CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jane was attempting to get some work done, a troubling task even with her husband out of the house and in rehab. Five days later, she'd averted more questions from DW, who was still skeptical about her story. The good news was that she was apparently keeping her mouth shut. Kate had no questions, but she also had more worries. Not only did she have finals, she had a surgery to mentally prepare herself for, and that was the task she struggled with the most.
As Jane finally finished some paperwork that had bugged her all day, Kate emerged from the bus and slowly walked into the house. Jane met her in the kitchen and handed her a bag of M&M cookies, her recent favorite snack. Jane eyed how many they had left and decided to snag one herself and join her daughter at the table. Kate struggled to open the bag, but soon she was inside and devouring one of the delicious bites of goodness.
When she was done chewing, Kate looked up solemnly, "Do I really have to have this surgery? I don't really have that much pain in my knee, and I just don't want to be put to sleep."
"I can assure you the people putting you to sleep and performing your surgery are trained professionals. It's going to hurt when you're done because you'll have to build your strength again, but I have faith that you'll be perfectly fine. Before you know it, the surgery will be a distant memory," Jane smiled.
Kate tried to smile back, but Jane knew it was only because she took in another cookie packed with M&M's. Kate was worried, and Jane knew she was entitled to her worry. Surgery was a big deal at any age, especially when you were so young. Jane understood, but she also had bigger things on her mind. She was worried about David, namely his recovery process. Was he doing any better?
When Kate went upstairs to continue studying for her finals, Jane went into the master bedroom and locked the door. She used her cellphone to call Thora, who was in charge of keeping track of David's progress. She was the only one he was allowed to speak with outside of the facility, and today was his first phone call.
Thora answered on the first ring with a sigh. Jane squinted, "Is everything alright, Thora?"
"Yes, yes, sorry. I'm just working on a new recipe for dinner and it's not going very well," she sighed. "I bet you're calling to see how my call with David went. Well, it never happened. I called the facility and hour ago but got a busy signal. So I went online and saw that phones were down in a few blocks around the area. Apparently some contractors sliced the buried lines."
Jane shook her head, "Well, I guess they'll get fixed eventually so we can get word about him. I just wanted to know how he was holding up."
"I know, I know, but I have some gossip for you about the facility if you're interested," Thora said with the tone of a trickster. Jane decided to let her continue even though she wasn't very interested. Thora grinned, "I was thumbing through the Sunday edition and found out a recent DUI suspect was able to take a plea deal. If he went into the facility, that could count as his complete sentence. Would you like to know who it was?"
"Sure," Jane lied, though she was slightly interested now. Who in the area had been arrested for DUI lately that she knew? Jane couldn't remember, so she let Thora do all the talking.
Thora smiled and spoke with a bright tone, "Do you remember Alan Powers? His father was arrested for DUI and now he's there with David."
"Wow, I didn't even know he drank. There was a party once with spiked punch and he adamantly refused it," Jane said with a shocked tone.
"I'm just spreading my knowledge. Sarah called a few hours ago and told me a little about it, but she wanted me to find out for myself. She knows I get behind on my papers when I'm busy," Thora said, sighing, "Shoot, it's boiling over again. I better let you go."
The call ended before Jane could protest, but she didn't mind. She didn't want Thora to hear the relief in her voice as she realized another wife and mother in the community had the same gut wrenching problem of an addicted husband who was willing to break the law to continue being himself.
Francine and the girls met up at an abandoned car wash near the police station. Once they were there, they drove in a convoy to the station, meeting up again at the entrance to the station closest to the downtown parking deck. In a pack, they wandered through a long, empty hallway before coming to the desk. The receptionist, a tired-looking woman with dark hair, didn't seem surprised and led them to an office upstairs. Once in the lobby there, a detective they didn't recognize divided them up. Francine ended up with him, and she eagerly told her story.
While the detectives took notes, Francine wondered if this would do any good. Thornton may or may not have raped Samantha, and while he was guilty of groping them and making comments, Francine wondered if any of that was really illegal. Maybe HR needed to know first, not the cops.
But the task was done. When they were done, the women met up at an Applebee's up the street. All of them ordered drinks and sipped them as they snacked on a shared appetizer. The mood was grim, and Francine realized they all had the same reservations. Because Samantha acted on their own, Francine's plan to retrieve evidence using secret cameras and microphones ended before anyone could get any cold, hard evidence. While Francine didn't blame her, she wanted to know the truth about the situation. The others probably felt the same way, but Francine wouldn't share with them either way. She needed to know for herself, and promising secrecy was the best way to get Samantha to talk.
An hour after they finished eating, the women trickled out of the restaurant. Once she was alone in her car, Francine pulled up Samantha's cell number and called her. She answered after two rings, and after some convincing, she agreed to accept Francine at her house. She texted her the address, but Francine didn't need to call her for directions. She was staying in her old apartments, which were now outdated and used as cheap housing for young families trying to get something more. Maybe they'd always been that way, but Francine wasn't sure. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she ascended to the second floor. Samantha was waiting with the door open, a mostly full glass of red wine in her hand.
"If you want any wine, I'll have to disappoint you. This is my last bottle, and I won't be going out until tomorrow, maybe later. A bottle a day doesn't do much for you, but I need it right now," Samantha sighed, eying Francine closely. "You smell like jail."
"We went to the police station to tell them our stories without HR peering over our shoulders. They wanted to question us about Thornton, but we had to lie at the office. I mean, we didn't have to, but we all ended up feeling that way," Francine sighed. "We had dinner and drinks to recover, but it's still surreal."
"You look like you're doubting yourself too, or something else. Did you come here to ask my about my story?" Samantha asked.
Francine nodded slowly, adding, "I just needed to know for myself. No one else has to know either way. It's not their business."
"It's not yours either," Samantha said, taking a sip of her wine and looking up, "but I don't blame you for having doubts. This isn't the first time I've been groped at work. I learned from my mother than dressing sexy in the office might start rumors among your peers, but you tend to get promoted quicker than the others. You might have to take on advances or touches or dinner invitations, but if you play ball you often get the power you need. It takes time though, too much time."
Samantha shifted and looked up to Francine with sad eyes, "I had to do what I did to put an end to him. He has gone after women sexually before. I knew it because a friend of mine used to work there. She warned me because she knew my methods, but I didn't listen despite the evidence staring me in the face," she smiled sadly, pointing to a photo on the wall, "That is my friend, and that child came from Thornton. I've told her to join in on the charges, but she was paid hush money. It was under the table, so I told her he couldn't sue her, and if he did, a judge would probably listen to her story, but she's terrified. So are the others. We know of three, but there have to be more."
"So you coerced Thornton into having sex with you so you could cry rape?" Francine whispered, almost choking on the words.
Samantha smirked, "Yes and no. He was too forceful. I think that was his intention anyway. I was alone in the office for the first time in months, and he was grabby last time, so I let him think he was in control. But I didn't want to do it. I still feel disgusting, and it still hurts. He's a mad man in bed, Francine. How he hasn't been charged before is beyond me."
Francine nodded, satisfied with Samantha's responses. Francine knew she was just doing what she had to do, and she promised to keep the story a secret. Samantha thanked her before seeing her out and getting back to her glass of wine. She sipped it as she listened to the noises of the apartment, a withdrawn look on her face.
Fern easily found the house she was supposed to be looking for. Judging by the cars parked randomly along the street for the last block, the small house was going to be crowded with people. Fern gulped at this. If there were a lot of people here, then maybe her mother wronged far more people than she'd ever known about. She felt she had no choice but to join them though. Somehow Doria found the guile to betray her neighbors, and after all these years, she finally became despicable enough to betray her daughter.
Sure enough, the house was surrounded by cars, and when Fern rang the doorbell, the eyes of at least thirty people turned to greet her. She was the last to arrive, but the stares were sympathetic. Of all the people Doria had gone after for her own gains, Fern was probably the one they all felt the most sorry for. She may not have lost her life savings in a bad property, but she'd lost the trust of the one person in the world you should always trust, your mother.
"I'm glad you came," the woman smiled, stepping out of what Fern suspected was the kitchen. She introduced herself as Maryanne Simms, and Fern nodded to her before accepting a chair that had been reserved for her. Half of the adults in the room were standing, drinks in hand, wherever they could find some space, yet Fern was given a chair with several feet of clear space around it. She was the guest of honor.
"I almost didn't come," Fern admitted, "but I've been working with the boy that designed my covers. I haven't told him about this meeting, but I wanted to see what would happen first. He's been honest with me. He told me about some things, and he said he's even warned some people about my mother. Seeing you all here now, I see why he needed to do that."
A woman somewhere behind Fern on her right scoffed loudly, "This is only a few of us, and most of us are here for your book more than anything. Maryanne and I are one of only a few of her bad business deals. I think we'd need a ballroom at a hotel for all of us to fit."
Maryanne saw the look of horror on Fern's face and nodded, "Yes, she's wronged plenty of us in the community with her business ventures, but it's your book we've come together for. All of us here have read it, and all of us agree it's not your work. She butchered it, and we wanted to do something about it."
"Well, that's why I've been working with my friend. He suggested I write letters telling publishers my situation and who all would buy a fixed book. I haven't heard back yet—"
"We have," Maryanne interrupted, passing her a large white envelope. Fern noticed the seal in the return address corner. It was for one of the most profitable publishers in the world, not just in the country.
Fern opened the envelope as a hushed silence filled the room. Somehow the dozens of people crammed into the small house's living quarters remained quiet as she looked over the details. While they would ask an editor to look it over, they would make zero changes without Fern's approval. Most of all, they were willing to distribute her book nationwide, but they were going to start in Elwood City with a very public signing. Five hundred copies would be sent to the local bookstore, and Fern would be asked to make an appearance to promote the book.
When Fern was done reading and looked up, Maryanne smiled, "I already called them about one little thing. There won't be just five hundred books. I've asked for five thousand, and we've all agreed to badger our Facebook friends to help us get those five thousand sold. Preorders already have twelve hundred covered, and we expect that number to rise."
Fern was nearly speechless, but she managed to choke out a mousy "Thank you" to the group. The gruff woman from before shook her head, "No, thank you. Doria is going to look like a monster when we're through with her. We know she's your mother and all, but it's time she learn a lesson about screwing people over, especially her own daughter."
Fern nodded in agreement. She still had no idea what all her mother had done to members of the community, but she knew what she'd done to her. Helping your daughter publish a book on your own was a good choice, but changing it to suit your own needs while pedaling it out to the same neighbors you've spent years tormenting was wrong. Doria needed to be put in her place, and Fern didn't mind helping. She agreed to spread the word, so after enjoying some light refreshments, she jogged over to Alex's house.
She found him working on a project for the local library, a project he set aside as soon as Fern entered the door. His mother had let her in, and she couldn't get the words out fast enough to tell him what was happening. He was happy for her, but he knew what they had to do. They would go online and drum up support for her book. That meant drumming up support for Doria's enemies, but neither minded anymore. It was time for her to learn a lesson.
Sue Ellen took a deep breath as she got off the bus. She had tons of studying to do, and the duffle bag she was carrying her books in was causing her wrist to throb. She had a short walk to her childhood home, and she used the walk to plan her speech, which helped her forget the pain of carrying such a heavy load.
As she turned the corner, she noticed both of her parents' cars were in the driveway. She took a deep breath as she studied them both. It had been so long since she'd seen either car or the home itself, and she finally allowed herself to take in one of her favorite places in the world—home. She felt a smile on her lips as she skipped up the steps. She rang the doorbell and heard her mother call out that she was coming. Moments passed, and Sue Ellen knew from the sound of the sink that she'd caught her in the middle of something.
After waiting patiently, the door finally opened. Sue Ellen's mother put a hand to her mouth as she looked her daughter over. She took her into a tight hug as she called out for her husband to join them. He argued at first, saying he was on a conference call with some very important people, but she told him the news. The call was ended abruptly, and soon Sue Ellen was pulled inside the entryway so both of her parents could hug her at once.
"Oh, Sue, we were so worried!" her father exclaimed, "I was just on the phone with a friend of mine in Paris, well, video chatting him, to see what he could do to get you home. I had no idea you were already here!"
"Well, we need to talk about that," Sue Ellen said. Her parents agreed, but they had to go into the kitchen. Her mother made smoothies while her father dipped a plate of something from a casserole dish on the stove. It was one of her favorite meals, a foreign dish her mother learned years ago, and Sue Ellen refused to speak until she'd finished her plate and the smoothie.
Then she told them the truth from the beginning. She told them the French classes were much harder, and while she'd managed to pass at first, this semester was beginning to look hopeless. She desperately wanted to get back home to her own university, and after examining her funds and talking with the university, she realized she could get home and afford to keep herself up until she found a job. Then a friend offered to pay for everything, a French friend she now believed to be a victim of the terrorist attacks, and now she was worried about getting a job because her studies were a lot more tiresome than she expected.
When she was done, her mother smile with a tear in the corner of her eye, "I wish you'd told me sooner that you didn't share my dream anymore. You used to talk about it so often as a child that I thought you wanted to get a degree in France. You should've told me you were miserable."
"I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but things got desperate recently, and now I think it's a good thing. That friend might've invited me to the concert that night or to the café. I don't know where he died, but his Facebook has all of these messages asking him to rest in peace," Sue Ellen said, sighing heavily, "and I knew then I made the right choice but I had to speak to you, in person, about what I had done."
"We forgive you wholeheartedly, and that saves us a lot of trouble, but you've made more for yourself. What if this hadn't happened? How long would you have kept it up?" her father asked.
"As long as it took," Sue Ellen admitted, "With Pierre paying my bills, I would've been free to focus on school and my studies. I would've gotten my degree in the same time as my French one, then I could've gotten a job without either of you finding out. I hated to do that, but I thought it was best because I knew how much you wanted it."
"Well I forgive you, just as your father said, and we can help you. Send us your bills now that Pierre is gone," her mother said, "and we'll cover them, all of them, until you're done, but only if you promise to come home whenever you can."
"I promise," Sue Ellen nodded, standing so her parents could hug her again.
With that out of the way, Sue Ellen's father pulled her into his office to ask more about this Pierre character. Sue Ellen explained the strange situation, and her father listened intently. Then he asked for a full name, which Sue Ellen gave him. A moment later, he pulled up a list of the dead from the attacks. All of the names were released now, including ages. While there were many names on the list similar to his, and while there were many in his age bracket, none of them were an exact match.
Sue Ellen was confused, "How could this be?"
"I think he lied for whatever reason. Maybe you should check his page again," her father suggested, so she did. The results were the same—everyone thought he was dead, including family members. Her father sighed, "Well, it's a good thing we came along. We can cover your bills now instead, and that's much more fitting for a young woman even in these strange modern times."
"I agree. At first he wanted my help with his work," Sue Ellen grinned. "I told him finally that's why I left. I couldn't do the French work, not even after long nights of espresso gulping."
"Well, this is better," he smiled. "You're home and away from so much danger, and you're doing what you want to do, and that makes us happy. Are you staying the night?"
Sue Ellen agreed to stay until Sunday night, and her parents were happy to have her. They were pleased to have their daughter back, but all of them agreed that they needed to look more into this Pierre character just to make sure there was no danger.
Jenna knew this time was it. She was sleeping beside Frank, who'd allowed her in the bed only after she pleased him. He was all the way on the other side of the large mattress now snoring loudly, but Jenna knew this was it. She turned over to touch him, to get his attention, and when she did, a flood of wetness came. Jenna knew what that meant. Her water had broken and they needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
Frank didn't want to wake up, and he tried to slap her away. After his second swat, another contraction came that caused Jenna to cry out. Frank knew then what was happening, and like a dutiful boyfriend, he grabbed some clothes, his own first and then a small bag of hers, and then helped her to the car. He sped through Elwood City's streets clocking seventy in thirty-five's, but no cops stopped them.
Once at the hospital, Frank went to park the car while nurses took Jenna up to the maternity ward. On the way, Jenna demanded he not be allowed near her, that she be on her own in the delivery room no matter what he said. No one argued with her, and soon she was in a gown in her own room, the door closed and a curtain pulled so no one could peek in.
Jenna squeeze the railing on the bed as pain swept her body. While her face contorted and she sometimes cried out, most of her fear was for after the birth. Her plan was already working. Because Frank had disappeared to park the car, she was able to make her wishes known, and as she hoped, the hospital was listening. Frank was arguing outside. She could hear him through however many walls were between them, but she knew it was him, and he was mad to be excluded.
But finally, the cries stopped. A doctor came in with a pair of nurses. They had told Frank to go home, so he did. They would call him with news, which Jenna agreed to, and she would be the one to call. The plan was set, and the doctor examined her. She was only four centimeters along, so Jenna knew she had a while to wait.
For hours, contracts made her cry out, but Jenna refused any medicines. She knew what would happen after the birth, so she wanted to experience the pain to help solidify the memory of this moment. It was the worst pain she had ever felt in her entire life, but she knew every moment would be worth it as long as everything worked out.
Almost a day later, the doctor confirmed what Jenna's body was already telling her to do—it was time to start pushing. Another hour passed as Jenna labored, sweat pouring from her body. Every ounce was worth it when Jenna heard that cry, soft at first then a roar, a shout to tell the world I AM ALIVE.
Jenna smiled as the baby was put on her lap and cleaned. She was allowed to cut the cord herself with a nurse's help, then the baby was taken on to be weighed and have her little footprints taken. Jenna was happy it was a girl, but she knew not to get attached. She lay back and cried, but these tears weren't necessarily happy. She was happy the baby was healthy, yes, but she knew what she had to do next.
When the nurse approached with the little pink bundle, Jenna shook her head, "I can't. I can't keep her, and it'll only hurt more if I hold her again."
The nurse nodded and returned her to a plastic basket to the side of the room. It reminded Jenna of a plastic container like you'd put junk in, but she pushed that thought away as she called the nurse back. With tears in her eyes she went forward with the next part of her plan:
"I want to give her up for adoption, but can you call a specific person first?" Jenna asked. The nurse nodded without speaking. Jenna grinned, "Call my mother. You can tell her everything, but I can't have her knowing where I live. I just can't do that to her or myself. I don't think I can leave yet, but she can."
"I'll see what I can do. A social worker will come in, and they'll know how things work. Because she's family, it shouldn't be that hard," the nurse said. Jenna felt relief. She knew she was making progress, but there was one last thing to do.
After being moved into a small recovery room, Jenna was seen by the doctor one last time. Jenna asked if she could lie to her boyfriend about the baby, and the doctor and nurses agreed that whatever she told him was her business. So, when she was alone, she made the call. Frank answered on the first ring.
"How is she? How is my baby?" Frank demanded.
"It's me, Jenna. I—I—The baby didn't make it," she sobbed, using her pent up emotion from putting her baby up for adoption to make the tears come. She became inconsolable, and Frank bought it. He was upset about the loss, but Jenna knew it was about the possession aspect of their relationship. He was upset that he'd lost something else that he could control, but Jenna knew what she was doing. That would keep him from treating her too badly for a while, but most of all, her baby would never have to know her dreadful father and his abusive ways.
Muffy was sitting in the living room staring out over the city when Maria came in. It was mid-morning on a work day, and Maria studied her carefully before taking a seat nearby. A distinct buzzing was coming from the room where Muffy slept, but both girls ignored it.
"So, why aren't you going to work?" Maria asked as she pulled off her shoes and rubbed her aching feet.
A devious smile formed on Muffy's lips, "I'm quitting, but I haven't thought of what to tell Daddy yet. Besides, I need to call my new boss and tell him I'll take the job. You know him," Muffy said, turning to Maria, "and he's got something good worked out. I'd be a fool not to take him up on the offer."
"Your client offered you a job? Wow, I'm happy for you," Maria smiled, genuinely envious of her friend. "I have good news too. My exam was finally scheduled, so I go in next week to take it. I could be a real lawyer soon, and then I'm going to open my own business and put all this escorting behind me. What about you? Are you going to stop?" Maria asked, moving to a couch across from Muffy and looking her over.
Muffy smirked again, "I haven't decided. He said I still could, and I've been enjoying it so far. We'll just have to see what happens since I'll be traveling a lot. Maybe I can find someone who does international gigs."
"Oh she does, through contacts of course," Maria replied, looking out over the city, "It's different elsewhere. Some of the places say it's illegal unless it was planned elsewhere, but you'll learn the rules. I can't believe you picked it up so quickly. It took me a little while to be so comfortable with it, and even now I still struggle. You're a natural, I guess, but you have a little more motivation. I just need to get to my dream, but you need to get away from the people on the other side of that phone."
"And most of all, I need to get back at them for treating me the way they did," Muffy said with a dark tone, looking over the city, "Metropolis and a corporate job were my two dreams, and while Daddy gave me those dreams, he also ruined them in the same instant. My new boss knows that, and he already ended his contract with him. Now that he's doing more overseas, he'll be getting Daddy that way too. If I keep up what I'm doing and spread the truth about my father to his other clients, I can continue to hit him where it hurts."
"I forgot how determined you could be," Maria admitted, remembering their school days. Muffy had calmed down before high school, and even before middle school for certain situations. Now she had her old spark back, and Maria knew this wouldn't be good for Muffy's family.
And they knew her choices weren't good either. They knew her new positions were going to backfire, and they wanted her back right this instant. They kept calling and calling until the phone finally died, its battery depleted from taking so many missed calls while on the loudest vibration setting.
Ladonna was working on cleaning the front sidewalk when she heard a familiar whistle. She turned to see AL strolling up the sidewalk with a grin on her face. She stopped and pulled a small piece of index card from her pocket:
"You know, it bothered me all last night that we didn't exchange numbers. I made a point to come out here and give you mine today. You text me right now so I can get yours, unless your boss has a problem with it," AL winked.
"Naw, I was just about to take lunch in the park. One of the nurses made potato salad and pulled-pork sandwiches, so I figured I'd bring a bag today. We can split it if you'd like," Ladonna offered, stepping inside.
AL followed her and shook her head, "Nope, I'm a growing girl. Half a sandwich and a portion of potato salad, even good ol' Southern portions, ain't enough for me. Besides, I've got my own sandwich packed. I found this deli-style roast beef stuff in the grocery store and fell in love with it. I have six of these sandwiches a week at least, and I'd eat 'em all three meals if I could," she laughed, waving to Beverly, "And I'll be getting somethin' from you when we're done."
"Oh no, you'll be taking this extra order of cake pops with you," Beverly insisted. Ladonna remembered them from yesterday—a client didn't remember ordering them with her son's birthday cake (which was green and shaped like a t-rex), so she refused them. Beverly tried to sell them, but her desire for fresh product meant today they needed to go. Ladonna was the obvious choice, but now that AL was with her, she could help her eat them.
After thanking Beverly, the two walked a few blocks over to a small park. After finding a shady spot, the girls pulled out their lunch from their bags. They finished their sandwiches in record time, then AL leaned back on to enjoy a bag of chips while Ladonna used a leftover plastic spoon from takeout to eat her portion of takeout.
"I wanted to find you today for a reason," AL said, popping a chip in her mouth to hold Ladonna's attention. She swallowed and smiled softly, "You're the first person who didn't give me The Look when I told you about Michael. I can't believe we ever stopped talkin' because you're the only one. You should'a seen the look on Momma's face when I told her."
"I bet she was devastated," Ladonna whispered, "You said you were so young—"
"Oh no, that wasn't the problem. She had this little glint in her eye that screamed 'I told you so!' She's been badgering us girls for years that we'd all end up just like her, poppin' out babies and pleasin' a man. When I got pregnant, she told me I'd be a barefoot wife with ten kids in no time. I couldn't let that happen to me, not that anyone around here cared," AL said, pausing to eat another chip before looking up, "People know about your problems now. Have they come over?"
"Well Beverly brought a pie, but most people seem to be keepin' their distance," Ladonna said, looking up from her potato salad, "Nobody's the same around here anymore, huh?"
"Nope. They couldn't give a rat's ass 'bout anybody but themselves," AL said with a harsh tone, sitting up, "Some of these people were happy I got pregnant, namely because I didn't make it a secret about who I was givin' my baby too. I guess they figured I'd be alright because I had a plan, and Catherine would get a baby. And everyone treats Michael like he's hers, which I love. He should never know. I gave Catherine my records about my health, everything I could, and she agreed to lie if he ever ended up with Great Auntie's leg problem or somethin' else."
"How are people to you though?"
"I don't exist," AL whispered, shaking her head, "Not one bit of me shows up in people's eyes no more. Those friends you saw me with are from out of town. That's who I mingle with now. I'm living between here and there, so I figured I'd spend most of my time there. People here ain't the same no more, and Michael proved that. He only exists because of Catherine. Everybody loves Catherine."
"So I guess they put me out'a sight, out'a mind because we left, huh?" Ladonna asked. AL nodded firmly in slow movements. Ladonna sighed, "I knew somethin' was up. That care facility seems really nice though. I don't need the community's help if I got them."
"You could use them to check up on her, make sure them people are treatin' her right," AL said, but Ladonna told her about the security system. AL nodded, "See, you knew already to cover your own ass. I liked that about you. You were always so smart and attentive to detail. No wonder you want to be a secretary."
"I don't know about that anymore," Ladonna admitted, "Being away from it all this time to take care of Momma changed my mind a little, but I don't know what it changed it to. I figure I'll finish up and work with Beverly, then I'll figure it out later."
AL shook her head, "There is no later. You're already pushing things by taking time off from your studies. No, if you want to change your mind, you start lookin' now. Beverly and I can help you find something. Maybe you can learn to bake like her," AL said, picking up the container with the cake pops and pulling the lid. She inhaled deeply, "You'd be fat as an overdue heifer but you'd be happy as all get out."
Ladonna and AL picked up a cake pop each and took a bite of the moist cake. Both were chocolate with light vanilla icing and green dinosaur-shaped sprinkles, and both were sweet enough to cause them both to crack a smile.
When they were done, AL walked her back to the shop and made sure Ladonna texted her. AL didn't want to lose touch, but she wouldn't be in town for at least a week. Ladonna knew she'd be back now. Besides, they had a mission. They had to find Ladonna a new calling.
Bitzi attempted to focus on the work in front of her. In between other assignments she was piecing together the article for Belinda Barnes about the hospital, but her mind was also focused on Richard. The seminar was approaching fast, but their conversation the previous night made her wonder if the seminar would even take place. He was concerned because he'd gotten a call from an organizer who didn't leave a message. He would have to wait for them to call back, he decided, and Bitzi agreed.
But now that she was at work and had several hours between then and now, she was concerned about how things were playing out. She found herself curious, namely because she'd done seminars just like the one he planned to attend. In fact, she normally attended at least five a year thanks to Metropolis's thriving market. She knew they were always explicit with how things were if they were legitimate, and the seminar Richard was going to was indeed legitimate.
Finally it was too much. Bitzi pulled up her favorite web browser and searched for the seminar's website. She found it quickly, namely because there was recent big news: Their Metropolis seminar had been cancelled pending problems with their speakers. As soon as it was resolved, the seminar would be rescheduled.
Bitzi knew this was also a common seminar problem—the one speaker you need cancels for whatever reason and you're left telling hundreds of people to go away for a while despite having their money. People were upset, and Bitzi soon discovered why: The seminar was cancelled over two months ago.
Anger swept over her. That meant he knew the seminar was cancelled, yet he was planning on using it as an excuse to meet her, and now as an excuse to not meet her. Bitzi was upset and wanted answers. She pulled up her work to continue on that as best as she could, but her phone was in her lap. She texted Richard with what she knew would get his attention: we need to talk.
The answer was immediate, and Bitzi wasted none of his time. She found out about the seminar and knew what he was trying to pull. She demanded an apology, plus a reason to even continue talking to him. She hated saying this. Richard had become one of her favorite things in the world in the short time they'd known each other, and she didn't want to end it entirely and lose a friend, plus a lover.
But he had betrayed her, lied to her, and now she knew the truth. She had to give Richard the ultimatum: Meet anyway or forget it.
Richard froze. For hours Bitzi's phone only buzzed from other notifications. She eventually turned it off and slammed it into her desk, furious at the day's events in her personal life. But she returned her focus to her work. Her standard articles needed to be edited and organized into the upcoming issues, plus she needed to write and formulate Belinda's article. That one needed the most attention because of the bombshell within, and Bitzi decided that was her way out. She'd leave her phone off all weekend, and if anyone asked, including Richard, she'd tell them about her whistleblowing exclusive article and what she had to do to get it ready in time for the Sunday edition.
Bitzi smiled. It was devious, but only she knew about that article and its origin, making it the perfect excuse.
Belinda was nervous. The weekend flew past, but she knew the article had hit the newsstands on Sunday as Bitzi said it would. The local news immediately pulled her in for an interview, an interview they played over and over again for all of Elwood City to see. Belinda's whistleblowing made everyone aware of the hospital's issues, and now everyone was talking. She was worried about being discovered, but she had to pretend all was normal.
So after dropping Mei-Lin off for her final exams, she pulled into a coffee shop. The drive-thru line was wrapped around the building but the inside of the shop looked fairly empty, so Belinda parked. She eyed the time before turning off the car. She had plenty of time to sip on a small coffee and have a little more breakfast before her shift.
After getting a pastry and settling in with her coffee at a table near the back of the shop, Belinda couldn't help but overhear the conversation at the table next to hers, a conversation that revolved around that hospital article and the repercussions.
"I'm glad that person didn't say who they were. The hospitals' big wigs are going to hate that this came out," the first lady said, stirring her coffee almost violently before taking a cautious sip.
Her friend jumped in with a laugh, "Only because the government will have to get involved."
"The government?" the first asked, dropping in another cream and stirring again.
Her friend nodded, "The government regulates what you can and can't do to employees during changes like this. Apparently this whole 'fire 'em all and get rid of 'em' thing is new news, something that wasn't a part of the deal. If the employees are involved, you have to tell them. It's a conditions thing."
"Wow, I had no idea they could interfere," the first woman said as she sipped her coffee again. She nodded in satisfaction before turning to her friend, "I'm glad they might. I know some people who work over there, and one of them called me after the article broke to tell me it was true. She'll have to go when the changeover happens, but she can't find any other work. The market is at capacity for nurses and similar medical staff. There just aren't enough facilities to take them because they're already full."
"Which means they won't be able to hire in people, especially if they bar the others from reapplying for their jobs—"
"At lower pay," the first woman interrupted, gulping her coffee a moment before looking up again, "They'll never be able to do it now, whatever they were planning. Now that the community knows and the government knows so they can step in, they won't be able to go through with it."
The friend smiled, "That's why that person came forward then. Whoever they are, they did everyone a huge favor."
Belinda was happy upon hearing that, but she still knew that she had to be extremely careful. Things might work out for her former coworkers, but they would only work out for her if her identity remained a heavily guarded secret.
Anita was working in her office on the same task she'd been on for days: Finding another property for her business without Doria's help. She was looking at a new strip mall to see if the stores were large enough to support her counter, a small office, a freezer unit, and a decent amount of seating for her customers, preferably both inside and outside the store. She smiled as she saw photos of happy people sipping coffee on a paver stone patio at another unit of the mall. The space would be perfect, but only if she could negotiate a better price than the one listed.
As her smile turned to a frown, she heard someone knock on the glass. A helper who was cleaning the dining room came to get Anita, who nodded and stepped out. She was both surprised and disappointed to see Doria Walters standing outside the door begging to come inside. Anita reluctantly unlocked the door and allowed her inside.
"I need to talk to you. Why haven't you called me about renegotiating that deal?" Doria demanded in a harsh tone. The helper made herself scarce in the back, and Anita hoped the poor girl hadn't locked herself in the freezer to escape Doria's fiery presence.
Anita sighed, knowing this would all have to come out eventually, "Well, you seemed to be struggling with Metropolis buyers, so I decided to look around myself. I thought it would be difficult, so I planned on calling you this week to try again."
"But?" Doria asked.
"But…I've found some good things on my own, and I feel it's best that I take the offers I've found for the betterment of my business," Anita replied.
Doria was livid, "Now you're turning on me too, over what? Your graphics needed work! I fixed them!"
"Without permission from the artist or from me," Anita added firmly. "Those are trademarked items. You couldn't change them without possibly getting me into legal trouble. I've had someone come to me before saying I copied their logos. I couldn't take the chance of them being right just because you decided to tweak some things. You can't do that to people."
"I can do whatever I want with my clients. It says so in every contract—full artistic discretion," Doria quoted.
Anita shook her head firmly, "I haven't signed anything with you, and I don't intend to with the way you're acting now. It's business, Doria. You know that. That's probably why you've tried to change things. You think you can make them better, and I'll give you credit, you can with some things around here, but not my business. You leave that to me."
"You're making a huge mistake," Doria hissed, pulling out her phone and leaving the store.
Anita relocked the door and looked up the street. The helper nervously emerged from the back, and she too joined Anita at the door. They both watched as Doria wrote an angry post about her business using her phone and the social media app of her choice. When she was done, she stomped up to a bench nearby and began again. She was spreading the word, and Anita felt herself get tense.
The helper tapped her arm, "It won't work. One of my friends said her mom had a meeting this weekend but she didn't say what until she got back. It was a group that formed on behalf of her daughter. They got her a huge publishing deal. Her mother is about to lose the greatest thing that she thinks ever happened to her. The new publishers are thinking of suing on Fern's behalf if she gets enough support."
"Which she will," Anita muttered, remembering the gossip she'd been hearing all over town wherever she went. She expected to hear things about her husband, but it was Fern's book everyone was talking about, not her husband's DUI sentencing to rehab.
This news made her feel better. The community would support any and all of Doria's targets, including her little homegrown ice cream shop. Anita was content with this and returned to her office, eying the listing again. It was too much, but she had to put in an offer on her own and see what happened. She contacted the agent and left a message knowing he'd get back to her, knowing her offer would get approved.
Molly's determination kept her going as treatments continued. As she entered the dentist's office for the first time with her degree, which she felt was handed to her still, she knew this was the start of something better despite her condition. She signed in and headed into the dentist's office. Molly found her eating some leftover Chinese food. Molly was torn between nausea and envy because of her lack of breakfast, but she sat in front of her knowing what was coming.
"I can finally hire you full time, but I was thinking of limiting your schedule. You'll make the same that you've been making because you'll only work the day of your treatments until it's time, then you'll have the next day off," the dentist said, pausing to shove a bite of food into her mouth. She chewed slowly to give Molly a chance to respond.
Part of her was angry again over the special treatment, but she knew this was a viable option. She was fine the day of treatment because it hadn't happened yet, but the day after? It was a coin flip. Sometimes she was perfectly fine and had plenty of energy, but other days she felt drained. On one of those days Rattles had to help her into the house, and she was torn about asking him to help her in the bathroom. She decided against it, but she had to sit for an hour on the toilet while she willed herself to get up. She nearly pitched forward when she stood to lift her pants, so she left them off, walking half naked to bed and diving under the covers. Eventually she was fine to dress herself, but she knew what this meant: One day she would actually fall. One day she would actually need help in the restroom.
Molly pushed that from her mind now and forced a smile onto her lips, "That sounds great. I go on Mondays and Wednesdays right now. I might have to do Friday treatments too but I'll let you know."
"That's exactly what I wanted to hear from you. You'll get through this, Molly. I just know you will," she smiled, taking in another bite. Rather than watch her eat, Molly went into the employee breakroom and found a pound cake from the week before. It was still good, so she cut a tiny piece and picked at it with a spoon. Half of it went down while the rest crumbled and became too much for her to handle. Molly was still pleased though. She had eaten again, and so far it was staying where she put it. Plus she was fulltime now pending her condition. There was nothing to complain about despite that memory, despite knowing what was likely to come.
Prunella was browsing a book shop near her apartment. They sold used books they received from donations, and thanks to Elwood City's large group of readers, the store was always getting in new stock. As she turned into the science-fiction section, she found some library books Mrs. Turner likely donated. She grabbed one and felt herself smile. She had checked the book out during high school, but she couldn't remember if she liked it or not. She decided to buy now and read later, then decide. She could always trade it for another one if she had her receipt.
As she exited the store with her new find, Prunella noticed a man wearing all white standing at a bus stop. He was looking at a brochure like he was a tourist, but he was looking around some too. When his eyes fell on her, he closed the brochure and walked towards her.
Prunella knew to ignore him. She kept walking with the man behind her, but she didn't quicken her pace. She kept walking, but she did go past her apartment to a small food cart up the street. The beginning of summer's heat meant shaved ice carts were popping up over the city, and Prunella decided a passion fruit shaved ice would make her day better.
She ordered and remained focused on the vender as he scooped shaved ice into a white Styrofoam cup. He poured syrup over the ice and knocked the cup on the side of his cart. When the syrup settled and the top became a light pink color, he poured more on top, turning it a dark fuchsia color. Prunella was pleased and turned with her find. As she expected, the guy was gone and replaced with a heavy-set woman Prunella often saw around her apartment. Prunella nodded politely and went to her building, rushing to her room and locking her treat in her freezer.
Prunella knew what she had to do. She called Dr. Mano and got his assistant. Prunella left a message that was a lie—she said she wanted to know about Rubella's condition, but instead she needed to ask him some questions of her own. She was getting enough sleep and her stress levels were down, but she kept seeing people that weren't real. And when she thought about it, she wondered if the conversations she sometimes heard from her neighbors were real, if the arguments in the street at four a.m. had any truth to them.
As she waited for the call, Prunella felt the worry come. How much of her life was real and how much was fake? She had no idea if she was sick like her mother and sister, but she could tell things weren't as they should be. She needed Dr. Mano's help, and thankfully he was quick to answer his messages.
"Hello, Prunella, it's Dr. Mano. My assistant said you had questions about your sister?" he said, his tone showing he was asking, not telling.
Prunella laughed nervously, "Actually, I just…I couldn't tell her the truth. I…I've been having delusions. I know the people I see aren't real because people saw me interact with one and no one was there, and I just…I need your help."
"This is very common, more common than many people realize because science is still so new despite being hundreds of years old," Dr. Mano smiled, "Your mother and sister have similar issues, but you at least realize what's going on. I think an office visit and some medication could help you, and we'll take an out-patient approach until the need arises for something else. I'll schedule an appointment for…next Tuesday at eleven. Can you do that?"
"Yes, of course," Prunella nodded, knowing this was her only choice at the moment. She thanked Dr. Mano immensely before ending the call. She sighed with relief, knowing things were finally going to get fixed and she could hopefully get back to normal.
Marina could feel the tensions rising. The school's board was meeting that afternoon, not for usual business. It was an emergency meeting scheduled at the end of the year, and teachers were worried that it was the meeting that would end the school completely. Marina knew this was likely, but they could also be discussing Anthony's father's offer and whether or not they should take it.
She tried to focus on her work for the day and the next, but it was excruciating for her and everyone else. As per always, the school was being super secretive with their goings-on, and Marina knew that could be both a good and a bad thing all at the same time. Their silence could be because they were ashamed to take a buy out from someone they publically rejected before, but it could also be because they were waiting for the best possible time to tell everyone to forget it. Marina could almost hear them telling her the school would be closing at the end of the year indefinitely.
As the day ended, she tried to go about her typical business, but it was the end of the year. Nothing was typical as kids became antsy for summer, and because many classes were ending and showing videos instead of lessons, the atmosphere was already charged. The room was messier as she moved through it, her cane finding balled up paper and stray cups from snacks she allowed in the room. Her usual end-of-the-day cleaning took moments longer, and she soon realized it was just long enough for a message to come over the intercom: Faculty and staff were requested in the gym for a mandatory meeting.
Marina immediately joined the people in the hallway. Everyone seemed to somehow be in the building, and they anxiously moved into the auditorium to hear whatever the school had to say.
"For better or worse," they said, but they all knew it could be worse, which would put their special needs students back in public schools that may or may not meet their needs. They could be out of the job, many of them having to leave the area to find a similar job in their field. Even the cafeteria workers would be displaced if the school shut down, though the janitors would just get a new assignment from their parent company.
Marina pushed it out of her mind as she settled into a seat between two muttering math teachers who whispered to themselves more than anyone else.
As one of the few fully blind teachers, Marina didn't see that the entire board was on the stage, sitting patiently as they stared at nothing, be it on the floor or the wall or on the ceiling. None of them could look the crowd in the eye, but them being there together caused everyone to sit on the edge of their seats. Whatever this meeting was about, it was big.
Finally the headmaster approached the stage. He lightly tapped the microphone, a sound the echoed through the room and got everyone to quiet down.
"Thank you all for joining me. I know you're all wrapping things up in your classrooms in preparation for summer vacation, but I felt today was the perfect time to make a very important announcement concerning the future of this establishment. It's no secret that the school has major budget shortfalls that our benefactors cannot make up for, and the school has struggled in the past to meet certain gaps in our budget for this reason.
"Recently an offer came in from another private school owner, a person who has made us an offer before that we refused, thinking this could go on much longer with what we already have. I'm afraid this can't go on any longer. This year will be the final year this school, as we know it, will have," he paused as a collective hiss of intaken breath filled the air.
He continued after a moment that went on for what felt like eternity, "We've accepted his offer because we want to do what's best for our students and all of you. You will all be included in the deal as well, and you may find new employees joining your ranks. He assures me budget shortfalls will be overcome with government grants that are already in motion thanks to some dutiful teachers working secretly without our knowledge. Marina Datillo? Anthony Johnson? Will the two of you please stand to take credit for your work?"
Marina blushed. It was more Mary's work than either of them, but she knew that she'd set the wheels in motion, and accepting Anthony as an ally made everything happen. The crowd clapped for them, realizing this without them saying a word. They were grateful, and as the room cleared, Marina could tell that now the buzzed energy from the students anticipating summer vacation was now transferred to them, the buzzed energy from finding out you'd keep your job and your students for an indefinite amount of time.
Carla rolled over with a groan as the phone rang again. Five rings at two in the morning meant something, and as she remembered her missing pregnant daughter, she knew to answer the phone immediately.
"Carla Morgan, this is Elwood City General Hospital—"
"Oh god, what's happened?" Carla choked, almost punching her husband as she attempted to wake him. The first blow did it and soon both were sitting up in bed with the bedside lamps on to illuminate the room.
"Ma'am, we have a baby here for you," the woman said with a business-like tone.
Carla felt tears come to her eyes as she relayed the message to her husband, "A baby, for us."
They were needed at the hospital as soon as possible, and as they dressed, the two thought about their journey. Unbeknownst to Jenna, the two wanted as many children as they could have when they first got together. Jenna was a miracle baby, the product of five years of trying. After her birth, the trying continued as soon as they were able, but no other babies came.
So, as they watched their daughter blossom from preteen into a young adulthood, they applied to become foster parents. They only wanted babies, but their lack of certification meant they weren't accepted, but they were put on a long adoption waitlist. Carla knew they were as far from the top as they possibly could be, and this was the first time a call like this had ever come through.
As they drove to the hospital, the two of them pieced together the puzzle without being told. This baby was Jenna's baby, whether anyone would admit it or not. She demanded her mother take the baby, or worse.
They needed answers, and as they found where they needed to be at the hospital, they found the answers readily available. This was indeed Jenna's baby, but she was fine. She wanted them to have the child, and a gossipy nurse told them in the nursery that Jenna told her significant other that the baby was dead. She even asked them to run a notice in her name, but no one was to know the truth except her parents.
They took this burden, knowing their daughter was making the best choice that she could in her situation. They wished silently that she had come too, but upon seeing the glowing baby girl, they knew she likely felt there was unfinished business in the home, business she could handle. Carla hoped she could as she took the baby in her arms, looking up to husband.
"She needs a name. Do you remember any good ones?" Carla asked.
He laughed, "Well, a few come to mind. What do you think? We have to decide now, so we can't be too rash about this. It's going to follow her the rest of her life."
"I know," Carla said, looking down to the pink-wrapped bundle. "I was thinking…Ana. Jenna always loved that name, Ana Marie. She saw it somewhere and fell in love with it."
"She saw it in one of those books on Spain when she was writing that report," her husband confirmed, "and she instantly wanted to name her daughter that. I think it's perfect, and I agree that it's a good name. And it'll remind us of her until she gets home again."
The two agreed, and after dealing with a mound of paperwork, the couple was allowed to take home the baby that night. They needed a carrier, so Carla was left alone in the hospital while her husband sought one out at what was now five a.m. He returned soon after with a carrier, more formula and diapers, plus a few balloons. He said all new babies should come home surrounded by balloons, and the manager at the Walmart he went to was too happy for him to let him leave without them.
So surrounded by balloons and the love of her grandparents, Ana Marie went home without a care in the world.
A/N: Alright, it's the end of another chapter (though I just mass-posted all I have), and I have some news for you guys. For the record, it's about 9:30 in the morning here on the fifteenth of May as I write this a-n, and I've made a decision. So, I've had an original idea nagging at me for a while (two months? Maybe longer. I remembered having it during a trip up to Atlanta during Grandma's stuff, so it was either before or after she died, so around two months now). I've fleshed it out and I really want to work on it, but I can't do two projects at once.
So, though I absolutely hate to do this, I need to put Not Done Yet on hiatus. It's in a state where I can easily jump back into it thanks to my outline and an idea stockpile I've started, and I'm sure I can get back into it if I need to. Plus you guys need more time to read it, so maybe you'll all catch up while I write.
There it is then: Not Done Yet is officially on hiatus.
What to expect later? Okay, I'll tell you my idea: I'm thinking of jumping ahead a month or so, maybe 90 days. David and James Powers will be out of rehab and adjusting to life outside that island of support, Kate will have had her surgery, Jenna will be at home with Frank, Molly will be deep into treatment, Bitzi's romance issues will have time to fester, Doria's problems will probably be worse while Fern's are better—everyone will be at a different point that I think I can really work with easily when I start back writing. I've been thinking of this while I wrote the last part of this chapter, and I think that's what I'm going to do, a two month time jump to the heart of summer. Hope you guys like it, and follow this story so you'll get a message as soon as I start posting again.
And no, I'm not telling any of you my original idea. Sorry, that's just personal policy numero uno.