by Cary Hart
“Did this just really happen?” I swivel to face Rain. “I have a place to stay?”
“I told you I would take care of this.”
“I’m not going to be homeless?”
“Ellie, we could have snuck you into the pool house, but this?” She swirls her finger in the air. “This was meant to happen. I was in here the other day, getting my protein fix, when I overheard Jake talking to someone about the apartment.”
“I didn’t even know there was apartments up there,” I interrupt.
“I know! Neither did I, but apparently there are two and now one of them is yours.”
“I’m not going to have to sleep with him, am I?” Dread starts to fill the pit of my stomach. Jake isn’t a bad looking guy, but I do have some morals.
“Well, he’s nothing like his brother—”
“OH MY GOD, you didn’t whore me out for a room.” I raise my voice forgetting there are people surrounding me. The blonde turns, giving me a look.
“You should see the look on your face.” She attempts to get the last drop from her empty glass before standing. “You done?” She motions to my food.
“Yeah. I’m just not feeling good.”
“Cindy, can we get a to-go box and the check please?” Rain picks up her purse and lays down the tip.
“It’s on Jake,” Cindy says as she walks toward us, grabbing a box on her way. “I’ll tell him you are ready.”
I watch Cindy round the corner before I speak up. “So, what exactly is the exchange? I mean, no one is going to let me stay here for free.”
“I’m not sure yet, but I trust Jake.” She pulls me up and into a hug. “El, please don’t worry,” she whispers into my hair. “I know it’s scary, but you wanted this.”
“I know.” My words are barely a whisper.
“You’re free. Time to live your dreams.” Rain lets go of me. “Time to do you, babe.” She reaches up, brushing a lone tear from my cheek.
“You’re right! Time to do me.” I smile weakly.
“Yeah, you will!” She winks. “Now, let’s go see what a fresh start looks like.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Now don’t get your hopes up,” Jake warns us as we follow him upstairs. “It’s not much, but I think it’ll work for you.” He unlocks the door.
“Seriously Jake, if it has a bed, bathroom and coffee pot, I’m good.” I bounce from foot to foot, nervous that I’m going to walk through these doors and see someplace I can call home, only for him to whip out a contract, the catch. Losing it all.
“I think we can do a little bit better than that.” He wiggles the knob. “If we can get this damn knob to turn,” Jake huffs out as he pulls the key out and tries again.
“Lift up on the knob and push in,” a man says as he comes around the corner, heading for the apartment across the hall. “I thought that apartment was for the talent?” He heads in, slamming the door behind him.
“That’s Shapiro.” Jake pushes up and in. “Well look at that.” He swings the door wide for us to walk through. “Feel free to look around, but I do need an answer by the end of today.”
Rain pushes through, but I stand still, frozen. I need this to work out, but what if it doesn’t? What if I walk in there and it’s a shithole or,
worse, what if I love it and I can only stay if I agree to give him my left kidney or part of a lung or some weird crap like that.
“Seriously, El.” I can almost hear Rain’s eyes roll. “Get your ass in here.” She turns around and grabs me by the elbow. “You are going to
love it!” She turns me toward her and grips my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes. “Trust a little.” She forces me to look.
My eyes dart from the kitchen to the living room to the bed to the bathroom and repeat. How can something this nice be compacted into such a small area?
“This is…” I turn around in a circle, making sure I don’t miss anything. “I mean, it’s everything.” It’s a small loft, but it has it all. Fully equipped kitchen, island with seating, leather loveseat and flat screen TV.
“El, this is so cool! Looks like a bachelor pad.” Rain goes to stand by Jake. “Let’s cut to the chase and tell us exactly what it is you need.”
“Well, once your friend here texted me who she was bringing by, I did my research and apparently we had you on our list to contact for a weekly gig.” Jake pulls a rolled-up sheet of paper from his back pocket.
“I’ll take it!” I blurt out.
“Well, there’s more. We need a bartender-slash-waitress,” he says as he closes the distance between us, handing me the paper. “Basically, if you work these hours, and play this many times a week, you can stay here for free.”
“That’s awesome, but she will have no money for food and her other bills.” Rain chimes in as I smooth out the paper and read over the terms.
“You will get to keep all tips. During the afternoon rush that could be around a couple hundred dollars, but I think we could find a spot for you one night a week. I want to say they make…” His lips purse while he thinks, keeping me on edge. “An average of about four hundred a night.”
“I’ll take it!” My voice comes out as a shout as I wave the paper in the air. “Where do I sign?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Rain jumps her way over to me, causing me to do the same. The room is filled with squeals and shouts. “Thanks Jake!” She jumps right into his arms.
“No problem, Bow.” He sets her back down. “I just need to know how long you plan on staying.”
Staying?
I haven’t really thought about it. If I would have had the money, I would have left today. “I’m not sure.”
“We can leave it open-ended. Just make sure if you decide to leave us for bigger and better things, you give us the courtesy of a two-week notice.”
“That I can do!” I set the paper down on the island and dig through my purse for a pen.
Eloise Hawthorne.
My signature is a sad reminder of who I was. But I’ll have a new life here, the start of who I’m about to become.
“Can she move in today?” Rain stands there chomping her gum as she types out a text, her face scrunching up. “Did you tell your brother I was here?”
“Sure. You can keep those.” He points to the keys on the island. “I’ll just need this.” Jake swoops up the paper. “And Rain, I think we need to talk.”
“Fine.” She pulls me in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you! This is exactly what you needed and I’m so proud of you for going after your dream. Don’t ever give up.” She gives me a tight squeeze before letting
go. “I’m just going to grab your bag out of the car.”
“Thank you for everything.” I begin to tear up as I follow them out. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t show up today.”
Waving me off as they leave, Rain turns around. “You would have walked your ass into town and found a way to Nashville.” She wags her finger at me. “There is no doubt in my mind about that. You, my friend, are destined to be someone, but it’s up to you to find out who.” She turns back around and heads down the hall, leaving me alone in my new apartment.
My apartment.
Exhaling a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I walk around the room, touching everything within reach. This is mine. I live here. Alone. All my life I have lived with someone. My parents, in a dorm, friend’s house in Nashville, Rain’s. But today, I have a place. Mine.
A perfect start to a new beginning.
Chapter Six
Lee
Why?
It’s a question I ask myself daily. How can someone with so much more life to live forget how to live it?
Forget her past?
Forget me?
I thought I had more time to figure things out. To get the resources together to place her in a home that would be able to care for her. Instead of listening to the doctor, I held on to hope.
I thought if the good moments
outweighed the bad, we were fine. We would go days, sometimes months, without having an episode, making it easy to wait one more day.
Then one day became two, and two became a month, and a month became three years.
Three years since Grans had been diagnosed and we were surviving.
Until now.
In the beginning I didn’t understand. I thought if we had a neighbor check in on her daily, we would be fine
I was wrong.
I thought if I held on to the good moments and forgot the bad, that we could prepare not only mentally, but financially. I wasn’t ready to make the arrangements that I’m being informed I need to make. Now, I pull into the only home I have ever known to a driveway of first responders.
“Dammit!” I shout, slamming my palm against the steering wheel.
They’re here because of me. Because of my neglect. I assumed that she would be with me forever.
I need her to be.
Coming to a stop, I put my truck in park and hop out. I’m running to the house when I hear Katie, a retired teacher and our neighbor, shout. “Lee! Over here!”
I jog over to the ambulance where Katie is sitting in back, holding Grans’ hand as they check her out. I can’t help but worry. Will she know me?
When she was first diagnosed, I did a little bit of research before I slammed my laptop shut and pushed it to the back of my mind. Grans is strong, alert and young. There is no way this will happen to her.
But it has.
Is there a way I could have prolonged this if I dug deeper? Maybe I could have found a research study to put her in, or a clinical trial? By ignoring it, did I make it come faster? Is this my fault?
“Grans?” I whisper her name, knowing she can’t hear me.
“Lee, she’s fine.” Katie reaches with her other hand to take mine and continues in her “teacher voice.” “She was boiling chicken to make dumplings, then laid down for a nap.”
“Are you Lee Scott?” The fire chief walks up to me, notepad in
hand.
“Yes, sir.”
“Your neighbor here,” he tilts his head in Katie’s direction, “filled me in on your grandmother’s situation.”
“How bad is it?” I interrupt, asking him a loaded question.
“Well, she’s lucky you had Katie here checking in. Apparently when she went to boil the chicken she failed to fill the pot with water, causing the chicken to eventually catch fire. Katie was able to get your grandmother, who was pretty disoriented, out of the house before she called nine-one-one and went back in with an extinguisher.”
“Katie?” I look up and examine her face, giving her hand a squeeze. I need for her to tell me Grans was just tired, that she didn’t forget what she was doing or where she was at.
“I don’t know, Lee,” Katie responds. “But she fell when I was trying to get her out of the house and hit her head on the corner of the nightstand.”
“Oh God.” I throw my head back, closing my eyes, inhaling the evening air. I try to push back the fear of what could have happened.
“Son, this is not your fault. It was one hundred percent accidental.” The fire chief clasps my shoulder. “You have maybe a couple thousand dollars in smoke and fire damages, but lives weren’t lost. You got to hold on to that.”
“Thank you, sir.” I release Katie’s hand and extend it to the chief. “For all your help.”
“It’s what we’re here for.” He gives me a firm shake and heads back to his crew.
“Mr. Scott?” the EMT calls out, drawing my attention back to Grans.
“How is she?”
“Honestly, she gave us a hard time when we first got here, but once we got the IV in she relaxed and fell asleep.”
“I’m NOT asleep.” Grans pops open an eye. “I was simply resting my eyes.”
“Mrs. Scott, in other words, passed out when she saw the needle, but given the fall, we want to have her checked out.” The EMT is smirking at Grams.
“The hell if you are!” she shouts, sitting up.
“Grans, please lay back down,” I plead.
“Whoa.” Gran begins to lower herself back down. “Lee, you really shouldn’t spin around like that.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay, twirling. Why are you twirling?” She chuckles.
“I’m not twirling either.” I’m irritated.
“Maybe you should.” She taps her IV. “Hit me big boy.”
“You gave her morphine?” I pull myself up into the truck then help Katie get down.
“No, but I told her I was since that was the only way she was going to allow me to get close with a needle. She needed fluids,” he says defensively.
“I live with her. Trust me, I get it.” I let out a much-needed laugh.
“We are going to take her to the hospital to get her head checked out. You riding along?” He jumps out, and his partner climbs in.
“Yeah.” I holler out to Katie, “You around later?”
“Whatever you need, Lee. You got my number. Call and I’ll come up.” Katie gives me a weak smile.
“Wait! I need Biscuit!” Grans tries to push herself up, but the EMT beside me settles her down.
“We can get you something to eat when we get there. After the doctor checks you over.” He winks.
But I know she’s not talking about food. Biscuit was the Yorkshire Terrier my grandfather gave her. Her baby. The problem? He died two years ago.
“Grans, Biscuit…” I swallow the word I dread to say. “Died.”
“Presley Aaron Scott!” She uses my full name as a curse. The name I have tried for so long to forget. “I may be getting old, but I’m not senile.”
“But you asked for—”
“My pillow?” She stares at me wide-eyed like I’m the idiot, and right now, I feel like one. “The one with a picture of Biscuit on it.” She rolls her eyes at me, something she has been doing more frequently. “Don’t tell me you thought…” She examines my face. “Presley, you’re telling your grans that you thought…” She shakes her head. “You did! I just need it to sleep. The pillow. Not my dead dog.”
Thank God.
Each time she forgets something, I cringe knowing what’s to come.
Obsession.
Is it normal? Is it the disease? Is it my imagination?
“Presley? Your grans needs Biscuit,” she begs.
“Guys, can you give me two minutes? This pillow…it’s
sentimental,” I plead.
“Sure thing,” they both agree.
Jumping down from the ambulance, I hurry into the house. On the way back my phone begins to vibrate in my back pocket. I pull it out and see it’s Drew.
Crap!
So much for the promotion. Between me and Justin we had the site almost prepared for the landscapers, but then I got the call from Katie about the fire.
I left Justin with strict orders and tried to call Drew, but he didn’t answer. I had no choice but to leave him a quick voicemail about what is going on, hoping that he understood.
Being on the phone with Drew while riding in back of an ambulance with Grans…what to do? It’s a no-brainer. After sending him to voicemail, I shoot him a quick text saying that everyone is fine, and I’ll fill him in tomorrow.
This is beyond my control. If I lose a promotion or hell, even my job, over this, then I do. Reaching the truck, I hop up and the EMT shuts the doors one at a time.
“Is this what prison feels like?” Grans wonders.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“How about you?” She nods to the EMT sitting next to me. “You have all those markings all over your body. You been to the slammer?”
“Grans!” I reprimand.
“What? I was watching this show—”
“Forgive her.” I cut Grans off before she can tell us about some show she saw on the ID Channel.
“I guess you really should have given me morphine.” She winks to the poor guy. “That’s it!” Her eyes light. “You w
ere a drug dealer or wait, maybe you were a supplier? They all have those things.” She points to his arm.
“Apparently, I’m your drug dealer.” He winks, making Grans smile.
“Not yet.” She winks back.
“Am I in the twilight zone?” I bring my hands up and rub my face, trying anything to rid myself of the memories of today. I feel the phone vibrate and when I pull it from my pocket I see I have a text from Drew.
Drew: No worries. Family first.
Four words is all it takes to ease my mind. I still have a job. Whether or not I get the promotion…I can’t let that bother me. Right now, all my free time will be going to finding a place for Grans when the time comes.
I’m going to check into home health care. What happened today will not happen again.
Losing more time with Grans is not an option.
Chapter Seven
Ellie
As I reach my arms above my head and stretch my legs, a yawn escapes—a reflection of the morning that came too soon.
Before, I would have closed my eyes, snoozed the alarm and tested the limits of punctuality. But today, I’m excited. You would think after a couple of weeks of the same routine that it would get old—the late nights and early mornings—but it doesn’t.
Even though this is a life I was forced into, it was my choice that led to the circumstances. No regrets.
Or so I tell myself. I guess I would be lying if I were to say it didn’t bother me how the events unfolded. I tried to raise my voice so I could be heard, but my wants fell upon deaf ears. Especially my father’s. My mom, she loved my father and even though she tried to support and fight for me as much as she could, when it came down to it, she chose him. She would always choose him.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I welcome the coldness of the ceramic floor as I pad to the kitchen. Heating the kettle of water causes me to miss the mornings I spent at the house. Maggie, every morning, would bring up a tray filled with pastries, fruit and tea for two.
To some this would look like I had S.R.G.S., otherwise known as spoiled rich girl syndrome, but not so. Maggie was more than a housekeeper. She was my nanny, like a second mother. Those mornings, she brought me tea, but I fixed her one as well.