45. Amelia
Amelia
Ididn’t think that my day could get much worse after Lucas dropped me off on Sunday night, but I was wrong.
Walking into the house, I try to ignore my parents' feral shouting as they lay into one another in front of the TV. My mom is screaming at my dad, and it’s so slurred that I can barely understand what she’s saying.
The living room has bags and food containers scattered everywhere. As I step inside, the carpet is sodden, and it looks as if one of them has dropped coffee all over the floor. But then I notice some pills scattered across the kitchen, and my heart leaps into my mouth.
I break into a run, instinctively knowing that something’s wrong. I leap up the stairs two at a time, reaching my sister’s bedroom door and bursting inside.
Annabelle is passed out on the bed. There is sweat on her forehead, and vomit all over her chest.
With shaking fingers, I dial 911, fear eclipsing the rage I feel toward my parents until the EMTs arrive. I kneel beside my sister, holding her hand and stroking her hair. She stirs, breathing loud and uneven, but she’s alive.
The blue and white flashing lights that erupt outside a few minutes later allow my heartbeat to settle somewhat. Two burly women in uniform come upstairs, moving me out of the way as they bend over Annabelle.
After they’ve assessed her and strapped her to a Gurney, I walk numbly down the stairs after them. The narrow space barely gives them enough room to maneuver. As they head outside to the ambulance, I come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.
I have minutes only before I need to accompany Annabelle into the ambulance, but what I have to say can’t wait.
“What the hell is going on?” my dad bellows at me. One thing I can always guarantee is that when the time comes, he’ll pretend he cares about my sister more than anyone else in the world.
“She vomited,” I say. My voice is a dangerous murmur, and for the first time in my life, both my parents fall silent as they turn to me. “Did either of you think to check on her when you got home?”
“You think we have time to do that?” my mom snaps. “We have jobs to get to. Just like you. The difference is that ours means you can go off on a vacation while we head to work and—”
“And what?” I shout and her mouth snaps shut. “What do you do at work, Mom? Because it sure as shit isn’t earning money to pay for anything in this house.”
“Don’t speak to your mother like that—” my dad growls.
“You shut the hell up.”
The rage, the white hot fury, is unstoppable. In the time it took the ambulance to arrive, I have packed a bag for me and Annabelle. We won’t be coming back here. Not while I have breath in my lungs.
“You both shut your goddamn mouths, and you listen to me for once. I pay the rent for this house. I pay all the bills. I clean up after you every day. I cook, I launder your clothes, and I make sure our water, electricity, and heating don’t get turned off.
I started paying all the bills six months ago, working three jobs to do it.
Don’t you dare tell me you work hard, that you sacrifice anything for my sister.
She was lying up there for hours covered in vomit because you don’t give two shits about her, you just want to pretend you care. ”
My mother’s mouth is hanging open, my dad’s eyes wide with shock.
One of the EMTs comes back up the driveway to hurry me along. I have to go, but I have one final gift for my parents before I do.
“I’ve earned enough to save her life, and I won’t be spending another dime on the two of you. Live in your squalor. Enjoy losing both your children, because you were never parents. You haven’t been for years. And we deserve better, and we’re going to get it. Starting today.”
I walk out of the house, my heart thundering in my ears, and walk down the path for the last time.
The sense of relief is overwhelming, even as I hear my dad start hollering at me as I get into the ambulance alongside Annabelle.
I don’t have to listen to him anymore. He no longer exists.
The rhythmic beat of the heart machine is all I’ve heard for the past twelve hours. My eyes are stinging from lack of sleep, and my head is pounding.
Annabelle’s fever has thankfully gone down overnight, but her white blood cell count is not good. They’re keeping her in for another day for observation, but I’ve already started searching for apartments that we could rent in the area for when she’s discharged.
I called Kaitlin to tell her I was out sick, and I am fully expecting Crawford to have told Sterling House that I am no longer required at the office. When that happens, I plan to get a reference from them, but I won’t be moving on to another client.
The thought of walking into an interview with another man about to bend me over a desk fills me with disgust. Even if the money is terrible, I will try to get the best EA or PA job I can find and go from there. I have enough for the next few months, that’ll have to do.
“’ Melia.”
I look up at my sister’s glassy green eyes as they squint at me from the bed. She’s not eaten well since I’ve been in the Maldives, and that has contributed to her current state.
The guilt I managed to shake off while I was amongst blue coral seas and white sandy beaches is riding me high. I lean forward, taking her hand.
“Hey, did you need something?”
“Is there water?” she asks, and I check the jug at the bottom of her bed. “Yeah. It’s empty, but I’ll go get some more.”
I squeeze her fingers, standing up and pulling the curtain back. The shared room is swelteringly hot. I didn’t want to waste money on a private room, but I wish she had some quiet and was less uncomfortable.
I’ve already spoken to her doctor about her new LUNA treatment plan, and they think she can be started on the new drugs within the week.
I grab the water jug and make my way through the beige corridors and up toward the nurse’s station. The woman behind the desk shows me where there’s a water fountain, and I fill up the jug.
The flow is glacially slow, and as I stand there, I’m almost nodding off. The jet lag, travel, and mental energy it has taken just being around Crawford over the last few days have really taken it out of me. It feels as if I haven’t slept for a week.
Eventually, the jug is full to the brim, but as I’m leaning against the wall, I notice the little café at the end of the corridor is still open.
I head there with the jug still in my hand and order a latte with an extra shot. Annabelle hates being in hospitals alone at night, so I want to be with her for as long as I can, despite my exhaustion.
There’s no way I’ll be able to come into work this week, and the thought of calling Sterling House makes my skin itch, but I know I’ll need to hand in my notice as soon as possible.
Thanks to Crawford, I have thousands of dollars in my bank account, and at least that means we can survive for now. I need to stop thinking so far into the future and just live in the moment. That way, I won’t be overwhelmed by the enormity of what is facing me.
Sipping my coffee, I walk back toward the room. There’s the sound of a patient near my sister’s bed throwing up violently into a bowl.
I grimace, pushing back the curtain, and stop dead in my tracks.
Annabelle is sleeping soundly in the bed, her face pale and thin, and beside her is Lucas Crawford.
He’s looking down at my sister, standing motionless, eyes soft and sad. He looks like a rockstar, with his shades on top of his head, a soft sweater, and jeans.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper, unable to find my voice as those brown eyes I love so much meet mine.
“Amelia,” he says, turning to me. “What happened?”
I place the jug of water on the table at the end of Annabelle’s bed and come around the side, gripping his wrist and pulling him away through the curtain.
We come to a stop in the aisle between the beds, and I stare up at him, my cheeks flaming.
“What are you doing here?” I demand again, and he raises his eyebrows, looking offended.
“You weren’t at work.”
I scoff. “Right, well, I’m sure you can find another girl to replace me,” I snap. “How did you get back here. You’re not next of kin. Did you bribe someone?”
Crawford’s eyes darken, and he steps closer to me, his expression venomous.
“I saw you leaving the room when you went to get water. I called after you, but you didn’t hear me.”
“And what are you doing here?”
“You said you were sick, and then I went to your house, and your dad said—”
“You went to my house?” I hiss, horrified. “You had no right to do that. I’m allowed to be sick from work once in a while.”
“But you’re not sick, are you? Annabelle is.”
Suddenly, we’re surrounded by porters and nurses, and I’m moved gently out of the way as the curtains behind us are pulled back.
Annabelle wakes with a start as the nurses begin unplugging the machines and releasing the brakes on her bed, preparing to wheel her out of the room.
“What’s going on?” I ask one of the nurses, and she nods toward the door.
“We’re moving your sister to a private room.”
I stare after them, grabbing my bag and jogging to keep up as the nurses wheel Annabelle’s bed out of the room and down the hall. The lights in the ceiling shine up at me from the floor as I follow them blindly, Annabelle’s bed swinging sideways and through a door.
As I turn the corner, I find myself in a wide, spacious room. There’s a window looking out onto the gardens to the right, complete with a comfortable armchair and TV. The temperature is much more bearable in here.
I stand in the doorway in confusion as Crawford comes up behind me.
“What—” I say, staring at the nurses who all file out in a line beside me.
“I asked them to move her,” Crawford mutters matter-of-factly. “This is much more comfortable.”
My fingers tighten on the latte cup still held in my hand as I spin round to face him . “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t have to.
“I can’t afford a private room along with everything else,” I rage at him.
“Well, I can,” he replies with infuriating calm.
“No one asked you to help. Would you please leave?”
“Amelia?”
I turn back to my sister, who is staring at us with a frown. I’m by her side instantly.
“Are you okay?” I pour her a glass of water, passing it to her as she drinks a little, and then hands it back.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she asks with a little smirk.
I glower at her, but Crawford doesn’t hesitate and sticks out a hand.
“Lucas Crawford. You must be Annabelle.”
She shakes his hand. “Hi.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I’m okay. Mia worries about everything.”
I put my bag on the chair beside her bed, huffing at her irritably. “I just want you to feel better,” I mutter, my voice tight.
“This room is nice,” Annabelle says, looking around and up at the high ceiling.
“You’re moving back to the other room,” I say vehemently.
“Oh, alright,” Annabelle says, glancing at Crawford, who sighs heavily.
“You’re being stubborn for no reason, Amelia. Let me take care of your sister.”
“That is my job, not yours.”
“But this room is way better. There’s natural light, and a TV—”
“I’m not paying for it.”
“No, because I didn’t ask you to. I’m paying for it, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
“I don’t want your money!” I glance at Annabelle, clenching my jaw. “We’ll be right back,” I say, grabbing his arm and dragging him forcibly out of the room.