29. Scarlett
29
SCARLETT
T rick or treat was over and Ethan looked exhausted. He'd been panting a little and lagging behind the group when we went out with his friend Ryan and Ryan's parents. I wasn't sure I even wanted to go along, but lately with him being tired more often, I decided I'd feel safer if I walked along with them instead of just having him go. Now I was really glad I'd made that choice.
Tina was here though. I called her down to sit with Ethan while I went to pick up his prescription. I didn't want to drag him out because of the way he was feeling. I hadn't told Nick. I'd been so overly worried and hypervigilant about every tiny symptom he probably got sick of me obsessing. I was trying to do better with that. After all, Nick had assured me that Ethan was doing really well, so I had to learn to trust him and his professional opinion.
"You sure you're okay? It'll just take twenty minutes." I smiled at Tina who was munching on some of Ethan's candy. Ethan was lying on the couch watching a cartoon on her phone and he hadn't even asked for candy yet. Another concerning thing, but I forced myself not to freak out. Sometimes he was just tired.
"We'll be fine. Go on." Tina waved me off as if I was hovering too much, and again I told myself not to worry. Ethan had a big day, and it was a lot of walking. He was just tired.
I left the apartment and went down to my car. The pharmacy knew I was coming. They'd sent me a text reminder that Ethan's prescription was ready for pickup like normal. I'd usually pick it up on the way home from work, but today I closed the bakery early so I could make sure Ethan was ready for trick or treat on time. I rushed right home and forgot all about his meds, and if I didn't have them tonight, he'd miss a dose.
The line at the drive-up window was five cars long and people were honking their horns. I didn't want to sit in the line, so I parked and walked inside. I immediately felt eyes on me and knew it was a bad choice, but now that I was out of the car and inside the store, I didn't want to turn around. I squared my shoulders, ignoring the dirty look on the teenage cashier's face, and walked to the back of the store where the pharmacist dispensed prescriptions.
There were two older women in line ahead of me chatting about their medications, and when I stepped up behind them, one turned and looked over her shoulder. Her initial smile was choked out by a grunt of disgust followed by a scowl aimed at me. It didn't matter how many times something like this happened, I still felt shocked every time.
"Well, you're that woman everyone's talking about." Her wrinkled face looked even older when she scowled. Someone should've told her that, but I was far too polite. "Is it true what they say? You're a gold digger? Out for that poor man's money?"
The woman standing with her stared at me with a prim expression of disapproval and I fidgeted nervously with my purse strap. "Uh, no, ma'am. I'm not dating Dr. Edwards for his money." My conscience was clean, but guilt still niggled in my chest. I'd taken his money but only because he insisted. My bakery needed the infusion of capital to keep going.
"Strange how you had his child for the past eight years and all of a sudden you come back?" Her eyebrows peaked in the center and her lips puckered up tightly. "If you're not out for his money, why'd you come around saying that kid is his? Is it even his?"
Of all the hurtful things they could've brought up, speaking negatively about Ethan was the one I refused to allow.
"I didn't just come back around…" I didn't know how to defend myself, my actions, or my child without getting emotional. Tears were already welling up and I had to blink them back.
"Mrs. Maier, your prescription is ready." The pharmacist offered me the first look of compassion I'd been given in months. At least one person in this town understood that you can't believe everything you see on TV or read in the tabloids.
The older women approached the counter and paid for their medications, and I breathed a sigh of relief that they were otherwise entertained for the moment. I checked my phone so that my eyes had somewhere to look, but I heard the rude women still making a fuss. As they walked away, one of them said, "Hussy…"
And the other said, "If you're not out for money, why'd you even come back?"
I winced but ignored them and stepped up to the counter. "Uh, Ethan Moore please."
The pharmacist was very professional, moving on like she'd heard nothing. She typed Ethan's name into her computer and asked me for his birthdate to confirm his prescription. Then she turned and sorted through the white plastic baskets on the wall behind her where they organized prescriptions alphabetically by last name.
When she turned around and slid the white sack with his pills in it across the counter, I picked it up and read the labels. But something wasn't right. "Uh, are you sure this is correct? Ethan is supposed to be on propranolol and hydrochlorothiazide. This isn't right." I handed her back the sack and felt concern carving out a spot in my chest.
"Uh, no…" She read the labels and then looked back at her computer screen. "It looks like we have the propranolol and HCZ on file as his previous medication, but Dr. Edwards's office sent the new one over this week. He should take the amlodipine the same way." She handed it back to me with her eyebrows raised and a confident expression on her face.
"But what about the water pill? He has fluid retention. It was helping with that." I took the sack again, but I wasn't sure this was right. Nick wouldn't just switch Ethan's meds without telling me, but then, maybe he said something over the past month, and I'd just missed it because I was so upset and on edge all the time. My life wasn't exactly a cakewalk right now. The way people were boycotting my store and talking badly about me had me really stressed out.
"Uh, it looks like they terminated that prescription. If you're concerned you should call his doctor. I can only give you what is prescribed and since it was sent over this week, it's what we have to go on."
I frowned at her and sighed hard. After the day I'd had and the way Ethan was feeling I just wanted to be home with him, not dealing with this. But I couldn't just let it slide. I took out my phone and called Nick's cell number. It rang four times before clicking over to voicemail, and in the span of that thirty seconds, I felt my stomach tie into a knot. I shouldn't be questioning him. Id' been through this so many times over the past ten months and the last thing he needed was me being dramatic.
I didn't leave a voicemail for him, because I decided I just had to trust that he knew what he was doing. The chances that I had just misunderstood something or even spaced out and not heard him say it were very high.
"Alright, I'll just pay for it." I had to stop being so uptight and worried. I reminded myself for the fiftieth time today that Nick was an excellent doctor. It didn't matter what rumors went around about him. I trusted his professional opinion, and if this was what he wanted Ethan on then who was I to question it?
I paid for the medication and slunk out to my car feeling stupid. The parking lot lights were just flicking to life, and as I walked up to my car the one overhead turned on. There, in thick black letters, were the words "gold-digging whore" painted on the side of my sedan. My body froze in place, feet planted on the pavement as I took in the sight. I was shocked and gutted.
I glanced around frantically but saw no one. The parking lot was empty other than a few cars far in the back, probably belonging to the pharmacist and cashier. Traffic flowed past like normal. But I was angry and hurt. I felt violated and embarrassed, and I jumped in my car with shaking hands and dialed Nick's number again, only to be sent to his voicemail again.
This was getting out of control. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. I didn't know why people couldn't just mind their own business and let things go. I wasn't any of the things they were saying about me, and I didn't know if I could keep going through this. Nick was totally worth it, but maybe I should just stop trying. Maybe things would never get better.