Chapter 40
40
S he’d felt lethargic, playing with Kitten, sitting on the couch, waiting for Simon to get home.
Carlisle had no plan other than letting him know how the vet visit went and leaving him the paperwork for his adorable baby cat. She’d hoped she would see him and her day would perk up.
She should be happy. The interview had netted them enough orders that Charlie had stayed behind and finished the mailings when she took Kitten to make her afternoon appointment. Her brother had seemed to appreciate the mindless work and even volunteered to drop all the boxes at the post office, even though it meant riding his bike home and getting their dad’s truck and making another round trip. He needed the busywork.
That made one of them.
But then Simon had come home, and he’d seemed just as lethargic as she did. It had been a long day for both of them apparently. She’d made the mistake of thinking they were calm, that no new bills had come in that day, and he might be open to her idea. She’d started to suggest it a few nights ago, but he’d scowled at her and she hadn’t said it .
Tonight, she’d tossed out her proposal, thinking it was casual, but Simon had reacted far too strongly. He was suddenly tense and stared at her as if she had just suggested that he starts stabbing people randomly on the street.
Now as tense as he was, Carlisle sat up, fully alert for the first time since tending to Kitten at the vet. With her back straight, hands out as if to tell him stop, you're reading it wrong, she tried to explain. “I just meant it would be easier with a schedule.”
“There's no way to schedule these things. You know that!”
What had she done? She thought it was a good idea. “You can't schedule the bills themselves, well, you can schedule a payment system. You know that, right?”
He nodded as if she were being stupid. Of course, he knew. He even said that, “I'm on a payment system with eleven different bills right now.”
Ouch . “But if your mother's home with Darcy, wouldn't she have time to do that? Make the schedule, pay the bills each month.”
“She shouldn't have to!” Simon argued back.
Carlisle shook her head, not sure where he was coming from. “ No one should have to. This is a capitalistic hellscape where you have to monitor these bills and worry that they're going to show up on your credit rating. But someone has to do it and you're working full time.”
“My mother works more than full time.”
Carlisle didn't understand. Absolutely. Keeping a household was a full time job in and of itself, but the woman’s children were adults . “All I'm saying is, it might be easier if you provided a set amount to your mother each month and let her pay the bills.”
“I don't want to put that burden on her.” Simon had somehow gotten to his feet and was towering over her. She could tell he was holding back, angry that Carlisle would even suggest such a thing.
“No. That’s not what I mean. I think it would be better for your mother, too.” What had she gotten herself into?
He looked at her like she was crazy. She was still scrambling to explain. “I'm here when you get some of the calls. Please understand, I am not trying to listen in. I'm not! But I've heard some of it.”
He frowned at her as if she had actually been purposefully eavesdropping. “It sounds like it bothers her to have to call you and ask for money each time.”
She didn’t say the words, but the way she heard the tone, the woman sounded ashamed to have to keep asking. Money he happily and readily provided. Well, maybe not as readily as he made it seem. Maybe his mother knew that, too.
The whole system wasn’t a system at all, it was a mess. Carlisle could see that. Why couldn’t he?
He looked at her for a moment, as if puzzled. Had it not occurred to him his mother didn’t like asking? Did he not hear it?
Carlisle couldn’t even hear all the words in the conversation, just the tone. To her it was obvious the woman was apologizing, so sorry that she was having to ask for money again. But she'd had to take these days off work to be with Darcy and get Darcy to appointments or simply stay home and monitor Darcy so Darcy didn't disappear again.
Simon looked at her then as if the words she’d said weren’t even in English. “This is what I want to do for my family. This is my family .” He was shaking his hand down at his side, indicating imaginary people standing next to him. There was something in his expression that was very clear. It said, you are not my family .
It shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did. But it did.
Carlisle leaned back on the couch, trying to fake nonchalance, trying to quell the anger that bubbled up at that. She wasn't trying to be part of his family! Her next words came out more clipped than she intended. “I see things that you don't see because I'm an outsider.”
His gaze narrowed. She wasn't helping, but she wasn't able to stop herself or even dial back. “I don't think you even hear how much your mother does not like calling you and asking you for money. And she does it all the time because she has to. She is trying to take care of Darcy as much as you are.”
His expression went flat. Whether that meant he was thinking her idea through carefully and realizing she made sense or if it was because he just shut down because he was tired of listening, Carlisle didn't know.
She shouldn't have done this today. Neither of them was in a position to deal with it. But the thought had been growing at the back of her mind. There had to be a better way. The way they were doing it seemed to hurt all of them, and they just kept doing it!
“All I'm saying,” she told him, trying one last time to mend the tear she’d ripped between them. Carlisle held her hands out, trying to plead, to make her tone as soft and comforting as possible. But she wasn't sure how well she was doing.
She hadn’t had the kind of day where she should be the one comforting someone else. But here she was. “All I’m saying is, if you set up a regular schedule, your mother wouldn't have to ask you all the time for money. Your mother is an adult. Unless she has trouble with money, it might be easier for her to handle it herself, rather than constantly having to call you and surprise you and tell you that there's another bill coming in. It would be easier on you, too.”
She was opening her mouth to say it's just a suggestion .
Maybe she could backpedal a little more. But then she realized, she didn’t want to. It was a good idea! He didn’t have to do it but he could damn well listen and not get mad at her for trying to freaking help him .
The situation was shitty. There were going to be things that they couldn’t do anything about. She knew that. As a hospital employee, she'd seen families like his before. She hadn't seen deeply enough into them to fully understand and, honestly, she was smart enough to know she probably still didn't.
Simon had lived things she couldn't imagine. His stepfather had put out fucking cigarettes on the kid’s shoulder and threatened to molest him. If not worse . Simon had never told her exactly what Stephen whispered in his ear as he had held a small tuft of Simon’s hair and threatened to send him back to foster care.
No wonder Simon had never spoken up. She wouldn't have either.
But she held all that in. She was in no shape to deliver any of those statements or offer any of the requisite sympathy. She should have kept her big mouth shut and let them just suffer through the way they thought they knew best.
So she did now. Too little too late, probably.
Simon stared at her. His lips pressed together before they loosened a little. Just when she thought he might say something helpful, or even that he would think it over, he put his hands on his hips and stared her down.
“I think you should go.”