Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Monica
Age 25
“It’s one night out, Em. I’m not asking you to take a week and jet off to Cabo,” I say dryly to my best friend as she frets over our plans.
“I just have so much to do to get ready for the school year, and the admin already told us they took away our planning periods this year, so I have no extra time to do anything …” Emily trails off. I sigh and roll my eyes. My bestie isn’t one for flying by the seat of her pants. She appreciates a schedule and knowing what’s coming next.
“Em, I need this. I need it. I’m barely making ends meet here, and I just want to go out one night and forget how fucked my life is. Please,” I plead.
Barely making ends meet isn’t even a good analogy for describing my life and finances. Well, lack of finances. The phrase ‘doesn’t have two coins to rub together’ is hella accurate. I’m not complaining, though. I may consider WalMart clothing to be upscale on my budget, but at least I’m not married to an abusive pedophile in the mob.
My Nana and I have been in Oklahoma for eight years now. The first two years were incredibly rough. I finished high school while working two part-time jobs, and Nana returned to work full-time for the first time in decades. She never complained, though. She acted like Kraft mac and cheese was gourmet, and a special treat was ice cream on Saturday nights.
Emily and I met when I was twenty and able to enroll in the local community college. Em knew she wanted to be a teacher and was almost done with her associate’s before transferring to a state university to finish her degree. While I admired her career goals, I felt completely lost at what I wanted to do. Maybe growing up the way I did meant that I was never pushed in any direction. My parents obviously expected I’d be married off within La Famiglia at some point, and then my only job would be to pop out Italian babies and act like I didn’t know what any of the men did in their day jobs.
But a full-time job? Eh. I only knew I wanted to make enough money to never have to return to Texas and ask for help. Which is why I’m currently managing a children’s clothing store. Slightly above minimum wage, and at least I don’t have to wear the product.
Em and I live in a two-bedroom apartment in a not-so-nice part of our small town. It’s where Emily grew up, and I moved out here once she and I became friends. My grandmother is in a small studio apartment closer to Oklahoma City. It’s not ideal, but it works for us. Nana has taken Em under her grandmother wings, even giving her the nickname of Emily-Bemily. Em rolls her eyes each time she hears it, but I know she secretly loves it. Em had a really rough childhood. Rougher than mine. She needed Nana as much as I did.
“Alright, fine. But I’m setting a three-drink maximum, Miss Sassypants. You can’t control your shenanigans if you get more liquor than that,” Emily says with a smile.
“Okay. I will only purchase three drinks,” I agree.
Em looks over her shoulder at me and cocks her brow.
“Three drinks total, Mon. Don’t be getting men to buy you drinks and calling it a technicality,” she tells me.
“Dammit.”
“What do you want for dinner? Do we have enough to go out, or should I just cook old faithful?” Em asks from the kitchen.
“Old faithful. My three drinks are gonna be larges,” I shout back.
Old faithful is hamburger helper. Ballin’ on a budget. You add enough spices to it, and it’s actually not that bad.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower, and then I’ll help you cook,” I call out to her as I head into my bedroom. As I’m about to step into the bathroom, my phone rings.
“Hey, Nana, can I call you back? I’m about to get in the shower,” I say.
“ Bambino , no, I need to talk to you now,” my grandmother says, her voice obviously trembling.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Well, I fell, and a neighbor called 911. They took me to the hospital, and I had surgery on my hip because I fractured it. They won’t let me leave here to go home; I have to go to a rehabilitation facility,” she blurts out.
“Holy shit, Nana! Why didn’t you call me earlier?” I cry. Em runs in, still holding the pan in which she’s cooking the ground beef.
“Because I knew you’d worry, and I didn’t want to do that. The doctors want you to call around to the different rehab places and see what’s available, okay? I’m so sorry, bambino . I hate having to bother you,” Nana frets.
“You are not a bother. We’ll get right on it. I’ll call you back, okay? I love you, Nana,” I tell her.
“Love you too, Monica Rose,” she replies before ending the call.
“Is she okay?” Em asks quietly.
“She fell and had surgery on her hip. I need to find a rehab place to take her,” I respond. “Fucking hell, Em. She doesn’t have medical insurance. No way Medicaid is gonna cover all of this. The hospital bills will be through the roof, not even including rehab. What am I gonna do?” I can feel tears building in my eyes as emotion clogs my throat.
“We’ll figure it out. Come on. We have some Googling to do, and I need to put this back on the stove,” Em says softly as she shuttles me back into the living room.
A quick Google search while Emily finishes dinner shows me that we only have two rehabilitation facility options. I call both, and only one is accepting new patients. Even with Medicaid, the weekly cost for Nana will be around one thousand dollars.
“Either I gotta find a corner and start selling myself, or I may need to sell a kidney,” I joke with disdain as we sit down to eat.
“I have some savings, Mon,” Em says quietly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s not your grandmother, and I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. Nana’s the only grandmother I’ve ever known, and you and I know she’d sell the shirt off her back to help either of us. You don’t get to tell me how to spend my savings. Helping Nana would be an honor,” Em says. Damn. Thought I couldn’t feel any worse, but my bestie managed to put me in my place.
“I didn’t think of it that way, Em. I really don’t like asking for help,” I admit.
“I know. But this is why I have savings. It’s for when my family needs help. You and Nana are my family. Lord knows my sister doesn’t give me the time of day, so you’re all I’ve got,” she jokes. I snort. Em’s sister Stacey is a weasel. Em is better off without her. “Let’s get Nana settled in at whatever rehab place will take her, and then we will figure out the next steps, okay?”
I nod. I’m lost for words. I don’t know what I did to deserve Emily Benson. She’s the best person I know.
Two weeks later
“ Bambino ! What is that grin for? You look like you’re busting at the seams with glee,” Nana comments as I waltz into her room at the rehab facility. Her physical therapist has her up and standing with a walker.
“Look at you, Nana! Obviously going places,” I tease, and she chuckles.
“Gotta get the hell out of this joint. Old people smell,” she smarts. The therapist has difficulty hiding his smile.
“My Nana is a gem, isn’t she?” I say.
“That she is,” he says as he rises to stand and turns to look directly at me. Oh my. “She’s told me all about you. I’m Shawn.” He gives me a panty-melting grin, and I see my Nana give me a thumbs-up from behind him before tottering and grabbing onto the walker.
“Oh! Nana, I forgot to tell you! I passed my realtor exam. Can you believe it? I’m gonna be a realtor!” I exclaim. She gives me a big grin.
“How did you do that in two weeks?” she asks.
“It was a ninety-hour course, and it was all online. So I basically lived on the computer when I wasn’t working, but it’s fine. I can start working in real estate while also working my retail job. I’ll be raking in the dough here soon,” I tell her.
“That sounds like you’re going to be really busy, bambino . How will you have a social life? You can’t meet a nice young man if you’re constantly working,” she says pointedly as she drags her eyes from me to Shawn and back to me again.
“I better ask you now before you start double-duty, Monica. Can I take you to dinner?” Shawn asks with a hopeful grin.
Wow. Didn’t think I’d come to visit my grandmother and leave with a date.
“Um, yeah. Okay. Sure,” I say shyly.
“Great. Can I have your number?”
I rattle off my number, and he plugs it into his phone before sending me a text.
“Now you have my number, too. I’ll call you tonight, and we can pick a night, okay?” He leans in to kiss my cheek, and I catch a whiff of his excellent cologne. “Looking forward to getting to know you better, Monica.”
After he leaves, my grandmother gives me a wide grin.
“I’ve been talking you up all week! I knew he’d ask you out if he saw you,” she admits.
“Is that why you were so specific about what time I needed to be here today?” I ask, and she nods.
“It’s his last day as my physical therapist. He moves to another rotation for the next two weeks. It was now or never, bambino ,” she tells me.
“You have to be the only grandmother on the planet recovering from hip surgery and trying to hook her granddaughter up with her physical therapist,” I remark dryly.
“Hardly. Shawn told me three other grandmothers have hinted at setting him up with their granddaughters in the last month.”
“Sounds like Shawn gets around.”
“You don’t know that.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. Men can’t be trusted.”
“What made you so jaded about men, bambino ?”
“My family.”
Nana sighs.
“That is unfortunately valid.”
Three dates with Shawn later, I realized my initial opinion of Shawn was indisputably correct. After he finally convinced me to go back to his apartment for a nightcap, he quickly got me out of my clothes. He had his way with me, and it was over in only a couple minutes, in which only one of us had a happy ending. He blissfully admitted that his favorite gig is hooking up with all the granddaughters of his patients. He even kept a tally on the side of his bed frame. “Twenty-two this year,” he boasted.
“Gross,” I blurted out.
“What the fuck, Monica? You don’t have to be crass. Y’all know the score. I never claimed to be looking for a relationship. Listen, babe, I’ll be honest with ya. You have been the best out of the twenty-two. So maybe we can keep this going. Enjoy each other. Fuck buddies.”
“Dude, I didn’t even come once,” I point out.
“Yeah, you did.”
“Um, no. No, I didn’t. I’d know if I came. And if you were a real man who paid attention in the sack, you’d know if I came, too.”
Shawn stares at me with his mouth agape.
“What?” he breathes.
I sigh.
“Look, Shawn, you seem like a nice guy. Well, except for bragging to your most recent conquest about all your past conquests. Jesus, man, it’s only March. You’ve had twenty-two partners this year?”
“No, that’s just the granddaughters,” he blurts out.
“God, did you wear two condoms? I feel like you should definitely be double bagging it,” I mutter. “Regardless, if you had ever made a woman come, you’d know it. You wouldn’t assume or think that a woman came. You’d fucking know it. I’d squeeze you so tightly you’d think it was a vice grip.”
Shawn noticeably pales.
“I think you need to leave,” he whispers.
“You drove me here.”
“I’ll give you money for an Uber, Monica. Just get the fuck out of my house,” he snaps as he reaches for his wallet and throws a handful of cash at me. I manage to catch it all while simultaneously getting dressed. I don’t even count it. No need. I want to get the hell out of here.
“Lose my number, okay, Shawn?” I say as I turn to open the bedroom door.
“Already blocked you, babe,” he retorts.
I pull up the Uber app before approaching his apartment door and see a car nearby. I’ll have to pay via my debit on file, but it feels like there’s enough cash in my pocket now to cover the debit. Fuck. I feel weirdly like an escort or prostitute, him throwing money at me after sex. I may have joked to Emily a few weeks ago that I would have to work a corner, but I didn’t really mean it.
Once in the Uber, I grab the cash and count it. Damn. He must have chucked the entire contents at me. There’s over two hundred dollars here! Looks like I’m treating myself to a bottle of wine.
“Can we make a stop? I am in desperate need of some booze,” I tell the driver.
“Bad night?” she asks.
“Well, it wasn’t ideal. Nothing a bottle of wine won’t correct,” I tell her with a wink.
Thirty minutes later, I’m in my pajamas, watching television with the open bottle of Italian Moscato in my hands. Nothing this bottle of wine won’t correct. I already feel so much better as I grab my phone and delete Shawn’s info.