“Insurance should cover all of it, minus the deductible.”
He tilted her chin up, kissing her lightly on the lips, as she thought about her credit card buried under the wasted Heat tickets, the remnants of Gretel’s dental work, the peach chiffon dress, the ticket to Portland, the parking garage fee, and now the deductible. She leaned into him, his heart thudding in her ear.
During the drive up she tried to explain about the ghosts of her past.
While he seemed to have moved past his initial annoyance, she wondered if there was a cold spot—something intangible and unavailable dwelling inside that she hadn’t recognized or had simply ignored. The realization hit her hard. Even if the relationship wasn’t working, it was still sad. And the truth, if she looked carefully, was that everything had to be on Luke’s terms. Why was she always apologizing? Why was he so inflexible? Still, she wasn’t ready to give up on them. Not yet. Although the trip had eaten up the entire day, she asked if he wanted to stay for dinner.
“I have to pop by the office for a while,” he said a little too glibly. “Rain check?”
Hannah peered over the railing. “How’s the car?”
“Runs like a dream.”
“Then I’m not grounded anymore?”
“We’ll talk about it.”
She turned back to Luke and asked with self-conscious bravado, “So we’re good?”
Holding her shoulders he kissed the top of her head. “You bet.”
Even with his reassurance ringing in her ears, she had the sinking feeling that they were crumbling—dancing to music that had stopped the minute Teena called with bad news.
CHAPTER 58
IN A HIGHLY unusual precedent, the proposed covers for Cara’s romance and Lana’s cozy mystery were circulating through the office. Typically, Bryan Frost exercised his executive privilege as CEO to make all final decisions. Perhaps he wanted to include the staff to encourage participation in the current contest. Whatever his reasoning, chatter in the usually quiet office was at a fever pitch as colleagues gathered in the break room offering up opinions.
Alexa liked the cover for Love Times Three. The photo showed the back of triplets with their dark hair tumbling like waterfalls over their shoulders as they gazed at a holiday tree awash with ornaments. Lana’s nearly perfect book had been retitled The Cat’s Shadow with two kitties sitting side-by-side gazing out the window at a bloody corpse in the snow. Did her chat with Bryan contribute to the switch-up? No matter what, she felt vindicated.
The larger question was: How did they plan to make Lana Cox presentable for book signings? Crystal, somewhat of an outcast herself, said, “It’ll take a freaking miracle.” She wasn’t wrong.
At her desk Alexa found another interoffice packet. Helen Parry had six of the eight chapters completed, all of them virtually perfect, which was quite amazing for a first-time author. She stuck her hand in and fished around until her fingertips touched an envelope. Glancing around, she opened the flap. Three bills. That put her halfway to full reimbursement. She stuffed the packet in her messenger bag and sent Helen a quick thank you text.
Next, she popped into Zev’s office. “They found my car.”
“Excellent.” He stroked his short, dark beard. “When my son was fifteen, he had a party while Elisha and I were out of town. It went viral. The kids were a pack of rabid animals.”
“How bad?”
“Ten grand. Only half was covered by insurance.”
“Did you take it out of your son’s allowance?”
Zev smiled, showing crooked, coffee-stained teeth. “He’ll be paying until he’s forty.”
“It really wasn’t Hannah’s fault.”
“It never is. Have you thought over my suggestion?”
“Why can’t they just drive off into the sunset like Julia Roberts and Richard Gere in Pretty Woman or John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John in Grease?
“Does that really happen?” he asked. “People talk about happily ever after, but it’s not a thing.”
“Rick didn’t deserve what happened. He almost died.”
“And neither did my sister. Living can be cruel, but also quite beautiful.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
________
Over the past few weeks a steady stream of daily updates had dropped into her phone. According to Teena, the swelling in Rick’s brain had subsided. The top of his skull had been glued back on, but she wondered if there’d be any lasting brain damage. The medical team thought he was well enough to start physical therapy for the broken arm and shattered leg. But Alexa found the constant barrage of information and the emotional tug of writing about their roller coaster relationship spanning two decades, caused a tremendous knot of anxiety. As a person, she wanted to be prophetic about Rick’s ongoing recovery. In other words, Brad Stone would live.
But as a writer, she wanted to be idealistic about her chance of winning. In other words, Brad Stone died.
If she let him live, would he remain true to the girlfriend, marry her, and live happily ever after? Or would she always be a reminder that he was intoxicated and speeding when he lost control and the truck exploded into a fireball? Even more important, who was the mysterious girlfriend? Could she write about another woman in Rick’s life without interjecting herself? The answers eluded her as her work phone rang. She picked it up immediately.
“Mrs. Boswell?”
“Yes.”
“This is Nurse Lori at Pelican Middle School. I need Hannah picked up immediately.”
Beads of perspiration pimpled her brow.
“What’s the matter, is she okay?”
“I believe she has pneumonia. She should see a doctor immediately.”
Grabbing her purse, Alexa shot like a bullet through the front door and rammed her car into reverse. Pulling out into traffic, she drove like an emergency vehicle on the way to a pileup. She arrived at school worried sick.
“What took you so long?” asked Hannah. Her face was flushed and her beautiful green eyes dull as she launched into a coughing fit, unable to catch her breath. Wrapping her arms around her abdomen, she doubled over.
“You shouldn’t have sent her to school,” chastised Nurse Lori, making Alexa feel like a Bad Mom.
“I didn’t know she was ill.”
“Her temp is one-oh-three. She should be home in bed or better yet, the hospital.”
Alexa took Hannah’s backpack and helped her to the car. They drove straight to the walk-in clinic, signed in, and handed over the insurance cards. It was still flu season and the waiting room was filled with elderly patients coughing and sneezing. Alexa leaned over, speaking softly as the plasma TV played one of the daytime cooking shows.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Why didn’t you say something?”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
“Nothing is more important than you. Nothing!”
“Not even Luke or your book or Rick?”
“No.” She put her hand on Hannah’s arm. It was hot. She was burning up. “Nothing in the world is more important than you.”
“It’s okay Mom. Stop worrying.” She began coughing again.
“I thought it was allergies.”
“Alexa Boswell?” She glanced around to see who was calling.
The young African-American billing clerk waved at her. She stood up, stomach dropping as she walked toward him. “Is there a problem?” she asked. “I paid in full last time we were here, although that girl wasn’t even related to me.”
“Yes, but your real daughter hasn’t met the deductible on her policy. We’ll need payment upon discharge.”
“What?”
“This is a child-only policy. But there hasn’t been a claim this calendar year. I just wanted you to know.”
She returned to Hannah shaking her head in disgust.
“Now what?�
�
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“Just money. No worries.”
“Then let’s talk about Rick.” Hannah coughed into the crook of her arm.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“You’re not thinking of moving to Portland are you? I won’t go.” She paused. “Just saying.”
Alexa wondered if Hannah was delirious. “Nobody’s moving. Let’s just get you better. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.”
“Okay. Then I guess I should tell you something.”
“Tell me what?”
No more bad news. Not today.
Hannah looked down into her lap and said softly, “I’m pregnant.”
Alexa reeled back as though she’d been slapped. “WHAT?”
Heads swiveled around, at the sudden outburst.
“Quiet down. Don’t shout.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Language please!”
“How did it happen?”
“The usual way.”
“I... I... I thought you knew better.”
“Just nature taking its course.”
“I should never have allowed Doc in your bedroom. That’s off limits from now on.” Alexa pulled out her cellphone. “I’ll make an appointment with the doctor.”
“No worries.”
“No worries? That’s all you can say. I’m very worried.”
“I’m not.” Hannah smiled and coughed again.
“Why? This will change your whole life.”
“No it won’t. April Fool.”
Alexa glanced down at the phone. It was April first.
“Oh boy, you got me good.”
“I did. Snap.”
“So you’re not?”
“Nope, it’s all sunshine and rainbows with a touch of pneumonia.”
“Hannah Boswell.” A young man with a square face, rimmed glasses, and a thin goatee stood in the doorway in green scrubs. He held a clipboard.
Alexa said, “Let’s just get you better. That’s all that matters right now.”
“And that I’m not really pregnant.”
“Yes that too.”
Two hours later, they returned to their apartment with a bag containing various medicines and cough suppressant, a digital thermo-meter, five cans of chicken soup, and an ice pack. Hannah changed into pajamas and slid between the cool sheets. She was asleep within minutes. There would be no school for the rest of the week, but at least she wasn’t pregnant. Alexa kissed her daughter’s feverish forehead, closed the door, and slumped onto the couch.
Counting today’s financial setback and the deductible for the car repairs, she was another thousand in the hole. Why did cash fly out and money only trickle in? Then she realized three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills were in the messenger bag hanging over the back of her office chair. Hopefully, it would be there tomorrow. As she contemplated the rash of recent expenses, she realized they had it all wrong.
Money wasn’t the root of all evil. It was the answer to her financial troubles. She needed a fairy godmother with a magic wand or a winning lottery ticket.
But if her fate was to teeter on the financial brink, so be it. At least she had a job and her health and her daughter and no car payments. Even better, in addition to not being a grandma in nine months, there was always the possibility of winning the contest.
If only she could figure out how the book would end and how to stay solvent until then, everything would be A-OK. After all, it was only money.
She heard Hannah cough. She was an awful mother: inattentive and self-absorbed.
Lesson learned.
“Just get better,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 59
FAIR-SKINNED Sari Conklin baked like a burrito in the harsh and unforgiving sun. At this time of year it seemed to hang in the sky forever, scorching the land and everything else. After living on the cool, misty Pacific Northwest, she was unaccustomed to the brutality of the dry, hot weather. The temperatures rose from a comfortable sixty before sunrise to ninety or more by mid-afternoon. Although she would have preferred sleeveless tops and shorts, she covered up with long-sleeves and pants, plus a wide-brimmed hat. The three-ton air conditioner ran non-stop as she trolled the internet for flights and hotels. Rob usually closed his artisan shop during August, but he’d agreed to shut down earlier for their trip to Florida.
Although she’d soon be free from the burden haunting her for decades, Alexa would have to shoulder the inevitable fallout. Sari recalled something she’d heard or read where a man tells his wife he’s had an affair thereby absolving himself—while transferring the burden onto to his spouse—making it her problem instead of his.
Learning the truth isn’t always a blessing in disguise—or any other way. The truth can set you free, fillet your gut, or make you whole again. Take your choice.
Nevertheless, too many secrets had been kept for too many years. It was time to open Pandora’s Box and release the poison of the past and pray it would set them all free. She sent Alexa an email with the proposed dates of their arrival and departure, adding the name of the hotel they’d booked in Deerfield Beach. She signed the email, Love Mom.
The love part was true.
In Florida, Hannah had made a full recovery from her bout with pneumonia. Although she and Doc were still a couple, they had agreed it was best to keep all options open. They’d both be eighth graders in the fall. Being exclusive over the long, hot summer didn’t seem practical since he was going to basketball camp and she’d been hired as a CIT at the local YMCA. Alexa sat on the couch with Hannah. The news took her by surprise. She was growing up fast, one of those millennial kids, or whatever her generation was called, who streamlined life and moved at the speed of light.
“I thought you liked Doc,” she said.
“I do, I like him a lot,” said Hannah. “But why limit our options? There’s a whole world out there to explore. Who knows, maybe there’ll be some hot guy at day camp and what am I supposed to say, ‘sorry my boyfriend is a thousand miles away?’ Does that make sense?”
Alexa pondered that for a while. If she and Rick hooked up, he’d be three times that far. Long-distance romances were crap, as Teena had so elegantly put it.
“As long as you’re happy.” Alexa patted Hannah’s knee. “You know that Grandma Sari is bringing her boyfriend Rob. I hope you’re okay with that.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it? She’s my grandma. I’ve never met her.”
“Yes, you have.”
“When? I don’t remember.”
Alexa dug deep into her memory bank and came up empty. Maybe Sari and Joe had flown out to Tarrytown to visit her and Mike on some random holiday, she couldn’t recall. Hannah was probably too young to remember. Hell, even she didn’t remember.
“I’m sorry about that. This is a good thing, but I mean I don’t know Rob at all. He could be a weirdo or psycho.”
“I see him on Facebook. He looks nice.”
“You do?”
“I see all Sari’s posts.”
Alexa cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t I know this?”
“It’s a wonder you remember where we live.”
“I’m on top of everything. Name one thing I’m not.”
“Did you know there really is a Travis Slade and he drives an Uber? He’s not just a figment of Zelda’s imagination or an ink-your-bus, or whatever you called it.”
“An incubus. Does he really visit her?”
“In your dreams.”
“In hers.” Alexa smiled at her own joke.
“Did you know Rick no longer needs a cane to walk?”
“I think I did.”
“Really? You think?”
“How do you know everything?”
“I text Luke and Teena almost every day,” said Hannah. “I check their Facebook pages, Twitter, and Instagram posts.”
“I’m shocked.”
“You
’re so out of it you might as well live on Pluto.”
“That may be true, but I’m almost finished with the novel.”
“What’s the title again, The Afterward?”
“The Aftermath. And I’ve been helping someone at the office with her book too.”
“Did you get paid extra?”
“I’m doing it as a favor.”
“Money talks.”
“I hear you. But I might need the favor returned some day.”
“I like the way you think Mom. You just edged up a notch.”
“Sweet.” Alexa cleverly skirted the fact that the favor was for the woman who dropped Gretel in their laps.
“Did you know Luke got a promotion? He flew up to Atlanta this weekend.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
She shrugged. “You’d better check on Zelda.”
“Okay. I’ll go now.”
A text pinged into Hannah’s phone. I’m excited to see you again and have you meet Rob. I hope everybody likes him.
“Who’s that from?”
“Grandma Sari, if you must know.”
“Everything okay?”
“It’s dope, Mom. Gucci. They’re coming for the July 4th weekend.”
“I know that much at least.”
“Are they going to meet Luke? What’s going on with you two?”
“We’re good.” That was a big fat lie. They were anything but good.
Although he asked her out on occasion for dinner and sex, whatever passion they once felt for each other had been diminished by the ever-present drama with Rick, her distraction with the novel, and his push to get to the top of the corporate ladder. His career seemed to override everything and she felt like a spider dangling from a silken thread. Any small gust of wind could blow her off, but it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. She no longer clung to a lame fantasy about building a future with him. Since coming back from Portland Alexa felt more self-sufficient, better able to cope with the vagaries of life.
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