“I work out with the weights there,” which explained his gorgeous body, “but they also have a running track that’s free to the public. We can go together, I’ve wanted to incorporate some cardio in my workouts anyway.”
I didn’t protest the rides again. I wasn’t too upset really, with all the murders lately and the whole Funhouse fiasco, it was comforting not to have to walk to and from school alone.
I was also enjoying my time delivering lunches to the shut-ins. Since I was now part of the Lunch Swap team, I had to wear a uniform. It consisted of jeans and a white tee shirt with the Lunch Swap insignia; a ham sandwich embroidered on the left breast pocket. Seth said it was okay to wear the jeans to school if I wanted. I questioned whether the owner would be angry if I did, but he reassured me the guy was a cuddly old teddy bear, and I didn’t have a thing to worry about.
“Mr. McSheehy’s hip is almost healed,” Seth said as we pulled up in front of the small house on Front Street. I was relieved to hear he was doing better. I’d been adding some of the chicken from my lunches into his, hoping the extra protein would help expedite his healing. “Did you notice he was using a cane last week?” I nodded as he handed me McSheehy’s lunch. “And have you also noticed he has a crush on you?”
“Seth, Mr. McSheehy is 87, I doubt he has a crush on me, he’s too old.”
“Once you reach 87 you no longer have feelings?” He cocked a quizzical brow at me. “Watch how he acts while we’re here, it’s as if I don’t exist.” I shook my head and walked up to his door. “I’ll leave you two alone if you want.” I playfully smacked him on the chest as the door flew open before we could knock. There stood Mr. McSheehy with a huge grin on his face.
“Hello, Maggie, you look lovely.” He hugged me gently. I could hear Seth’s quiet laughter as he closed the door behind us.
“Hello, Seth, how are you?” Mr. McSheehy shook Seth’s hand, not nearly as warm a greeting as I received. “Tell me, son, what took you so long to bring this lovely lady with you?” He directed us over to some chairs and we sat down. “She’s easier on the eyes than old Sam.” He patted my hand as Seth coughed to cover his laugh.
“My dear, please don’t be offended, but I’ve noticed the sad state of your shoes. I’d like to help.”
Shoot! I’d forgotten to tuck them under my chair. He drew a small worn leather coin purse out of his pocket and began digging out some money. “Son, please take her shopping for new shoes after you leave here.”
“No!” I softly pressed Mr. McSheehy’s hand and coin purse back. “Thank you anyway. I’ve planned on getting some new shoes, and just haven’t had time to go to the mall yet.” I felt terrible for lying, but there was no way I was taking money from a sweet old man who barely had enough to live on as it was.
“Mr. McSheehy, I’ll take her shopping as soon as we’re done here. Next week you won’t recognize her feet.”
“You two had better get going. It’s supposed to snow six to ten inches tonight and those shoes will never do. I’d miss you if you became ill and didn’t come,” he said, patting my hand gently. “You remind me of my daughter, she was lovely also, and kind, like you. She died of influenza when she was only sixteen,” he said though teary eyes. “Be off with you now. Scoot.”
“I guess this disproves your crush theory,” I said, climbing back into his car.
“That was really sweet.” He made a U-turn, heading in the opposite direction of my house.
“I thought he was our last delivery, where are we going?” I double-checked the list to make sure.
“To buy you some shoes.” He looked at me as if it was obvious.
“I didn’t bring any money.” I didn’t have any money.
“You can pay me back later.”
“Seth,” I swallowed hard. “I can’t…”
He pulled over to the side of the road. “Maggie, you know I can easily afford this, right?” He cupped my chin in his hand. “Please let me help, as a friend.”
I thought for a moment. “Okay, but,” I said, holding up a finger, “only if you’ll let me work them off, like I am with the jacket. I’ll continue helping you deliver lunches until you feel like I’ve paid you back, fair and square.”
“Deal.” He smiled and slowly pulled my face close to his, kissing my cheek. My poor heart went crazy. “Still friends, right?” I nodded, mostly because I couldn’t speak. “Good, let’s go shopping!” He held my face a moment longer before letting go.
Seth took me into several shoe stores in the mall, each one more expensive than the other, and I refused to try on the shoes. Finally giving up, he asked which store I wanted to try. I dragged him to a discount shoe store where I’d once gotten shoes as a child. The Shoe Horse.
A huge sign hung above the door of a black stallion rearing up on his haunches wearing white high-top sneakers. Several years ago, a neighbor had brought me here while shopping for her little girl. The store offered a ’Buy one, get one free’ sale, and she let me have the free pair, even allowing me to choose the pair I wanted; shiny pink shoes with black bows. I wore them until the soles clapped when I walked and my toes bled from being pinched at the end.
“Maggie, these are not very good shoes, they’ll hardly last a year.” Shaking his head, he flipped the shoes over and looked at the soles.
“But look.” I pointed to an aged sign in the store window. It looked like the same sign that hung there all those years ago. I got the impression this ’Buy one, get one free’ sale happened often.
“A deal isn’t always a deal.”
“I think you want me to buy expensive shoes so I’ll have to keep helping you deliver the lunches,” I teased.
“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. We’re going back to the expensive store for sure.”
“I’ll help you until college starts, I promise. Are you sure the people who run the charity don’t mind?”
“I can do whatever I want.” He smiled angelically. With that face, I didn’t doubt it.
I tried on a pair of heavy-duty brown shoes. They weren’t exactly attractive, but they’d keep my feet warm and dry. Neither rain nor snow could possibly get through these ugly bad boys and they were marked down, a bonus. Seth made a face when I showed him. He picked out a pair of slick black snow boots from the window display that were really cute. He gave the thumbs up after I tried them on.
He wandered off toward a display of socks as I placed the ugly shoes back in the box. My eyes landed on a pair of black, strappy pumps on display next to me. Unable to resist, I quickly slipped them on. They look so pretty. I walked over to a mirror and pulled up the hem of my jeans a few inches to get a better view.
“They look good on you, Maggie.” I spun around quickly and lost my balance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He held my arm to steady me.
“I’m fine.” I hurried over to a stool and slid them off, putting my holey shoes back on. “They’re not practical. I doubt I’d ever wear them.”
“Sometimes you need to step outside your comfort zone. It’s okay to let your hair down and take a few risks. It’s not as scary as you think and it’s certainly more fun.” I got the feeling we were no longer talking about shoes.
“I’ll just take these two pair, thanks.”
I gathered both pair and took them to the register. Outside the store, he led me to a bench in the mall, and removing the ugly brown shoes from the box, he handed them to me with a contorted frown. I laughed and gave him my holey shoes.
“May I?” he asked, holding them over a trash can.
“No, I’ve had them for a long time. They’ve served me well.”
“Why do you still need them?”
“They’ll make good slippers. If I come home from school and my shoes are wet, I can slip those on.” I beamed proudly at my prudent thinking. “And thank you, Seth. You really didn’t have to do this.”
“You’re welcome, though I could’ve gotten you slippers too.”
He gave me the leftover lunches
when we arrived at my house. Tucking the shoeboxes under his arm, he walked me to the door.
“Thanks for your help today.”
“You’re welcome. Why do you need my help delivering the lunches anyway?”
“I like the company.” He ran his hand through my hair, playfully ruffling it up. “A friend of mine named Sam used to help deliver the lunches. He’s 92 and had a stroke a few months back and it became too much for him. You’ve met his grandson Booker the other night at the festival. He’s the detective who interviewed us.”
Cute Detective Booker Gatto was a friend of Seth’s? Small world.
“Thanks again, for everything.” I rested my back against the doorframe and watched him drive away, wishing I didn’t care for him as much as I did. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, just friends, that’s all I wanted, no matter how much my heart screamed at my head for more. I tossed my silly heart’s ranting out and went inside.
There was blood everywhere.
14
“MOM!” I followed the blood trail to the bathroom and found her in a heap next to the toilet, moaning. “Mom, what’s wrong?” I dropped to the floor and pulled her frail body into my arms, searching for wounds.
“What do you think is wrong?” she hissed. “I’m sick, you stupid child.” A fountain of blood abruptly gushed from her mouth, spattering my clothes.
***
We arrived at the hospital via an ambulance. They immediately rushed my mom away while an aide abandoned me in a dreary waiting area off to the side. I was left alone to pick at some loose threads on the sea foam green couch under the annoying flickering of fluorescent lights for nearly three hours. If someone didn’t talk to me soon, I was going to go mad.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Colter. Are you here with Barbara Brown?” I jumped at the deep rich voice of the long-legged doctor as he stepped toward me. I had to tilt my head back to see his face. He wore brown leather clogs and blue scrubs that intensified the color of his deep blue eyes. His golden blond hair softly framed his gentle face, and when he stepped closer, I noticed a few freckles peppered across the bridge of his straight nose, giving his handsomely chiseled face a youthful appearance. He also had a small round bandage on the underside of his jaw.
“I’m assuming you’re her daughter, Maggie, correct?” I nodded again and shook his hand. “I need to ask you some questions, if that’s alright.” He proceeded with a few routine questions about her health history, making notes on her chart as I answered. He then went straight to the root of the problem. “Does your mother have a drinking problem?” I whispered a yes and lowered my eyes to the ground. “For how long?”
When has my mother not had a drinking problem? “She’s been drinking all my life.”
He led me over to the couch, and I sat down. “Maggie, your mom has developed several ulcers along the lining of her stomach and the alcohol is exacerbating them, which was why she was throwing up blood. I’m afraid she’ll need to stay here for a few days. We’ll have to give her a blood transfusion, and I’d like to admit her to our Detox program, though she’s insisting she doesn’t have a drinking problem.”
In my dreams! I shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
“She is also refusing to let us do any further tests on her. I’d want to check her liver and pancreatic functions,” he said, sitting down next to me. “Her coloring is somewhat poor, and I’m afraid she has other health issues, apart from the ulcers, that should be addressed. Without running the tests, we can’t treat her properly. Will you speak with her over the next couple of days and encourage her to let us do the tests?”
“Sure, I’ll try.” Although, I knew she wouldn’t listen to me either. He led me to her room, and before leaving told me she’d been sedated and probably wouldn’t be awake until tomorrow. A nurse brought me a pillow and blanket, along with some clean hospital scrubs to change into. In my rush to get to the hospital, I’d forgotten about the blood all over my clothes.
I slept very little in the lounge chair next to my mother’s bed and rose with the sun the next morning. I spent the rest of the day wandering around the hospital thinking about the homework I couldn’t do and watching my mother sleep. When she was awake, she’d yell at me to “get her out of this stinking place.” Dr. Colter came in to see her shortly before dinner.
“Hi. I haven’t been able to speak to my mom about the tests yet. She’s slept most of the day.”
“The medication she’s on tends to cause drowsiness. I’m hoping to take her off it tomorrow.” He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You should go home and get some rest, you’re exhausted. Is there a phone number we can reach you at?” I gave him the phone number of my neighbor, Mr. Hoffman, and left, taking the bag of soiled clothes with me.
The sun had all but disappeared over the horizon, and the heavens shone in ribbons of orange and deep red. It felt peaceful, and I walked slowly to drink it in. All too quickly, the sky began fading to an inky black, the peaceful feeling vanished, and I now felt unsafe. I tightened my grip on the bag and continued for home, exhausted, mentally and physically.
“Hi, what are you doing out here alone?” It was Booker Gatto in his police cruiser. He smiled at me as if we were old friends while his eyes combed down my scrubs. “Nice outfit. Do you work at the hospital?”
“Hello.” I gave him the short version of a long story. “I was visiting someone, and I’m on my way home now.”
“How are you getting there?”
“I was going to take the bus, but I forgot my money.” I wondered how much trouble you could get into for lying to a police officer. “I guess I’m walking.”
“Miss Brown, I’ll take you home. I can’t in good conscience let you walk home alone.” Since I was dead on my feet, I was glad he offered. I slumped down into his car and tried not to fall asleep with the car’s gentle rocking.
“How’s our mutual friend doing?” he asked. I looked at him, bewildered. “Seth Prescott,” he reminded me. I nodded; my mind was still back at the hospital.
“Yes, he mentioned he knows your grandfather. They volunteer at the same charity, the Lunch Swap.”
Booker laughed, “Lunch Swap is Seth’s charity.”
“His charity?”
“Yes. His father started it and after he died, Seth took over.” You could have knocked me over with a feather. Seth Prescott, a senior in high school, owns the Lunch Swap.
Oh, no! I had completely forgotten about helping Seth today. I couldn’t call him and apologize since we didn’t have a phone, and even if we did, I didn’t have his number. Just when I thought it was impossible to feel any worse.
Captain Gatto and I exchanged a few pleasantries, he insisted I call him Booker from here on out, and he dropped me off at my house. I hesitated on the porch, not looking forward to the mess ahead of me, but I had homework inside waiting to be tackled and standing on the porch wouldn’t get it done.
I opened the door wanting to shut it again straightaway. It smelled worse than I’d remembered. Dragging out the cleaning supplies, I began scrubbing. Thankfully, we didn’t have carpeting otherwise it would have taken a lot longer than two hours to finish. After several more hours of grueling math homework, I finally crawled into bed at 2:20 in the morning.
When the alarm went off at 6:45 a few short hours later, it took every ounce of my self-control not to chuck it across the room. While showering, thoughts of not only my mother, but also of Seth were front and foremost on my mind. I had misjudged him terribly, he was a pretty terrific guy. He owned the Lunch Swap. How many eighteen year-olds did charity work, let alone owned the charity?
After dressing, I started toward Mr. Hoffman’s house to use his phone, meeting up with Gertie, my elderly neighbor from across the street instead. She was letting her demon cat inside and asked me in for a freshly baked cookie. I explained my need to call the hospital, and she insisted I use her new cell phone, a recent gift from her grandchildren. I followed her as she waddled slo
wly inside. Her stupid cat I’d nicknamed Lucifer was hissing and spitting at me the entire time.
Her home was smaller than ours, but it had a welcoming ambience to it. The mouth-watering smell of hot chocolate chip cookies permeated my nostrils, along with the stench of litter box. My eyes turned to the cat and it hissed at me once more.
There were small, hand-crocheted doilies on the backs of all the chairs, and a large one covering the middle of the couch. She had several worn area rugs throughout the living room and kitchen, and two antique lamps that flooded the room with rosy lighting. Her fridge was covered in photographs of her children, grandchildren, and three recent additions. “My great-grandchildren,” she pointed out proudly.
I made the call and thanked her for the use of her phone. “Here, my dear,” she said, handing me a bag of cookies as I was leaving. “Have a good day at school, and dress warmly.” Homemade cookies, the last time I had them was when my grandmother and I baked some the morning of our car accident.
I rushed back over to my drab house to finish getting ready. I just finished brushing my teeth when someone knocked at the door. Fearing the worst, my heart immediately began pounding.
Stay calm, Maggie. You talked to the hospital, she’s fine. Despite my calming words, I ripped the door open so fast I was surprised it didn’t fly off the hinges.
“Seth!” I took a step back. He wasn’t at all whom I had expected.
“Aren’t you going to school today?”
"Yes, I’ll get my stuff." I scooped up my book bag and followed him out to his car.
“About Lunch Swap on Sunday, I’m sorry, something came up, and I completely forgot about it. I owe you double time now.”
“Don’t be silly. I understand.”
“I feel awful. We don’t have a phone, so I couldn’t call you, not to mention I don’t have your number.”
Unlovable Page 14