Chapter 16 #2
Once someone answers the phone, I explain the situation surrounding my sister’s death and how I’m trying to figure out what may have been left to my nephew, such as any life insurance via her job or any other benefits he might be eligible for. Cindy, the person on the other end, listens quietly.
“What did you say your sister’s name was?”
“Anna Lisa Reed. She was a professor in quantitative biology and bioinformatics and had been on a sabbatical when the accident occurred.”
“One moment please.”
I wait on hold for several minutes before Cindy returns to the call. “Did I hear you correctly? Anna Lisa Reed?”
“Yes.”
“Did she go by any other names?”
I’m caught off guard by this question. “No. Not that I’m aware of.”
“No one by that name has ever worked here.”
“There has to be a mistake. She earned her doctorate there, too.”
“Let me look again.”
Several more minutes pass before a different voice comes on the phone.
“Hi, Aria, this is Janice, I’m the director of personnel at the university.”
I’m taken aback. I’ve been moved up the chain of command for unknown reasons. “Hi, uh, did Cindy explain my dilemma?”
“She did. I apologize for taking so long, but we wanted to make certain we didn’t miss anything. Your sister never worked here, nor did she attend school here.”
“Not even a bachelor’s degree?”
“Nothing.”
My stomach twists in knots. “That can’t be true.”
“I don’t know what she might’ve told you, but I assure you whatever she was doing, she wasn’t doing it here.”
“Thank you for all your help.” I don’t disguise my dejection.
“I wish I could’ve given you better news.
” She ends the call, and I stare at the phone numb with shock.
I don’t understand. If only I could discuss Anna’s situation with my parents.
I don’t have anyone. No friends, no family, no one.
It’s a sad state of affairs. I remind myself I do have Noah, and he’s what keeps me going.
I’m humiliated Drakos witnessed my meltdown yesterday. He was uncharacteristically kind and concerned. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is who he is. Yet he did give up rights to Noah, which is a huge black mark against him.
After a disheartening day of discovery, I leave for the practice facility late afternoon to pick up Noah. I lost track of time, and I’m late, which isn’t like me. His practice should be over by the time I get there.
Noah’s monthly rink fees are due in a few days, and I have no money to pay them. I’ll have to max out a credit card, which is close to its limit. There should be just enough for the fees.
Last night I explained to Noah about losing my job.
When he asked why, I didn’t sugarcoat it.
I told him I wasn’t proud of work I was doing.
I didn’t want to write lies anymore, which is what Charles wants.
Perhaps I told him too much, but he listened with a wisdom much older than his years and comforted me.
I assured him that nothing would change as far as he’s concerned other than I’ll be home more often.
I love Noah as if he were my own, and I’ll do anything and everything to see him thrive no matter the cost to me.
Charles didn’t waste any time replacing me.
A new guy, using the moniker Hockey Messiah, has already penned a scathing article on the Icehawks with made-up allegations of wild parties, altercations with hotel staff, and drunken brawls on the road trip.
I’m glad I don’t have any affiliation with that garbage anymore.
His outright lies anger me. I embellished and even fabricated here and there, but never to the extent Messiah is.
I slink toward the entrance to Rink Three where the kids are practicing. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I know I’m being paranoid, but I feel as if everyone is staring and laughing at me behind my back. They probably aren’t and haven’t noticed my byline is gone from All Hockey News.
I freeze when I hear Gardenia around the corner talking to Noah. I wait. I don’t want to face her right now.
“Aunt Aria lost her job.”
Noah, no, please don’t involve her. I’m embarrassed and horrified, even though the concern in his voice rips my heart open. The poor kid. I just wish he’d kept quiet about my adult problems. He shouldn’t be burdened with them.
“She did?” Gardenia sounds incredulous.
“Yeah, he didn’t like what she wrote the past couple days.”
“He didn’t? I really enjoyed her recent articles. They were good.”
“Her boss hated them. He makes her write mean things, and she doesn’t want to do it anymore.”
“He makes her?”
“Yeah.” Noah sighs loudly. I’m torn between lying to him about our financial situation or being honest to a point. He’s a kid. He doesn’t need to know how I put food on the table.
“Noah, I’m so sorry to hear this.”
“Me, too. I need to go.”
Realizing I’m about to be caught eavesdropping, I frantically look around for a place to hide. Before I can back off, Noah barrels around the corner and almost crashes into me.
“Aunt Aria, you missed my practice.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be at your game tomorrow though.”
He smiles, mollified by my promise, and takes my hand. “Are you okay?”
Staring down into the worried face of this little boy is almost more than I can take. I’m racked with guilt. Maybe I told him too much, was too honest. Our future lies squarely on my shoulders, and how I make it work shouldn’t be a concern of his.
“I’m good. Very good. Everything will be fine. In fact, it’ll be better than it was before.”
His skepticism is clear, but I smile, and he smiles back.
“Aria, a word please.”
I jump, not realizing Gardenia is standing nearby. Rowen and Ryder are with her.
“Why don’t you boys wait for us in the café. Grab a Coke or something. I’ll be in to pay for it in a moment.” Gardenia ushers them to the door of the café several feet away. I resist the urge to bolt, which I would do if Noah weren’t here.
I wait for Gardenia to return, feeling like a sheep being led to slaughter. Why does she want to talk to me? To gloat? No, that’s not her style. She’s a kind person. Possibly to offer sympathy, which is worse than gloating, because I hate being pitied.
Gardenia rounds on me, and I back up a few steps. Her resolute expression is hard to decipher.
“You were fired for doing the right thing?”
“I guess you could put it that way.”
“This is partially my fault for making you change your tone.”
“No. It’s not. I was no longer comfortable with the demands of the job.”
Gardenia studies me closely. “What’re you going to do now?”
“I’m exploring several avenues.”
“In other words, you don’t have a fucking clue.” She says this with a slight, teasing smile.
I burst out laughing. “That’s about right. Reputable sports journalist jobs are hard to come by, especially if I’m staying in Portland.”
“And you are?”
“I don’t want to uproot Noah. He’s been through too much. He’s finally adjusting and doing better.” Much to my dismay, I choke on a sob. Gardenia reaches out and pats my arm. I’m mortified. She shouldn’t be comforting the enemy.
Jakob Bang chooses that moment to walk down the hall. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
He glances in my direction and grimaces.
Gardenia glances in my direction. “If there’s anything I can do—”
“We need to go.” Jakob eyes me with distrust. A week of good articles doesn’t override the last two years. None of the guys like me. I’ve broken their trust one too many times, and I’ve been dishonest and selfish. Right now, I hate myself.
I follow them into the café and manage a smile in Noah’s direction.
“We need to go, Noah.”
“Do we have to?” he whines.
“Yes, we do. But I’ll make your favorite dinner.”
“You will? Hot dogs?”
“Yes, hot dogs.” The kid isn’t exactly into gourmet dining, which is fine with me since I’m not the world’s greatest cook.
I nod to Gardenia and Jakob.
“We’ll talk later,” she says. Jakob manages a smile.
“We will?” I can’t conceal my surprise.
“Yes, now that you’re no longer on the dark side, I might have some ideas for you.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
Jakob’s frown gives way to curiosity. He’s puzzled, but then so am I.
“You don’t have to say anything. We care about Noah, don’t we, Jake?”
Jakob nods slowly.
“We should be going. Thank you.” I put a hand on Noah’s back and urge him toward the door. He reluctantly lets me push him along. He’s quiet as I drive home. I’m glad. I don’t feel much like talking. I make dinner while he plays on his tablet.
We sit down to eat, and Noah breaks his silence. “Are we going to be okay?”
“Of course we are.”
“You won’t go away like Mommy did, will you?”
His mommy didn’t go away, and he knows that, but probably going away and dying are close to the same thing in his little-boy mind.
“Never. Absolutely never.” I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “We’ll get through this together. I’ll bet in a few months we’ll look back and realize losing that job is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do.” I sound more positive than I feel. Right now, our situation is overwhelming, and I can’t think straight. I guess I’m still in shock over how quickly things have changed.
“I didn’t want to tell you this, but—” He hesitates and pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “Coach wanted me to give this to you.”
I read the note with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Do you know what’s in here?”
“Yeah, I mean, he told me. I’m growing really fast, and my skates and stuff don’t fit right anymore. I know we can’t afford—”
“Of course we can afford to upgrade your equipment,” I interrupt, and lie through my teeth. I won’t put this on him. He’s a good kid, and I’ve told him too much as it is.
“Are you sure?” His eyes light up in anticipation. “Coach says they sell the perfect skates at the rink. I can try a few pairs on and—”
“Yes, we’ll go shopping in a week or two. Can you wait that long?”
His expression is cryptic. “I’m not sure.” He pulls off a sock, and I’m appalled at the blister on his heel from skates that’re too small.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You’ll never bother me. We’ll go this weekend.”
His face lights up, and he breaks into one of those grins that I live for. “Thank you.”
I have no idea how I’ll get the money, but I’ll find a way. The skates are most important as they’re doing damage. I should have enough on one of my two credit cards to get those tomorrow.
For the rest of his gear, I recall the Icehawks have a program for youth who can’t afford equipment, but I have no idea if the evil Aria would qualify for the program. I’m willing to put myself out there and ask, even if doing so is humiliating.
There’re no limits to what I’ll do for Noah.