Oh, the joys.
“I’m your ma. Of course, I care,” she rasped out the lie, her eyes flaring wide as she tried to focus on me.
“I have errands to run,” I told her, knowing that would get her to back off.
God forbid she ever pulled any weight around this place.
“Get me some beer,” she ordered, before slouching back toward her pit.
My jaw clenched as she settled back in her armchair and let off a fart that had me scurrying out the door just to get away from her vileness.
How she got any man to fuck her for a fee was beyond me.
Saying that, I’d never seen the guys she’d picked up before, and had no desire to either.
Leaving Scottie with Cheryl for the rest of the afternoon and evening cost money I didn’t have, but I knew I’d get some tips tonight and they’d have to go to Mrs. Linden’s neighbor because I just couldn’t leave him with Mom.
It wasn’t ideal, but nothing about this situation was.
I had to suck it up, get on with things, and move on.
My first step was the laundromat. After I set everything up to wash, I waited until I could shove them in the dryer before running to the store down the street. I grabbed everything we’d need for the next few days. Some days, I eyed the fresh produce like I was eying up a Chippendale. I ate a lot of crap food, and longed for a time when a salad was more affordable than a crappy sandwich from a fast-food joint.
Scottie would eat better than I had as a kid, hell, even as I did as an adult. I’d see to it if it killed me.
But as I stared at the healthy stuff, it reminded me of the professor.
Of his words.
I felt fatter than ever, disgusting within my own skin because he’d made me feel that way. Ashamed of something that was literally out of my control. It was either cheap foods or nothing… Maybe he’d prefer me to starve?
Although, I guessed that begged the question of why he’d forced me to do what he had when I was so gross to him.
Just thinking of those cold eyes, that stern jaw had a shiver rushing down my spine.
Why was he so beautiful? How could someone so handsome, so picture-perfect pretty, be so mean? So hard and unforgiving?
I wasn’t a bad person. I tried. I really did. And yet, to him, I felt like scum. Scum that he could do this to, that he could manipulate and use because I was desperate and he could take advantage of that.
My emotions were churning. Hatred for him warred with the intrinsic womanly pride every female had. I didn’t want him to want me, hell, I should discourage it, but my ego was torn to shreds by his words. So, I put back some of the food I’d collected in my basket and grabbed the bare minimum I needed. After grabbing Scottie’s essentials, I headed back to the laundromat and saw that my stuff was ready to go. Folding it and placing it in my bag, I returned to my building with enough clothes and food for the remainder of the week.
Hefting it all up the stairs wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to, but I stopped on the third floor because that was where Janowicz lived.
As I approached his door, I braced myself.
Not only was our super a grade-A creep, he was mean too.
Still, he knew which hospital Mrs. Linden had gone to. Cheryl, the neighbor who’d been looking after Scottie, said she’d heard him outside when the ambulance had come.
I’d wanted to scream at her when she said she didn’t know which hospital Mrs. Linden was being treated at—who heard EMTs and didn’t think to ask after their neighbor? —but it was that kind of building in that kind of city.
Every man, woman, and child was out for themselves here.
Knocking on the door, I waited until the greasy lump appeared. His yellowed teeth bared themselves into a grin as he leered at me.
“You did my shopping for me, why, how kind of you,” he mocked, scratching his sweat-slicked chest as he did so.
I ground my teeth and murmured, “I want to visit Mrs. Linden in the hospital.”
“I want a Russian bride.” His eyes narrowed at me. “I’d settle for a Thai. Think you could hook me up?”
“Please,” I added, hardening my tone. “Cheryl said you know where she is.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”
“I just want to see if she’s okay.”
“Old bitch. It’s time she died.”
Janowicz disliked the residents who had rent-controlled apartments, like Mrs. Linden who’d lived here for a long time.
Though his words hurt me, I merely whispered, “Please.”
His response was another shrug as he scratched his dirty wifebeater-covered belly—did he have fleas or something? “It was either Brookdale, Brooklyn Hospital, or New York Community Hospital.” His yellowed teeth made another appearance. “Damned if I can remember which.”
When he slammed the door in my face, I was relieved. Three hospitals were a start. I just had to hope she was in one of them.
Believing that I’d find Mrs. Linden sooner rather than later, I carried on up the stairs. When I made it into my apartment, I tried to shrug off my sadness. Normally, I’d have food for Mrs. Linden too, and I loathed walking past her floor to get to mine.
She was my haven because I hated my apartment with a passion, and preferred to be with her and Scottie than up there.
I’d have slept there if I could, but I’d never crossed that line.
I didn’t think my mother would give a damn if I ran off with Scottie. Maybe one day I’d try that and see if she cared about us at all. I had a feeling she wouldn’t, but I wasn’t ready to test that yet.
When I stacked the food in the grimy cupboards I cleaned every month—the nicotine-stained them regardless—my mother lumbered into the kitchen. “You didn’t get any beer,” she growled, staring in bewildered anger at my meager purchases.
“Didn’t have the money for it,” I told her simply. It wasn’t a total lie. I’d saved some money by buying less food, but I wasn’t about to waste that on a six-pack. Not when Cheryl needed paying later.
“Bullshit,” she spat.
I sucked down a breath, trying to keep my patience as I emptied the brown paper bag. Facing the cupboards rather than her, I murmured, “Mrs. Linden is sick. I had to pay for a sitter.”
“You mean you wasted money on a sitter when I was here?” Her hand grabbed my shoulder and she forced me to turn around. Her fingers were bony, digging into me like they were daggers as she got in my face. “How many times have I told you—”
When her spittle hit my cheek, I scrubbed at my skin where her filth touched me and snarled, “How many times have I told you? I’m not your personal shopper. You want beer? Go and buy it your goddamn self.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, those eyes that were so like Scottie’s and mine. Some days, it was the only physical reminder I had that she was our mother. With her skeletal frame, skin that looked jaundiced, and her drawn features that had once been beautiful but were now just jaded and desperate, she didn’t even look like our distant cousin.
“Don’t be wasting no money on a sitter. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“And some use you are. You’ll leave him.”
“I won’t. I’m his goddamn mother. I know what I’m doing.”
“The last time I had to leave him with you, you went out.” My jaw clenched at the memory. “Mrs. Linden is in the hospital until God knows when, and I have to work. If you can’t man up, if I can’t trust him with you, then any money that goes to the sitter has to come out of our grocery funds.”
I admit that I caved in sometimes and bought her stash regardless of my current hard stance with her. Why? Because I knew she whored herself out for her fix otherwise.
Truth be told, and as disgusting of a person as it made me, I didn’t really care that she did that. But I did care that she brought the guys back here, in the same place my baby brother slept.
She licked her pasty lips. “I can look after him. It ain’t too hard.”
&n
bsp; “Apparently it is, because you’ve managed to let me down every single time.”
“If you grab me a six-pack the next time you’re out, I’ll do it.”
Jesus.
You’d think I was Scottie’s mother here. But luckily for me, his biological mom was willing to cut a deal with me—sheesh.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “A six-pack?” I sniffed, but then I thought about it, and realized it wasn’t a bad deal if she could be responsible for once. “Fine. If you stay in and make sure he’s okay, I’ll get you two.” Because two of the kind she bought were worth a damn sight less than Cheryl, and I couldn’t afford Cheryl anyway. Hell, I couldn’t afford the beer!
Her eyes lit up, revealing their once jewel-like beauty. “Great. I won’t let you down.”
I really hoped she wasn’t lying because damn, I needed some help.
When she scuttled away like the cockroach she was, my shoulders sagged.
I was tired. Tired because I barely slept, tired because I worked so much, but mostly, I was tired of being the adult here.
Since Scottie’s birth, things had grown worse with my mother, but it had been bearable because of Mrs. Linden.
Without her?
Without my rock?
I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through the week, never mind much longer. Throw in this situation with the professor? With the sword of Damocles hanging over my head?
Three words came to mind.
God help me.
And I wasn’t even religious.
❖
“Mrs. Linden!” My eyes were wet as I rushed into the hospital ward. It had taken me all afternoon to find out where she was being treated, and for each of those hours, guilt had filled me because I knew she was alone in the world, knew she had no family except for me or Scottie.
Her rheumy eyes were bleary as she blinked them open, and her face, tense with deeper lines than before, seemed to lighten as she stared at me and registered who Scottie and I were.
“My, it’s good to see you, girlie,” she rasped, her voice low and deep as she unfurled arthritic fingers and held them out for me to take hold of.
Before I could, Scottie giggled, grabbed her fingers, and tugged them with his own. Her smile warmed my heart, and here, the only real mother Scottie and I’d ever known, chuckled as the baby squawked at her.
He was happy to see her, more than he ever was to see Mom. I couldn’t blame him for that, because she was practically a stranger to him, but with our deal in mind, he’d be seeing more of the bitch who’d given birth to us. Mom had actually behaved all day when I’d retrieved him from Cheryl’s. I wasn’t sure how long that would last, and knew her control wasn’t good enough to rely on in the long run.
Even as fear for Scottie filled me, even as the cocktail of emotions my predicament with the Professor stirred in me, I forced myself to focus on Mrs. Linden.
“I couldn’t find you,” I said, my voice breaking on a sob.
Her wizened brow furrowed as she beckoned me to let Scottie down. While the baby toddled over to her, wriggling until he was at her side, my heart cried out. For the first time in days, he settled down and within seconds, he slept.
“He missed you,” I breathed, guilt spiraling inside me until I thought I’d choke on it.
“And I missed him.” She blew out a tired breath, then stared at me with dark, sad eyes. “Baby girl, I ain’t got long left for this world.”
Tears burned but I refused to let them fall. “Don’t say that,” I chided, reaching for her hand and squeezing. “You’ll get better. You always do.”
“Ain’t an ‘always’ where this is concerned, honey.” She let her head rock against the papery pillow, and was it my imagination? Or was her silvery white hair thinner and more brittle than before?
My stomach revolted as I took in the sight of the woman I’d known for years, who’d helped me with Scottie, sure, but who’d also been the only constant since Mom and I had moved into our building twelve years ago.
Without Mrs. Linden, I wouldn’t have had the guts to try for college, and without her, I’d never have been able to care for Scottie too.
I loved her and she believed she was going to leave me.
The only person, aside from Scottie, who I loved, thought she was going to die soon.
I dipped my head and tried to evade those all-knowing eyes.
“It’s my time, baby girl,” she rasped, but I shook my head, unable to hear those words.
“You’re talking like this because you’ve been by yourself,” I countered, smoothing down her blankets to work off some of my nerves. “I could kill Mr. Janowicz. He could have told me sooner, but he’s a mean old…” I tightened my jaw because Mrs. Linden didn’t like cussing. “Jerk.”
I’d had to call the three hospitals he’d rattled off because of him, and had managed to find her by lying and saying I was her granddaughter. Our super didn’t deserve the label ‘jerk.’
At my words, she sighed and shook her head. “It’s my time, honey.” This time, her tone was more insistent, and all the more terrifying for it because she didn’t even complain about Janowicz, was more bothered about me coming to terms with the fact she was dying.
I jerked at the sound of a loud snore, and Mrs. Linden rolled her eyes when Scottie, disturbed by the noise, began wriggling as he became more aware. We were in a shared ward. At her side, there was the snoring woman, and the other cubicle had the curtain drawn around the bed. Straight opposite her, there was a woman doing a puzzle, and the final two were reading on e-readers. The scent of disinfectant was in the air, and the all-pervasive perfume of death was prevalent.
No wonder Mrs. Linden was feeling so uncertain.
In this place, it was hardly cheerful.
“You’ll be home soon,” I told her, but she shook her head again and patted my hand.
“No, baby. No.” She reached up and cupped my chin, forcing me to look at her. “This ticker won’t last much longer. The docs told me.” She exhaled roughly. “I’ve made peace with it, but I’m frightened for you and this boy.”
My eyes watered. “I love you, Mrs. Linden.”
Her lips curved. “I know you do, and I love you. Both of you. But don’t you think you could call me Enid?”
Throat tight, I whispered, “I love you, Enid.”
She sighed. “That’s better.” Her hand curved around Scottie’s chubby leg. “I missed this young’un, but I was even sorrier to have put you in a pickle. What did you do with him yesterday morning when I was brought in?”
“I figured something out,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant and probably failing considering she winced.
“You left him at home?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t yesterday, but I’m having to now.”
Curling her finger at me, she beckoned me closer. I leaned over her and couldn’t scent her usual flowery perfume, but a clinical kind of soap instead—why hadn’t I thought to bring her things with me?
God, I was so selfish sometimes. But when I’d finally found the right hospital, I’d grabbed Scottie then hauled us both over here on four buses. Thoughts of perfume hadn’t been on my mind—keeping Scottie comfortable, trying not to fall asleep before our next stop, and catching the right bus had taken all my mental capacity.
“In my cupboard, there’s my purse. I want you to take it with you.”
My eyes widened. “I can’t do that!”
“Of course, you can, child. It isn’t going to do me much good. Not where I’m going.” Her smile was resigned, and I hated the tinge of relief I found there—had she been in so much pain that death was welcome? The thought crushed me. “There’s a bit of money in there, not a lot, but you can take my keys. You take whatever you can and sell it. You won’t get much, but maybe there’s something that will pay for childcare. Even if it’s for a few weeks, it’s better than nothing.” She shook her head. “Thinking of Scottie with your mother makes this old ticker race.”
I
reached for her hand and my mouth trembled as I whispered words I wanted to withhold but simply couldn’t. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Both our eyes blurred as she whispered, “Baby, don’t you think I’d stay if I could?”
My throat ached with the power of my sadness, and for a second, my body temperature plummeted as I tried to contain my sorrow.
Because I couldn’t face her, not without bawling, I turned away from her and headed to the cupboard she’d pointed to. It was scratched and had been new back in the seventies, but I reached inside and grabbed her personal items.
“Could you pass me some water, honey?” she asked gently, her focus on Scottie who was fiddling with the hospital bracelet she wore on her wrist.
Nodding, I set her purse on the table then poured water into the sippy cup waiting there, and handed it to her. The tremor in her fingers was worse than before, and I watched the blue veins as she raised the cup to her mouth. They seemed to be duller somehow, and her skin was more papery than just a few days earlier. With Scottie curled up next to her, his body so round and pink with good health, there was a stark contrast between the two of them, and it saddened me all the more.
Because I couldn’t sit still, I tidied her blankets again, which she’d rustled, and tucked her in, all while she cooed over Scottie who was half-dozing and making bubbles with his spit now.
It was gross, but it was amazing how a baby made things acceptable.
I’d been puked on, peed on, crapped on, and all of it now had the power to make me laugh a little—not that I had at the time, of course.
When I’d finished fussing, I returned to her side, and informed her, “I can’t come tomorrow. I have three shifts, but I’ll be back the day after.”
She smiled at me and said, “Give the nurses your number.”
“Why?” I knew the answer.
She wanted them to call me when she died.
Wanted the call to spare me a trip to the hospital.
Oh, God.
The Professor: A Standalone Novel Page 4