Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Monica
Age 32
“I’m done, bambino . It’s enough. You need to accept this,” my grandmother rasps as her hand shakily cups my cheek. For two years, I’ve watched the strongest woman I’ve ever known whither away. Three rounds of chemotherapy and two rounds of radiation didn’t help. Instead, her cancer continued to spread.
“Nana,” I plead.
“Monica Rose. It’s time. You need to let me go on my own terms. Let me live out whatever time I have left enjoying it. I want to watch the sunset. Go to that Mexican restaurant you’re always talking about and have a margarita. I want to take the line dancing class they have each Tuesday afternoon, which I’m always too tired and nauseated to take. I’ve let it go on this long because I knew you needed me to, bambino , but it’s time. We need to move on,” Nana says quietly.
I silently cry as she holds my cheek.
“I don’t know how to go on without you, Nana,” I sob.
“Yes, you do. You’re so much stronger than you think. You’ll follow Emily-bemily to Colorado. Start a new life there. Live for yourself, bambino . You’ve been living around me for years. You haven’t enjoyed your life. I want you to live .”
“You don’t have to die for me to live!”
“I’m seventy-five years old. I’m lucky I lived this long. If we hadn’t left La Famiglia when we did, I doubt I would have lasted as long as I did. Who’s to say that I don’t have months or a year left? We can’t predict when death is coming, bambino . My timetable has just been ramped up. I’m ready. I’m ready to see my husband,” my grandmother says confidently.
I feel my heart squeeze. My grandfather died decades ago, and I barely remember him. I know he loved my Nana fiercely, though. Unfortunately, I can’t remember how he died.
“How did he die, Nana? I just remember I was only five or six,” I comment.
“He was shot. Looking back, I wonder if your father had something to do with it,” Nana says nonchalantly. My eyes whip to hers.
“What?”
“He became the Don when your grandfather died. He didn’t seem too upset. I don’t have any proof, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”
Jesus.
I really am glad I got out of Dallas and away from my father.
“In any case, now you can save some more money, and you won’t have to work those extra hours,” Nana says as she studies me. I internally cringe. I told her I took on a second job instead of letting her know Isabella had sent me money.
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“Monica Rose.”
“What?”
“Which one was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who gave you the money?”
I sigh. No sense in letting her go to the grave, thinking poorly of the entire family. Might as well let her know at least one other grandchild has a good heart.
“Isabella.”
“ Oh mio fottuto dio !”
“Damn, Nana!” I’ve never heard her say, ‘oh my fucking god’ before.
“How much did she give you? You never got a second job, did you?” she shouts.
“Lower your voice!” I hiss. Her apartment walls are thin. I don’t know who might be listening. “Fine, I will tell you, but you have to promise never to tell anyone.”
“Fine.”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“ Fifty !” she shouts again.
I jump to my feet and shove my hand across her mouth.
“You need to stop shouting!” I seethe. “I called her completely drunk and must have left her a message. She returned my call and left me a message saying she was wiring me money and to not contact her again. She said her kids’ lives were too important.”
Nana’s face softens.
“Bella is a mother? Oh my. Oh, my sweet Bella,” she whispers. “Okay, bambino . We will drop this subject. But you must promise me that you will not contact them again for any reason. Not even to tell them about my death. They’ll suck you back in if given a chance.”
“I know, Nana. I won’t contact them again,” I vow.
Somehow, I feel those are famous last words.
Three months later
Of course, Nana would send me out of town when she was going to die.
I find it hard to believe that she knew her time was coming … but it’s a little too convenient that she tells me she’ll be fine, how I need to go see Emily after everything that happened with her and Nathan, and then dies in her sleep while I’m gone.
The eleven-hour drive from Mountain Springs back to Oklahoma is rough. There are parts of the drive I don’t even remember, and others where I can’t believe I stayed in my lane when the tears were so thick I couldn’t see.
My only blood family member is gone. The only one who has always supported me and loved me unconditionally. The only person who fought for me.
I drove all night after leaving Em at the hospital. I know she’s in good hands. She has a support system in Colorado. She has a new family. I’m going back to nothing. No one. Just a shitty studio apartment and a job I really don’t care about.
Don’t get me wrong. I like selling houses. But I hate my real estate office. My boss is a condescending bitch. Her hypernasal voice grates on my nerves as she delivers her daily jabs about my closings. She has no sense of family, camaraderie, or friendship. All she sees are dollar signs.
As I approach the retirement facility where the manager has asked me to come immediately, my phone rings. I sigh as I see it’s my boss. I can’t even say hello before she’s criticizing me.
“Monica, you have some nerve thinking you can just not report to the office or return my calls!” Stephanie mumbles. She mumbles because she’s had so many lip injections they can’t touch anymore, and her speech is now a complete mess.
“I didn’t have any closings, my assistant handled all incoming calls, and I did not have any meetings scheduled. I’ve had two family emergencies in the past four days that required my attention,” I tell her.
“What kind of family emergencies?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’m your boss, Monica. It’s all my business.”
“If you can show me the part of my employment contract with Keller Wiliams that shows where you’re allowed to ask me these questions, then I’ll tell you all about my family emergencies. Otherwise, you can shut the hell up,” I snarl.
“Excuse me?” Stephanie gasps.
“You heard me, you vapid uncouth miscreant. I’m so fucking sick of your attitude and behavior. How dare you call me and treat me like this! You are complete trash. Do you know that, Stephanie? Trash !” I shout.
“You are so fucking fired. Fired! I’m gonna make sure you never sell another house in this state again!” she retorts, and I hear her slam her office phone down.
I don’t even care.
I don’t want to stay here. I need to get out of Oklahoma. Anywhere but here.
Two months later
“Would you like just the sandwich or the meal?” I ask the teenager standing in front of me.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Stephanie wasn’t joking. She banned me from the Keller Williams office and reported me to the state of Oklahoma for inappropriate conduct. While they investigate, I’m suspended from any real estate work. Currently, I’m working two part-time jobs: I work nights at Braums, a southern plains fast-food hamburger place, and during the day, I work at a small office answering phones. While neither job is rewarding, I’m too busy to think about anything, like the general shit show that is my life.
When Nana died, she took some secrets with her. Like how she had amassed over ten thousand dollars in credit card debt. That debt is now mine, thanks to her putting me as an authorized user on the cards without telling me. I’m assuming that’s how she got the cards in the first place. How a senior citizen with no income can get a credit card is beyond me.
I had hoped to move to Colorado already, but the landlord of my studio apartment threatened to sue me for breach of contract if I tried to get out of the lease early. That, added to the credit card debt and the cost of the cremation and funeral service, has me stuck here.
I haven’t really told Em about the reasons I’m still here. She’s blissfully locked into her new life after marrying Nathan a few weeks ago. I don’t want to be a downer with Christmas only a week away. Liam knows about the real estate investigation, but I haven’t told him about the money. He’s told me he’s got a good amount of cash and knowing him, he’d swoop in here on his white horse and try to solve all the problems for me. Seems like those Colorado guys are all for fixing shit and asking questions later.
As I stare at the teenager, waiting for him to make up his damn mind, I can feel my blood pressure rising. But, seriously, dude, it’s not this hard. Sandwich or meal. Just pick one.
“Um, I guess the meal,” he murmurs as he clearly stares at my chest. I snap my fingers in front of his nose before pointing upward.
“Eyes up here, jailbait,” I warn.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“What side do you want with your meal?” I ask.
“Oh, fuck.”
I sigh and roll my eyes.
“You want the french fries. Just trust me. Let’s make this easy because there’s a line. Kay?” I say sweetly. “Cash or card?”
“Uh…” he trails off.
Lord almighty.
Maybe I will call Liam and ask him for money.