by Claire Adams
“Let me get that for you, Ms. Hayward.” Karen tried rushing into the house, but mom shook her head.
“I can still do things on my own, damn it. And I’m going to pour my own cup of water.” She entered her house on her own. Karen glanced at me, possibly expecting me to put some sense into mom, but instead, I told her of the prognosis.
“Oh heavens,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hayward.”
I didn’t have the energy to correct her. “I think mom is trying to get some independence back,” I said. “It might be best to give her some.”
I followed Karen into the house and found mom leaning against a kitchen counter with a water cup half empty and a puddle dripping from the counter toward the wood-stained floor. Karen immediately wiped it up, but neither of us said anything about it.
“I love you,” I said and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, okay?”
She pulled me into a hug, her arm reaching around my neck as her skin shivered from the cold. I watched in the corner of my eye as Karen started a fire in the living room.
“I love you so much, my Gavin,” she whispered in my ear. “So impossibly much.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” I whispered back. I pressed one last kiss against her forward, said goodbye to Karen, and returned home.
I had two missed calls from Ron. I threw my phone onto the couch, not particularly caring if it got lost within the pillows, and slammed my head against the door to my liquor room. Six months? What were we going to do? My fists met with the metal door, slamming into it as if it was the same punching bag in my gym. My knuckles grew bloody, and my skin tore with each hit, but I didn’t stop until I was out of breath.
I opened the door and stepped into a room 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the house. I picked an unopened bottle of bourbon and a smooth glass from a corner shelf and sat at the bar beside my kitchen. I poured an ounce, drank it, and then another two ounces.
For the first time in my life, I had no idea what I was going to do.
Chapter Four
Maddie
We didn’t have many ingredients to use for lunch in our kitchen. In fact, all I was able to scavenge was a tuna sandwich, half a pickle, and the crumbs from a bag of vegetable chips. At least there was half of a protein shake from breakfast that would keep me full until dinner.
I prepared my lunch and sat against the wall in our dining room, reading over my most recent text conversation with Martin. He hadn’t been very happy to learn that the previous weekend hadn’t even gotten me a thousand new followers, and we were trying to pick a new trend to replicate that might get me more attention.
My phone rang just as I was reaching the end of our conversation, and I answered it just as Ron, my cousin, asked if Nancie was around.
“You know if you want to talk to her you could just call her directly,” I said. “She knows you have her number.”
“That would make it less creepy,” he said. “And then what would you make fun of me for?”
“God, literally everything else,” I said. “What do you want? I’m trying to finish this pathetic lunch so I can take selfies before that giant rainbow over the freeway goes away. Apparently, rainbow selfies are a new trend.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he muttered. “Anyways, I caught too much fish that I couldn’t sell, so I’m having a fish fry tonight. I know how you models can’t afford to eat, so I thought I’d invite you.”
My stomach growled as I took the last bite of my tuna sandwich. I could always go for more tuna.
“I’ll be there,” I said. “But Nancie has another shoot.”
“I’ll make some to-go boxes then. Seen you soon,” he said and hung up. I was grateful that I wouldn’t have to worry about dinner, but would never let Ron know that.
Ron seemed to be the only family member who actually supported my life choices. His own mom had pursued her dream of becoming a published author, and his dad started the fishing business that Ron took over when he passed from cancer. He believed in following your dreams and even tried explaining the concept to my mom and dad. Ron tried explaining to me that in their own way, they had followed their dreams as well. It just so happened their dreams led to a life of crippling debt, settling, and rising bills.
Nancie arrived home moments later with giant shopping bags swinging from her elbows that were stuffed with brand new clothing. Her most recent gig had paid well. I tried remembering the last gig that paid me more than $500, but it was a useless thought. These days I got paid just a couple of hundred dollars along with useless items as compensation.
She pulled out shirt after shirt, gushing over the material and softness of each item. She got a few pieces for me as well, and I thanked her profusely. Nancie was always trying to get me more into high-end fashion than the department store clothes in my wardrobe.
“I saw the prints today!” she gushed and sat across from me. She took a single bite from what was left of my half pickle, scrunched her nose, and threw it in the trash. “You realize that pickle was probably like a month old, right?”
“It didn’t have mold on it,” I argued. “Anyways, how were the prints?”
“Beautiful!” She showed me a few pictures on her phone. “I couldn’t snap too many photos, but this is the gist of it.”
I brought her phone close to my face and stared at the fancy clothes on Nancie’s back. The photographer had used the perfect angles and lighting, making Nancie an angel bathed in a soft light as she posed on a bed of down feathers and rich, leather blankets.
“You look amazing,” I said, trying to keep the jealousy from my voice.
“You could have looked even better,” she said. “They used two stand-ins, and neither of them had your height or your complexion. You would have booked future gigs for sure.”
I groaned, regretting going to dinner with my parents. “Don’t tell me that.”
“Okay then.” She put her phone away and took out a pamphlet. “How about I tell you this instead?”
I glanced at the words on the pamphlet, the name of a famous clothing designer in bold letters on top of a production company’s symbol.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“The biggest job offer I’ve ever gotten,” she could barely keep her voice from squealing. “I’m moving to California!”
“What?” I snatched the pamphlet and read it twice over. “No way, how did this happen?”
“One of the guys watching the photo shoot loved me, said there’s an open spot for a four-season modeling contract.” She grabbed my hand. “This means I’ll have regular photoshoots once a month, and it pays more than every gig I’ve gotten in the past five years!”
“That’s amazing!” I said honestly. “Nancie, I’m so happy for you!”
“I haven’t accepted yet,” she said and fidgeted in her seat. “It’s a huge decision, and they’re giving me a month to decide.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do?” I asked.
“I have no idea, but I’d be dumb to refuse this, right?” she asked me.
“Take your time,” I said. “But yeah, you pretty much have to accept. This is what you’ve been dreaming about your entire life.”
“And of course I’ll get contacts in Hollywood and send them your portfolio, so you can book a gig and move to California to be my roommate,” she said and moved her shopping bags into her room.
I enjoyed her vision, but there was something wrong with it. Nancie’s dreams were coming true. It seemed like I still had a lot of work before I’d get anywhere with mine. I was beyond happy that Nancie’s career was taking off; she deserved it, she really did. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t somewhat envious of her, especially when I was struggling to get followers. I checked my social media accounts one last time before calling it a day. Twenty-one more followers.
I eyed my gas tank as I drove to Ron’s house nearly on the other side of town. I hadn’t been planning on filling up
my tank until the end of the week, which was still four days away. Maybe Ron would slip me some dollars alongside the leftovers. It wouldn’t be the first time.
His house was a simple one story on the edge of a cul-de-sac, something that I always imagined a man settled down with a wife and kids would purchase and grow old in. That wasn’t Ron, of course; he was happier bringing home a different woman every night and sending her away before the sun rose.
He greeted me at the door with a grin and a beer outstretched in his hands. I shook my head and moved past him toward the living room to set down my purse. His new puppy, an adorable, Great Dane named Milo, was snoring soundly on the couch.
“I don’t waste calories on beer,” I said. “Especially when it takes like five of them to get a decent buzz.”
“Sounds like a problem,” he said and replaced the beer with a glass of wine. I decided against complaining about the sugary calories in wine and accepted it. Milo woke with a groggy yawn and greeted me with kisses.
“Thanks,” I said as I took the glass of wine. “How’s the fish fry going?” His house smelled of albacore and fresh spices, making my stomach rumble as the minutes passed.
“It’s going,” he said. “You’ll have enough to feed the both of you for a month.” Milo promptly went back to sleep.
“Until Nancie moves to California,” I said and sat on the couch. Ron raised an eyebrow. “She got a job offer there, the chance of a lifetime.”
“No shit?” he asked and joined me on the other side of Milo. He sipped on his own beer as he kicked back and relaxed, and Milo stretched and made a comfortable spot on Ron’s lap. “Nancie in the States? How do you feel about that?”
“I want to join her obviously,” I said. “God knows there’s way more gigs in Hollywood than there are in Fairbanks.” I welcomed the bitter wine on my throat.
“Toothpaste commercials ain’t cutting it, huh?” he joked. I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his head, not wanting to relive the awful week I spent smiling at a camera. The only things I got from that gig had been sore cheeks and a check for a hundred dollars.
“I’m happy for Nancie; she deserves it,” Ron said. “That girl practically poses in her sleep.”
“And how would you know that?” I frowned. “You’ve been stalking her at night?”
“She wishes.” He laughed and left to check on the fish. He returned with a sample for me as Milo sniffed the air. It was flaky and buttery, with a slight crisp on the outside that was salty and sweet at the same time.
“It’s delicious,” I said. “Nancie’s going to love it.”
“Well, I guess I won’t be winning her heart over with my fish fry anytime soon,” he said and refilled my wine.
“Only two glasses,” I said. “I have to drive home eventually.”
“I got you. The fish is ready if you want to eat,” he said, and I followed him into the kitchen. We made our own plates and sat at the table with Milo at our feet.
His house was quaint with second-hand furniture and electronics that were at least two years old. Ron didn’t live a life of luxury or restraint; he was more in-between. His fishing business had done well for him, just enough for him not to worry about bills and a little extra to spoil his favorite cousin. I smiled at the thought of the first time he had gifted me a present after taking over his dad’s company. A small vanity mirror, since I had complained that all of the models had their own. My next present had been the script for my favorite movie, a romantic musical about a bohemian lifestyle set in Paris, and the very same movie on Blu-Ray.
“So are you okay?” he asked as we ate our fish. “I mean, you two are best friends, and she’s following the same dreams you have.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said honestly. “I won’t lie though; I can’t help but feel jealous. Nancie is already buying designer clothes and wearing expensive jewelry, and not just ones she gets from shoots.”
“She’s enjoying the finer things life has to offer,” he said.
“I want to enjoy those, too,” I said. “And I know you do as well. You’ve been saving up for one of those new TVs, with the 4K, and that new gaming console that’s sold out anywhere.”
“Well, of course, I’m going to want to buy the things I like,” he said. “But Maddie, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy without them.”
“You sound just like mom and dad,” I finished the two fillets on my plate and thanked Ron as he placed one more on it. Milo groaned as Ron walked to and from the kitchen. “I just don’t understand how this family is so okay with living in debt and barely paying bills. Don’t they want more? I know mom would love a hundred-year-old bottle of wine, and dad an outing at an actual golf course, not just put-put at the local YMCA. You can’t tell me money isn’t everything when it quite literally is.”
“Money means a lot, I agree with that,” he said. “But it doesn’t mean happiness. Gavin’s the richest asshole in the state and trust me when I say the bastard’s always moping around.”
“Gavin doesn’t realize what he has then,” I said, remembering that Ron’s childhood best friend had sold his father’s company and made several billion dollars from it. “He could move to the States, get a giant mansion, a yacht, buy out a theme park and put his face on every window if he wanted. He doesn’t because he’s spoiled.”
“I don’t know about that.” Ron fidgeted, and I realized I must have said something offensive. “Look, you want to live the rich life, right? Gavin’s having a dinner at his house on Friday. Come with me, and you can see how they live. I guarantee you’ll realize there’s more to happiness than just money.”
I considered his offer. It had been at least six years since I’ve even seen Gavin. Back then he was just the weird best friend of my cousin, a man barely out of college who didn’t seem to have anything to do with his life. Ron had filled me in only a little, something about his dad’s death and mom’s illness, but our paths hadn’t crossed in so long that he barely took more than a second of my thoughts in the past several years. But a fancy dinner party at a fancy house meant that I could wear a fancy dress, and who knows, maybe there would be important guests at dinner. Nancie believed in taking every opportunity that presented itself, to broaden your connections just in case. And Nancie would be thrilled to go shopping with me.
“I’ll go,” I said. “Now, can I get the rest of the fish to go? Nancie will kill me if I come home smelling like fried fish without bringing her a bucket.”
Ron chuckled and handed me a container as I said goodbye to Milo.
“I’ll see you on Friday,” he said, and we exchanged goodbyes. Nancie was waiting when I arrived home, and as expected she squealed when I asked her to go shopping with me.
“Who’s Gavin again?” she asked after eating her share of fish.
“Just some guy,” I said. “He’s not important though. It’s the other people who might be there.” We ended the night trying to decide what type of dress I would wear while looking up apartments in Hollywood that Nancie had been considering. They all were studios, but I chose not to say anything.
Chapter Five
Gavin
Mom’s legs were weak as she stood in front of her vanity and applied light touches of blush to her cheeks. She wanted to add color to her otherwise pale face before this mistake of a dinner, and I had special-ordered a custom powder from France and had it delivered to her within the day.
“I really wish you would reconsider this,” I said as I stood in the doorway of her room. My suit jacket was uncomfortable and itchy, a fancy designer jacket that mom had gushed about the minute she saw it in a catalog. It had been overnighted to me as well, along with pinstriped pants and leather shoes that practically still smelled like the cow it came from. I was uncomfortable in such an outfit.
“This is what I want,” she said. “Our closest friends and family together for dinner one last time before they find out. I just want to have a simple conversation without the constant reminder that I’m dying.”
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“Our closest friends and family?” I laughed. “These people haven’t visited you once in the past half year.”
“People get busy with their lives,” mom said. “That doesn’t mean they care about us any less. If anything, I hope that they learn a lesson from me.”
“Your life is not a lesson,” I argued. Mom turned to me with a sad smile.
“But shouldn’t it be? Shouldn’t we all be lessons?” She finished her blush and leaned against the chair. She had a sudden burst of energy from the excitement of planning this dinner, but it seemed it was beginning to fade.
I didn’t want to upset her and ruin the night, so I nodded and helped her finish getting ready. She ordered a pair of custom tailored heels for the night, despite my concerns of her wearing such a heel, and slipped into them before heading over to my house. Already there were a dozen cars parked in my stretched driveway, and a hired butler was greeting people at the door as he subtly asked for their names.
Mom and I went in through the back, into an entertainment room that was sectioned away from the house. A hired worker for the night handed me a slip of paper that listed the guests who already arrived.
“Thank you,” I said and glanced at it. Twenty-five names were marked down, barely half of the invitations. Most everyone had RSVP’d, with just two expressing their sorrow that they couldn’t attend such a last-minute extravagant affair. Mom leaned on my shoulder as I led her to the grand foyer. She lit up as old friends greeted us, and I shook hands with several second and third cousins whom I forgot were related to us.
“Gavin, boy,” an older man in his sixties pushed my shoulder in a greeting. I smiled and turned to find Bill Schild, the very man who had purchased dad’s company for the billions that he thought were worth it. “Glad to see life is going well with you.”
“Thanks, Bill,” I said. “How’s Schild Corp?” He had changed the name from Hayward Corp to his own nearly the minute the transfer was complete.
“It’s moving smoothly. Your dad really built a wonderful company; don’t ever forget that,” he said and excused himself for the bar.