Chapter 3 #2
Round here, they also had a special area for Reina, Lucas’s golden retriever.
The area was sectioned off from the rest by a tall fence and locked gate.
Once, it had been an alleyway running from back to front, but they had one of those on the other side anyway, and so they’d revamped it. He unlocked the gate to get in.
The area was long, running the length of the building, and they’d turned it into something of a garden for Reina to inhabit while they were working – that way, she wouldn’t be stuck at home on her own all day, and Dwayne or Lucas could walk her on their lunch break.
Sometimes he brought her inside but he couldn’t always do that, since he couldn’t keep an eye on her 24/7.
The ground was coated with a mixture of woodchips and bark, and a doghouse had been built for Reina; Lucas had given it a nameplate bearing a yellow crown.
Reina’s mini garden was bordered with pink, red and yellow snapdragons, sprouting up from flowerpots, and shaded from the sun so she’d be cool when summer fully hit.
As soon as she saw him, Reina raced forward with gusto, fuzzy tail bouncing from side to side. He crouched down to greet her and ruffled her ears. She shoved her black nose into his hands.
‘Hey, girl,’ he said. ‘Hope you’ve not been too lonely out here.’
She licked his hands, then his face, furiously. He clamped his lips shut to avoid swallowing a mouthful of doggy saliva.
‘Good girl,’ he said, reaching into his pocket and throwing her a dog treat. She leaped into the air, catching it between her teeth. ‘Nice catch.’
He grabbed a rope toy from Reina’s kennel and fooled around with her for a bit before fishing into his pocket for his phone. It was bright and sunny, though the mini garden was covered over with a canvas of green leaves, the cloudy blue sky just about peeking through the gaps.
His mum answered on the third ring. ‘Hello?’ she barked.
She always sounded annoyed when she picked up the phone – endlessly expecting something else to be added to her plate, he guessed. Reina’s head tilted when she heard his mum’s voice through the speakers.
‘Would that be your tone if I was the hunk from your latest Netflix show?’ he asked smoothly. Her shows were her escapism; more recently, every time he called, she would tell him about those dishy Vikings she’d been watching. He liked to tease her about it.
‘Oh, shut up,’ she said, but her tone was cheerier now. ‘How’s work?’
‘Not bad—’
‘Your dad wanted me to apologise,’ she said, before he could continue. He could tell that it had been weighing on her mind. ‘Your birthday—’
‘It’s fine,’ he said quickly. ‘I understand.’
‘It’s not fine,’ she insisted. ‘He hasn’t seen you properly in ages, and we should have been there.’
He wished they didn’t have to repeat the same lines again and again every time there was an occasion his father had to miss.
Besides, Lucas was used to this: his teenage years had been threaded with these conversations, especially as his father’s condition worsened over time, like cobwebs clustering over their lives.
Lucas’s graduation from university had been the biggest event he’d missed, his dad nowhere to be seen as he was in the middle of a particularly bad flare-up of pain that day.
He didn’t blame his dad for any of it, and these days, he didn’t feel the ache inside of him anymore when he thought about those missed moments.
The only thing he felt was annoyance when he caught silly comments from people who didn’t understand.
His father had been a hard worker for decades – he’d worked as a landscaper, running his own business – until his body began to behave in a way he did not expect.
He could no longer do such manual work; there wasn’t much he could do in terms of work.
‘Honestly, Mum, don’t worry about it,’ said Lucas. ‘How’s Dad doing?’
She hesitated, and he heard the heavy sigh on the other end of the line, weighted down with a thousand worries.
‘Having trouble walking.’ Her voice quaked on the next words, as if shaken by the impact of what she was saying.
‘We had a letter and they turned him down again. He won’t get any financial help for his .
. . condition.’ She hesitated on the last word, because they still didn’t truly know what was wrong.
‘ What? ’ Lucas ground out. Reina had brought him her rope toy again, so he pulled it, getting into a tug-of-war with her. The dog growled low in her throat and yanked at the rope; he held on. ‘Nothing at all?’ he said. ‘ Why? He’s in constant pain!’
‘We didn’t score highly enough on their points-based system,’ his mum said, sounding downtrodden. ‘It didn’t seem to matter that we had a letter from the doctor about the pain, and how it affects him. And we’re still waiting for the referral to the specialist . . .’
Lucas clenched his fist around Reina’s rope toy so hard the dog gave another ferocious tug.
This had always been the dance they’d played.
His dad’s symptoms had grown worse the older Lucas got, and doctors had always put this down to stress, overexertion or injuries at work – even though they all knew in their gut it wasn’t any of those things.
Something more was going on, and they couldn’t get to the bottom of it; it was like digging for a needle on a sandy beach.
‘There are no other options?’ Lucas asked her. Reina finally succeeded in ripping the toy from his grasp, and retreated into her kennel with it, settling down to chew on it.
‘Well, I could force him to get a job and be in constant pain,’ his mum said, sarcasm laced into every syllable. She laughed wryly. ‘It seems like that’s what they want him to do.’
Lucas shook his head wordlessly.
‘With the rent going up as well . . .’ she said softly,‘I don’t know how we’ll manage.’
She worked at the cat shelter part-time, doubling as an exam invigilator when it was examination season, so she could be flexible with her hours when his dad needed her. The unfairness of it all made his head hurt, made his palms itch with the desire to fix it, to help.
‘The landlord knows about Dad’s situation,’ said Lucas, frowning. ‘Why’s he raising the rent?’
‘He said he has no choice,’ his mum explained. ‘His mortgage on the property has gone up, so he has to put our rent up, too.’
Lucas clenched his teeth. He’d heard of this happening to other people he knew; he’d hoped it would never happen to them, but hoping wasn’t enough.
It was why he wished he could grant them some security, wished he could do something .
Not that wishes and hopes would get him anywhere.
‘But that’s not your responsibility!’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to the landlord myself.’
‘No, Lucas. I don’t want to cause any trouble.’
‘Cause any . . . How would you be causing trouble?’
‘I don’t want to get kicked out!’
‘It might happen anyway if you end up struggling to—’
‘What else am I supposed to do?’ she snapped.
‘I want to keep the peace for now so we don’t end up having to leave soon.
We can’t afford to move into a new rented place right now.
Your grandparents are in assisted living and their home is tiny.
You’re house-sharing with Dwayne. My sister is abroad. There’s nowhere else for us to go.’
‘I’m sure Dwayne wouldn’t mind if—’ Lucas began, but his mother cut him off.
‘No. There’s barely enough room for you two and Reina in that house.’
Lucas rubbed the space between his eyebrows, thinking hard.
He wouldn’t have minded sleeping on the sofa, but she was right – making it four people, one of whom had chronic pain, and a dog, in a small house?
Probably not the wisest solution, and not fair on Dwayne.
Lucas had moved in with him because it made sense financially to split bills and to have somewhere to talk Muddy Paws business.
He watched Reina sniff at the air, tongue lolling happily. It was hard to conjure that same level of joy, though he wished he could. Dogs had such an easy life.
His parents had lived in their rented house since he was a child, and it was their home. Why should they lose it now? He should be able to help them. But what could he give? He didn’t have enough money to pay two sets of rent each month.
‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ he said, because it was all he could say.
‘We’ll figure something out,’ she answered quietly. ‘I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just so . . .’
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘What about your copyediting? Could that not help?’
‘Oh, well . . .’ She gave a breathy laugh, and he could imagine her brushing the hair from her face, like she always did when she was thinking.
‘I can’t finish the course yet. It’s on pause until I can come up with the money to pay for the final module.
And I can’t get work with most of the academic publishers until I finish it – they’ll want to see the qualifications first.’
So much red tape, so many barriers and blockages. And they were quickly running out of solutions. He didn’t know what else to tell her.
They said their goodbyes, and Lucas hung up feeling like a weight was pressing on him. There had to be something they could do next. Something he could do to help them.