know, I can talk to the woman who owns the Powers Ice Cream Shop for you."
Shayna laughed, "No, I can't work around ice cream. I'm allergic to peanuts, remember?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot," Belinda said, shaking her head, "I guess I forget since I don't see Binky much anymore. Well, I tried, and I'll keep trying. I'll call you if I come up with anything. You just keep me updated."
"Okay. Well I've gotta get home to Calvin. My cousin is watching him and I know she's got homework," Shayna said.
The call ended, but Belinda sat there thinking about their conversation for twenty more minutes. She knew things were bad at the hospital, but she had no idea they were this bad. If they replaced everyone, fifty-plus people would be out of a job, and people from out of town would probably be pulled in to replace them. It was unfair for everyone involved, and Belinda wondered what she could do about it.
After a day of making sure her promotion items were completely right and doing paperwork, Anita found herself home alone again. She ate some takeout alone in her usual spot at the dining room table, but eating at the center of all those empty chairs made her feel lonesome. She was beginning to regret handling her husband's situation the way she did. His lawyer did manage to contact her, and she did decide to finally call her husband. He was drunk again from jail hooch, and Anita was just frustrated.
She was equally concerned about her son being wherever he was. She felt like she needed him right now, to help her deal with her husband's issues as well as her business, but he was off with his own problems. She was worried about what he was doing and if he was safe, but she was growing ever more concerned about whatever was keeping him away from home in the first place. She didn't think it had anything to do with her or her husband, but something was keeping him away, something big.
Anita was at a loss, and she shook her head as she thought of his situation. He'd done fine in school, and when he first went off to college, he was doing great. The first three years were easy, he said, but the fourth was a struggle because he had so much to do in order to prepare for graduation and graduate school all at the same time. Anita remembered him working out everything on his own because that's how he wanted it, so she and James stayed out of it. They went to his graduation and that was about it. He wanted them to do nothing more, nothing less.
He came home that summer and seemed even worse. Anita wondered if the thought of graduate school was getting to him. He worked afternoons at the shop, but he spent his mornings working to save up money or going off to do something for the process. He was private with his comings and goings, which she didn't mind, but now she wondered if something happened during that time. He showed no signs at first. He wasn't particularly eager to fly to school, but he left anyway to start the next phase of his life, as he called it. It wasn't even a month later when he called to say he was fine but he couldn't take it anymore. He was going to Chicago for the weekend to see a Cubs game and have some food at a restaurant she'd never heard of. The next thing she knew he was stuck there by his own choice, working some minimum wage job and living in some tiny apartment he said was just fine.
Anita sighed as she tried to fill in the gaps of the story, but she couldn't get his side. She'd tried looking up his old friends online, and while she had befriended them, she'd yet to drum up the courage to ask any of them what was up with him. She'd thought of asking Sue Ellen, who was often with him at graduation school prep events despite her going to France, but she knew the girl was away and she didn't want to bother her. Then she thought of Arthur or Francine, but they both looked so busy online, if they were online at all.
After cleaning up her dinner, Anita settled at the computer and checked Facebook. There were mostly posts from her community of contacts, but she did notice a post from Alex the graphic designer. He was doing a personal project and showed off his work. Anita liked it because it was very good-looking. She smiled as she realized his potential, a smile that quickly faded as she realized how many people had it better than her son, and it was all because of his own choices.
Ten minutes online was all it took. Anita went on her son's abandoned Facebook page and looked through his list of other friends. One stood out to her, Lydia Fox. Every few weeks for what looked like years, she asked where he was or what he was doing on his wall. Anita wasn't friends with her because she'd forgotten about her. She'd met Lydia when they were in elementary school, but she thought Lydia only met her son through special events. As she looked over her son's page, she realized they'd kept in contact somehow, probably online.
Anita sent the request, but she was tired of being online. She pulled a book from the study and took it upstairs. The reading didn't calm her mind, but she almost didn't want to be calmed. She couldn't fix her husband's problems. His trial would get here soon enough, then the judge could decide what to do with him. But she could do something about her son, and she hoped Lydia would be the way to do that.
Rattles sighed, "So you finally just laid it on him, huh? I know that must've been hard," he said, shaking his head as he took in another fry. He and Molly were eating takeout after her first treatment, and while she'd gotten a kids' chicken nugget meal, she could barely eat from the anxiety the treatment caused. She was self-conscious about the black sharpie marks covering her chest, so she wore a black denim jacket buttoned to the top despite the heat in the room.
Rattles looked up to her distant eyes and reached out to touch her hand. She pulled away, "Yeah, I told him like I was supposed to, and I told everyone at work and at school. Four weeks until graduation, four weeks," she whispered, shaking her head firmly. "No one could believe it. The professor I told started crying. She had to leave the room."
"That must've been hard to look at," Rattles said softly, returning to his fries.
Molly nodded, "It was. I was told later that I'm her first sick student. She's been doing this twenty years, and she has this wall of photos of girls killed in car accidents or boating accidents, and one even committed suicide when her boyfriend dumped her or something. I don't know their stories, but I could tell by the look in her eye that she didn't want to have me up there as cancer girl, graduated then killed by a heartless disease."
"I'm sure she wants the best for you just like everyone else. That's why she was upset. She knew you had a tough fight ahead and she couldn't handle thinking about it," Rattles smiled, but his optimistic approach was quickly shot down:
"No, I could tell what she was thinking. She told us her mother died last year. She died from cancer, and she told us that all of them died from it, her mother and her aunt, even three uncles from the same side, all dead from cancer. She's terrified for me, and while I'm kinda worried too, I just don't feel like this is the end. I don't know how well I'm going to fight through this, especially if my anxiety keeps me from eating before the chemo makes me nauseous all the time," Molly said, pushing her food away with a hint of anger. She looked up to Rattles, "I know I'm going to get through this somehow, but I know I can't lie to myself once things go too far. I'll have to make plans for James and how I want to go. That's the part the makes me sick and makes me want to fight. That's the part I'm reacting to, yet some people don't realize there's a fight. They think this is a death sentence when it's not."
"I never once thought it was a death sentence," Rattles said, cracking a smile, "You were the toughest girl I ever met for so long. Now I know my wife, and you know what I like about her? She punched my arm when we met, just like you did all those years ago. I know what kind of spirit you have. Remember, I was there for you when your mother was killed, and the only reason I didn't go to the trial was because of school."
"That's the only reason I didn't go," Molly murmured, "and I had to work so I could get a place for James and me."
"See, you're a fighter even in the worst possible situation, and I know that. That's what I always loved about you. See, Binky and I could never admit how much we liked you. We opened up to each other one night in high school. I'd nabbed a six-pack from a guy's house and we were drinking up at Moon's Landing. I know it's usually for couples, but Binky and I knew we could go up there without being disturbed. He started telling me how much he loved you but how scared he was to tell you, and I laughed and told him the same thing. We both loved you, but we agreed it was best to leave you alone. You always hated his belching and my messy hair," Rattles grinned, "I mean, you would've whipped us into shape if we dated, but it would've been rough. We might've lost our friendship too."
"Yeah, we might've," Molly blushed. "I went through phases where I liked you guys too, but I couldn't mess that up. We were teenagers then, our hormones making tsunamis in our stomachs. I couldn't let those tsunamis take out my best friends because I am pretty hard on guys. And I don't date now because I see no point, especially now," Molly sighed. "I need friends, not lovers. Friends take care of each other no matter what, but lovers could leave over the stupidest things. I had a guy dump me once for asking for his jacket. The joke was on him. I wasn't even cold. I just wanted to test him, and I was right," she smiled. "I never had to test you or Binky or Slink, any of us, because I knew you'd be there for me. And if I knew where Binky was, I'd call him."
"Same here," Rattles agreed. "Maybe we should visit his mom one day. I'm friends with her online."
"So am I," Molly nodded. "Let's invite ourselves to dinner sometime to see what she says."
Rattles agreed before tossing his trash, or attempting to. His wadded burger wrapper bounced off, and Molly shot him a look. He threw it away without thinking, then he asked what she needed. She wanted a nap so he left her alone. He drove home and thought about what he needed to do at home. His wife asked about the dishes three days ago, so he walked into the kitchen. The dishes were done, but a wadded up burger wrapper was still on the floor by the trashcan. He picked it up and tossed it in the air a few times, catching it each time. He put it in the trash and pulled out his phone. He told his wife he'd do better. She was still pissed about him not helping out, but he knew his words had merit. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Molly could lose her fight, and he needed a way to keep her spirit alive. He didn't want to think like that, but he knew it was a possibility, and so did she.
Prunella got a call the day after her interview at the car dealership letting her knew she'd gotten the job. So the day after that, she secretly brought in a stack of ready-to-fold boxes. When the office cleared out that night, she packed up her office and carried everything out to her car. On her keyboard was a legal pad covered in notes about her responsibilities. There were pages and pages of procedures and passwords, things her coworkers would need to know about the position. She'd spent the day writing it down, but there was one last thing she needed to do.
As she sat in her driver's seat ready to go, she called the district supervisor, her boss. After seven rings and two attempts, she answered with a worried tone. Prunella assured her things were fine, for the most part. She dropped the news like an atomic bomb—I won't be coming back to work and you're on your own.
The woman immediately tried getting Prunella to stay, but she wouldn't hear it. In fact, she hung up the phone, turning it off as soon as she could and tossing it into the backseat, where it bounced off a headrest and landed on top of a stack of books she'd brought with her from home. Tonight they'd go back on her bookshelf along with her other trinkets, and anything she no longer wanted would go in the trash. It was time for a completely new start, and she didn't need to bring useless things with her despite getting a new desk at the dealership.
After a dinner of a personal pizza from a local pizzeria, Prunella spent her night doing as she planned, a process that took an hour total. Three of her boxes remained packed with paperwork, and she pushed them to the back of her closet to collect dust. Then she got online, where her email lit up with desperate pleas from her now former boss. News had spread to the other employees as well, as they were also desperately seeking her out on social media. She ignored them all, moving over to YouTube and watching several funny videos before finally deciding to go to bed.
She knew her decision was rash and nonsensical, but Prunella felt in her heart she had to do it. She needed a new job and a new start, and she doubted her new position would have the stress her old job had. No, she'd be free now, and she hoped she could finally sleep soundly at night without fear of, well, anything. That would get her symptoms to subside without medical intervention, at least that was her hope. She doubted a new job could erase any mental illness she may or may not be developing, but it was an attempt, a way to keep her from turning out like her mother and sister.
Marina found Anthony in the teacher's lounge by himself early the next morning. She could tell he was making coffee from where his sounds were coming from, and she knew he was trying to speed up because his stirring was wild and caused him to splash his hand, making him wince in pain.
"Anthony, can we talk? Please?" Marina asked. Anthony stopped stirring and sighed. He owed her a chance to say something, so Marina took it, "I need to explain something to you, something about me that caused me to react the way I did to your offer."
"It was a good offer, but I take you're still not considering it?" Anthony questioned defensively.
"No, but only because I want to see if this place has a chance. If I said anything about your father, you need to know something about me. I only know one other person in his tax bracket," Marina said tactfully, hoping she was saying things as well as she could, "I grew up with a girl who went to Lakewood Elementary, Grebe Middle, and Elwood City High, and she introduced me to another girl that went to those schools, Muffy Crosswire, Ed Crosswire's daughter," Marina said, exhaling, "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"You've only been around the kind of disgusting rich guys you see on television that are actually real?" Anthony guessed. Marina nodded. Anthony shifted his stance, "That makes sense. People know my father, so I thought you would know him too and be proud of the offer. I realize now that you wouldn't know him, not if you—Well it doesn't matter," he said, looking up, "I'm the one who's been an ass here, and I should be apologizing to you. It's really not an attack on his character to reject the job, even if it came out that way at first. And I wondered what you were up to. You're not applying to jobs like the others or telling your students strange things."
"No, because I'm talking with a grant writing friend of mine who's trying to help save this place. But there's a problem."
"What would that be?" Anthony inquired.
"If we get the money, it might be too late. Grants take a while to process and award, and the school could be gone by then, so there'd be no one to get the money to. She was wondering what private buyers had gone after the place previously, and that's how I heard about you again. Your father tried to buy this place," Marina said.
Anthony nodded, "He did, but he was rejected with the force of an army, a unanimous decision by a rigid Board of Directors that wanted far more money than he was willing to offer up for this place."
"I think he should try again now that things are a little different," Marina offered. "I want to help too, if I can. I mean, the grants could still be his if he needs them."
"He might need them," Anthony nodded, "and that could help him raise the price. Look, how would you like to discuss the matter with him over dinner? I can pick you up and take you over to his house or something, then we can talk business."
Marina smiled, glad that her apology had gone so smoothly, "That sounds great. I usually eat around six most nights. Just call me ahead of time. I'll get you my number later."
He agreed, and the two parted ways as their day began. Both felt better now that the air was clear, but they both needed to handle business now. Determination burned within them as they mentally prepared themselves for the battle ahead.
While she wasn't surprised to see her daughter's car in the garage, she was surprised to see the key on the worktable. She knew then exactly what had happened, but a walk upstairs didn't quite complete the story she had in her head. She realized her daughter was gone, but she thought she had taken her things with her. The house was entirely untouched, and that worried her.
Carla checked the phone and realized no one had called, so she began looking around the house again for signs of her daughter. She tried to remember where she said she'd gone, but all she told her mother was that she was meeting a friend for lunch. Carla didn't think anything of it. Now that she was home, they'd seen plenty of people they knew around town, and she'd been talking to people online. She could've even met with one of her new coworkers in an attempt to get to know each other before Jenna got to work.
She thought over the possibilities, but her maternal instinct told her to check her daughter's computer to find out exactly who she was planning to meet for lunch. She wiggled the mouse and the screen came to life without a password. Carla was a little surprised that her daughter wasn't more secretive, but she was grateful for the lucky break. She pulled up her internet and found her last conversation on Facebook via private message.
'I'm ready when you are,' she wrote.
Carla looked at the identity and her stomach hit the floor. Her daughter was talking with Frank, her ex, and had agreed to meet with him. She backtracked through the conversation and realized he was taking her to see a house before their lunch date, his house, in the Elwood City area. He wanted to start a new life with her and the baby if she'd let him, and while Jenna seemed closed at first, providing only one- or two-word responses, soon their messages were longer and more endearing, signs that she was willing to go back to him despite what she described as an abusive situation.
Carla was sick. She had no idea where this house was, where Jenna had gone for lunch, or anything except that she'd met him elsewhere, a parking lot near the house that Jenna often used to meet up with friends before road trips, at least back during high school. Carla thought of going there to find out if anyone saw her daughter with Frank, but she knew it would be a fruitless effort. Her daughter was gone on her own accord, and despite the sinking feeling in her gut that her daughter was being mistreated again, without an address, she could do nothing, and neither could the police.
Carla went downstairs and looked out the front window, hoping to see her daughter come home. She would see no such thing and she knew it, but that's not why tears started to fall down her cheeks. She remembered the baby, whose gender they wanted to wait for. Jenna wanted to make up a name on the spot as soon as she met her new child, and she wanted so much for them. Because of her stupid decision to go back to Frank, Carla knew she'd never meet that child, if it even made it into the world. She'd seen plenty of movies and television shows to know this was the worst possible scenario, but like so many of those victims' families, she was completely helpless.
A/N: So I decided to add in Mrs. Morgan, who I've named Carla just because, to the piece so we can see things from her perspective while Jenna is away. Because these chapters are already quite long, I'll try to keep add-ins like this at a minimum, but we'll see how things go in the future.