Chapter 16
Sixteen
NARDI
I’m so dazed by my mother’s unexpected visit that I don’t realize her eyes have strayed to Cullen until it’s too late.
Mom’s expression shifts to a wide-eyed stare. She places a stunned hand to her chest. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had company.” Mom collects herself and smiles coyly. Muttering to me, mom says, “You didn’t tell me you had a white boyfriend.”
I whirl around, my heart sprinting to my throat. Cullen is sitting in my sofa, his shirt gone and his face pale.
“Mom, it’s not what it looks like.”
“Hi.” Mom sails over to him, her hand outstretched. “I’m Nardi’s mom, Shadanne.”
“Ronan Cullen.” Cullen lifts his lips in a semblance of a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His hand trembles when he reaches out to shake hers. “It’s good to meet you.”
“Mom, can you—just a sec.” I grab Cullen’s hand and pull him out of the sofa.
“Take all the time you need!” Mom calls after me, sounding far too excited about catching a half-naked man in her daughter’s apartment.
Cullen stumbles behind me as I drag him to my bedroom. He’s moving slowly and carefully. I realize he might be suffering from vertigo again and slow my steps.
“I’m okay,” he says, sensing what I’m doing.
“Saying that over and over won’t make it any more believable,” I snap.
He releases a strained chuckle.
I whirl around and glare at him. How does he have it in him to laugh right now?
“I’m…” At my dark look, he amends, “I’m not okay. But I will be. I just need a minute.”
We get to my bedroom and I slam the door shut. Cullen shrugs into his shirt, but it remains unbuttoned. He can’t hide his pain any longer. He’s on the edge of my bed, clutching his chest and leaning over.
“Cullen?” I sink to my knees in front of him. A part of me wants to rub his back and give him a hug, but when I’m feeling sick, I don’t really like people touching me. I get the feeling Cullen is the same way.
“My painkillers…” He rubs his chest. “I have… it’s downstairs.”
“Where? In your office? I’ll get it.”
When I slip my hand away, he grabs on. “Don’t go.”
“Cullen, I won’t take long.”
He shakes his head but doing so seems to make his situation worse because he grimaces. After a deep breath, he whispers, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll call Sara to bring it up. Go spend time with your mom. I’ll wait in here until I’m better.”
“I’ll stay until you call Sara then,” I say.
Cullen frowns and I get the feeling he hadn’t actually planned on calling anyone.
Stubbornly, I fold my arms over my chest and stare down at him.
He gives in, dialing his assistant. “Yeah.” Cullen winces in pain and rubs his chest again. “The bottom drawer on the left. Thank you, Sara.”
I listen to the one-sided conversation and take the phone from Cullen when he hangs up.
“When is Sara coming?” I ask.
“Soon.” He breathes out.
“Cullen, you’re sweating so badly.” Nerves tighten in my stomach when I see him squeezing his eyes and looking strained. Using the heel of my palm, I gently dot at his temple.
“It’s just vertigo. It’ll pass.”
“Your vertigo has never been this bad.”
“I’m a little tired.”
“You went to the hospital, right? What did the doctors say?”
“They said I should rest more,” Cullen mumbles, still keeping his eyes closed.
“That’s all?”
He nods.
His pain seems too severe. I don’t know if I believe him.
There’s a knock on the door. “Nardi?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Someone just stopped by and brought a bag of medication?”
I look at Cullen in surprise. “That was fast. Sara must have raced up those stairs.”
“She’s always been efficient,” he answers weakly.
Is that it?
“The door’s open, mom.”
My mom shuffles in and Cullen tries to sit up straight.
“Mrs. Davis. I’m sorry about intruding on your visit.”
“No worries, young man. I’m thrilled to meet Nardi’s boyfriend. She never tells me about her relationships. I have to pry through Josiah and he gives awfully dry details.”
I ignore mom’s remark about Cullen being my boyfriend. There’s no way I can convince her otherwise anyway and I’m too worried about Cullen to nitpick over such details.
“Do you want to lie down?” I ask him.
Cullen shakes his head. “It hurts more to lie all the way down.”
“Let me fluff these pillows.” I reach over his shoulders and adjust the pillows so they become one big nest.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you ,” Cullen says through gritted teeth. “This isn’t what I wanted, Nardi.”
“You did take care of me. In the bathroom, remember?”
He smirks indulgently. “Maybe keep talk like that for when it’s just the two of us.”
Heat flares in my chest and I freeze, a pillow scrunched in my hand. “That’s not what I meant.” Cullen laughs, but the sound is cut short when he flinches in pain. He takes a few, shallow breaths, as if even deep breaths are painful for him.
“Mom, can you hand me the pills?” I extend a hand to her.
She peers at the bottle labels. “Nardi, should he be taking these on an empty stomach?”
“You’re right.” I watch the giant pills with distrust. “It says right here on the label. ‘To be taken with a meal’.”
“It’s okay,” Cullen assures us both. “I’ll be fine.”
I swipe the meds away from him. “How bad is the pain? Can you wait while I warm up some soup?”
“There’s no need for that. I’ll call Sara?—”
“Sara’s not your errand girl,” I scold him.
“Running errands for me is in her job description,” Cullen points out. “That’s the definition of a personal assistant.”
“She’s also human,” I remind him.
“Humans have jobs.”
I scrunch my nose. Even when he’s in pain, he has to argue with me. “Would you want me running up and down four flights of stairs?”
“Of course not,” he says immediately.
“Then—”
“But Sara isn’t you ,” he says, smiling weakly.
My mouth slackens.
We say nothing more but then, words are unnecessary. Not with the way he’s looking at me.
There’s something intimidating about how openly Cullen is offering his heart to me. I felt it when he kissed me, when he touched me. And right now…
His eyes soften as he gazes at my face, tracing every inch of it as if he’s scared closing his eyes means I’ll disappear. The longing in his expression is different from the hunger I saw when I challenged his inexperience. There’s something… sad in his eyes this time. Something that makes my chest ache and my ribs throb.
Deep down, I sense that Cullen didn’t stop by my apartment today just because he missed me. He’s here to say goodbye.
“Ahem.” Mom clears her throat. “It feels like I’m intruding, so I’ll warm the soup.”
Both Cullen and I break eye contact and glance over at her.
“No need. How about you two go out for lunch? My treat.”
“It’s alright, I ate on the flight from Belize,” mom says.
“How was your flight?” Cullen asks mom, looking weak but interested.
I’m glad the two are talking because a strange emotion was taking over me and it’s still got its claws sunk into my chest. To my surprise, I realize that tears had been welling in my eyes.
I blink rapidly to get a hold of myself. Cullen isn’t going to die anytime soon. He walked into the apartment on his own two feet. He’s fine.
“Mom,” I interrupt them, “Cullen needs to rest.”
“Don’t be rude, Nardi. We’re in the middle of a conversation.”
I speak flatly, “Cullen doesn’t like small talk. He’s being polite with you because you’re my mother, but this is very out of character for him. Plus, he isn’t feeling well.”
“Nardi—” Cullen gives me a disapproving look.
I ignore it. “Let’s go outside, mom.”
“But—”
“Can you help me with the soup?”
“Well, it’s just boiling water?—”
“Please, mom?” I ask.
My mother sighs. “She’s always been fussy, Cullen. I don’t know how you put up with her.”
“That’s what I like most about her,” Cullen says, his eyes glistening.
I sigh heavily and open the door. Mom walks out first and I follow her.
“He seems nice,” mom says on the way to the kitchen. She bumps my shoulder with her elbow. “A little pale and sickly-looking, but that’s trending these days. And why do I feel like I’ve seen him before?”
I don’t respond. Heaviness settles on my shoulders.
“Are you alright, dear? What happened to your wrist?”
“It’s nothing.”
“If you say so.” Mom purses her lips. “Are you angry? You’re not offended that I called your boyfriend sickly-looking, are you? I didn’t mean anything by it. He’s tall and I think he’s got a nice, interesting face. Although I’d recommend another barber for his hair. But besides that, he has a very nice bone structure. And I like his eyes as well. They’re not blue exactly. They’re?—”
“Silver,” I mumble, grabbing a pan and a can of chicken soup. “Like moonlight.”
“Yeah. At first glance, you wouldn’t think he’s attractive, but the more you look at his face, the more his features arrest your attention. Ronan, he said his name was?”
I nod distractedly and stir the soup.
“Then why did you call him Cullen?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always called him by his last name.”
Mom sidles closer to me. In a conspiratorial whisper, she says, “He’s not involved in a gang, is he?”
The spoon nearly drops out of my hand and into the soup. “A gang? You think Cullen looks like the type who’d be in a gang?”
“I saw this strange mark on his chest.” Mom gestures to the area where Cullen was scarred from his surgery. “Only a peep. His shirt was covering most of it. But it looked really bad. Like he got stabbed.”
My smile is brittle. “Cullen is a cancer survivor, mom.”
Her face blanches. “Oh, oh my. I didn’t realize. Is he still sick?”
“Yes.”
A thoughtful frown twists her lips. “Are you his caretaker then?”
“Mom.”
“Nardi, I’m sure he has a sad story, but you shouldn’t allow love to turn you into a white man’s personal maid and nurse. Especially if he hasn’t even married you.”
I barely restrain my laughter. If only she knew how badly Cullen wanted to marry me.
“What if this is a scam?”
“Really, mom?” I groan.
“I told you. People in the States aren’t like people in Belize. American culture is far more dangerous and cold. They can spot a weak, naive girl a mile away. What if this guy is trying to take advantage of your big heart?”
“I promise that’s not it, mom.”
“Did you forget?” Mom follows me as I reach for a bowl in the cupboard. “I was a caretaker for ten years and it’s a very hard job.”
“I’m not Cullen’s caretaker. It’s actually the other way around. Cullen sends someone to help me if I so much as lift a broom or try to drive myself around. He won’t even let me wash my own hair.”
Mom’s eyes sail to my hair that’s drying in loose waves. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“So that’s what you were doing before I came in?” One eyebrow arches in wicked intrigue.
I groan. “Mom, no. We weren’t doing that? ”
“I know you, Nardi. You’re a proud, independent woman just like me. But you’re waiting on that man hand and foot. You argue with him but you ultimately listen to whatever he tells you. You might sass him on the outside, but you’re in-tune to every look on his face. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone, not even Malcolm.”
It’s strange. Before I met Cullen, just the sound of Malcolm’s name would upset me. But today, all I can think about are those painkillers Cullen has. They don’t look like your average Tylenol.
“And you know what they say,” Mom continues. “It’s not the buff men in the gym who have it going on. It’s the tall, skinny ones.” She makes a long gesture with her hands and winks.
I cringe. “Mom, don’t make jokes like that in front of him or I’m putting you back on the plane to Belize, myself.”
Mom’s cackling follows me down the hallway.
Just as I’m trying to balance the soup in one hand and reach for the knob with the other, the door swings open. Cullen stands in front of me. His shirt is buttoned now and the beanie is back on his head.
He grips the door for balance and I tilt my neck up to meet his eyes.
“What are you doing up? I brought the soup. It’s not too hot so it should be ready to eat now.”
At that moment, there’s another knock on the door.
“Nardi, do you want me to get that?” My mother calls from the kitchen.
“Yes, mom.” I re-focus on Cullen. “Go back to bed.”
“I called Asad and Dr. Young,” Cullen says, avoiding my gaze. The lingering effects of his discomfort are etched in the lines around his mouth and eyes. Even hanging his head can’t hide the increasing signs of his fatigue.
“Why?” I demand.
“They’re going to watch me while I get down the stairs. I think I can make it on my own, but I know you’ll worry if I’m alone.”
My heart tightens in my chest. “Cullen.”
“You’re not going to keep babying me, are you?” He leans forward, a hint of a smile on his lips. “If you still think I can’t handle myself, we can go back to the bathroom and start running the tub.”
A thrill runs down my spine, but I force myself not to react to that.
Asad’s voice rings through the house. “You must be Nardi’s mom. You two look exactly alike!”
Cullen jerks his chin at the living room. “I should go before Asad starts flirting with your mom.”
My legs refuse to move.
My heart screams that I shouldn’t let him go.
Cullen takes my uninjured hand and pulls me closer. A moment later, I’m wrapped in his arms. As usual, he’s careful about my wrist brace and there’s also a big bowl of soup, so he doesn’t hug me too tightly.
Easing back, Cullen places a kiss on my temple and then waits until I look up at him to say, “The truce is over. Don’t look at me with those eyes anymore.”
My nostrils flare and the strange, heavy emotion is back, an elephant sitting on my chest.
Cullen walks past me and greets Asad and Dr. Young. The two men offer to help him walk, but he stubbornly insists on leaving on his own two feet.
The door clicks shut.
I dig my fingers into the tray and, after a moment of indecision, I storm back to the kitchen.
“Who were those men?” Mom asks.
I barely hear her. I toss the soup in the sink and then I’m running to the door.
What I see yanks the breath from my lungs. Cullen had moved at a brisk pace, standing tall as he’d left my apartment. But now, he has both arms hooked around Asad and Dr. Young’s shoulders. Each step seems labored and he’s moving at a snail’s pace.
He hid that pain from me.
He hid it to protect me.
This time, the tears that well refuse to be denied. I turn away from the sight and let the door close softly behind me.
I don’t want Cullen to know that I saw him in that state. He went through a lot of effort to give me a happier impression.
“Nardi?” Mom comes up to me softly. Her hand slides over my shoulder. “Baby, why are you crying?”
“Because I hate him,” I whisper.
Mom’s eyes widen.
“I hate him. I hate him so much. I hate him, mom.”
“Oh baby.” She curves her hand around my neck and pulls my face against her shoulder. My tears seep into the sleeve of her blouse. “You and that big heart of yours, girl.”
I wrap my arms around my mother, squeezing her tight.
“It’s okay. You’re okay, Nardi.” Mom slides her hand down my back, whispering soothing words.
After a long while, I regain control of myself and wipe under my eyes.
“Feel better?”
“I feel embarrassed.” I sniff.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
I wouldn’t know where to start or how to explain when I don’t quite understand my own heart right now.
Just then, my phone buzzes.
It’s the PTA moms group.
I’m glad for a distraction and I push my emotions all the way down, glad to focus on something other than Cullen.
Cathleen: @Nardi, I’ve been trying to message you separately but you’re not answering.
Martha: Just block her from the group if she can’t be bothered.
Rachel: Don’t be rude, Martha. @Nardi, are you coming to the meeting today?
I groan and tilt my head back. “The meeting. I completely forgot.”
“What meeting?”
“The meeting for the PTA moms at Josiah’s school. The fair’s tomorrow.” I shake my head. “I’ll just tell them I can’t go.”
Mom wraps her fingers around my wrist. “I’m not here to interrupt your day-to-day life. Plus, I’d love an opportunity to see Josiah’s school.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” Mom smiles brightly. “I’m excited.”
Seeing mom’s happiness feels like stepping into the sunshine after a heavy rain.
I throw myself on her and give her another big hug. “I missed you, mom.”
“I missed you too.” She pats my back. “You’ve been taking care of Josiah for so long that it might seem like I only care about him. But you’re my baby too.” She feels my hair and then eases back. “What do you plan to do with your hair, Nardi? It needs some work.”
“I know .”
“Want me to braid it for you?”
I have a second of hesitation. I’m the only woman of color in the PTA moms meeting and no one in that group wears braids. But I let the thought pass.
I’m not going to hide my culture or my hair to fit in. If I want Josiah to stand tall and be excellent even in rooms where he doesn’t look like anyone else, then I have to lead by example.
“Thanks, mama. How fast can you braid?”
Mom snaps pictures of Josiah’s school as if we’re taking a trip to a museum. She oohs and aahs over the neat, mowed lawn, the fancy foyer with the larger-than-life posters of scientists and engineers. She snaps pictures of the neat lockers, the hallway and even some of the kids in uniform.
“Mom,” I hiss, pushing her phone down, “you shouldn’t take pictures of people’s kids without permission.”
“Sorry. I’m just so excited to be here. I can’t believe my little Josiah is attending such a fancy school.”
I smirk, silently agreeing with her. It was an honor for me to see my brother put on that uniform for the first time too.
Mom experienced all those ‘firsts’ from pictures and videos. I’m glad that she’s finally got an opportunity to see where Josiah learns firsthand.
“The PTA meeting is held in here.” I point to the art room. “The leader of the PTA group sponsors the art program.”
“Oooh.” Mom nods, her eyes wide.
“Let’s go in.” I gesture for her to enter first.
“What about Josiah?” Mom asks.
“He’s in an after-school club. So he’ll be finished right around when we’re ready to leave.”
Mom finally relaxes. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
We enter the room. Seven pairs of eyes attack us like killer bees. A tall, svelte woman with straight brown hair, tan skin and not a single line in her forehead, rises to her feet.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that the missing member of our little troupe?” Her tight, controlled laughter peels around the room.
“Cathleen.” I nod.
“Nardi, right?”
She knows my name is Nardi. She’s been calling me out every week in the chat group.
“And who’s this?” Cathleen turns to mom.
“Josiah’s mother. And my mother too, of course.” I tack on.
“Nice to meet you.”
Cathleen looks at mom’s hand and smiles tightly. “I’m not one for handshakes.”
“A hug is better then?” Mom stretches out her arms.
The other woman turns squeamish. “No, no. A handshake is fine.”
The two shake hands and Cathleen rushes back to her seat.
I share a look at mom and we both pull our lips into our mouths to keep from laughing.
Cathleen commences the meeting and mom and I both stay quiet for most of it.
Until they start talking finances.
“Rachel, thank you for generously donating the smoke machine. I know that will add to the atmosphere.” Cathleen nods in approval.
“No problem,” Rachel says, preening as the room erupts into applause for her.
“And Martha, I’m thrilled that your husband is offering a gift card to his clinic for the raffle.” Cathleen presses a manicured finger into her forehead. “I need another tune up.”
The women break out into refined laughter.
“Um,” Cathleen smacks her over-plump lips and I know who she’s targeting next, “Nardi? Yes, you, Nardi.”
My smile trembles but I raise my head bravely. “I don’t have anything too expensive, but my mother and I are from Belize. We can provide some cultural desserts like powder buns or Belizean fudge.”
“Ooh.” Mom smirks at me. “Belizean fudge will sell like crazy. Unu noh taste Belizean fudge yet, have you?”
Cathleen’s left eye starts twitching. “Wh-what did you just say? Were you talking English?”
Mom stiffens.
“She was speaking Belizean Kriol, but it’s really close to English.”
“Ah.” Cathleen slows her speech and raises her voice like we’re toddlers. “Here in America ,” she swipes a circle, “we speak English. ”
“I’m not deaf. I can hear you.” Mom glares at the condescending woman.
Martha folds her arms and looks down her nose at me. “Is Belizean fudge gluten-free?”
“Well…”
“Nothing in Belize is gluten free,” Mom snaps. “It doesn’t need to be. Our food isn’t poisoned like yours.”
“Mom,” I hiss.
“Settle down. Settle down.” Cathleen rises gracefully. “What a generous offer, Nardi, but I don’t think it’s a good idea this go round. We don’t accept food for the fundraiser from just anyone.”
I bristle.
Mom bursts out of her seat. “Who do you think?—”
I grab her hand. “Mom.”
Cathleen spins around. “So that settles that. If anyone ,” she emphasizes, “is unable to send the financial donation we asked for, then please make it up with grunt work. The booths are arriving tonight and I’ll oversee that. But tomorrow, we’ll need someone running back and forth and setting up all the stalls bright and early.”
Snickers rumble around the room as the women side-eye me. We all know I’m the only one who can’t donate money and thus, I’ve cemented myself as the one they can all order around.
Mom spits Belizean curse words under her breath, but I’m thankful she doesn’t spring from her chair again.
I’m glad when the meeting is over. The ladies huddle together, discussing where they’ll go for after meeting cocktails.
I am not invited, but I wouldn’t attend even if they’d begged me.
After I drag mom out of the room, she continues to swing around with angry eyes.
“Look where you’re going, mom, or you’ll trip.”
“Are they always like that?”
“Yup. It’s why I don’t attend the meetings.” I lead her to the computer building. Through the window, I notice that construction on the computer wing has already begun.
I snap a picture. Cullen should be happy to see that.
Why am I thinking about Cullen again?
“What are you looking at?” Mom notices the construction and huffs. “Let me guess. Another obnoxious, rich parent donated that?”
“Uh…”
“It must be a donation. These rich people, they have no class. I bet they threw money at the school so their dumb as a rock pic-ni can graduate.”
“The child that donor is sponsoring is actually really smart,” I say.
“I doubt it,” mom grunts.
I smile secretly to myself.
Just then, the door to a nearby classroom bursts open and Josiah springs out yelling, “Mom?”
Mom immediately drops to her knees. “My baby!”
I watch as they collide. Josiah hugs mom tight and she rocks him back and forth. Their reunion is heartwarming and I’m glad to see mom smiling again after that awful PTA meeting. The first time I attended, my entire evening was ruined and I felt worse than dirt for a week.
“What are you doing here?” Josiah asks, straightening.
“I missed you so much.” She smacks his bottom affectionately. “I had to come and see you.”
Josiah remembers that he’s eleven and has a reputation to protect because he suddenly shifts away from mom. Eyes darting to his club members, Josiah mumbles, “Mom, you’re embarrassing me.”
“Let me. I flew all the way from Belize to see you.”
Josiah allows her to hug him again but not for long.
My stomach grumbles. I realize I’d skipped lunch.
“Who’s hungry?”
“I am.” Josiah raises a hand. For someone who barely exercises and spends all his time in one place, staring at his phone, he eats the equivalent of a horse.
“What do you feel like eating, mom?” I ask as we return to the parking lot.
“Something very American,” mom says.
I mention a famous fast food chain that we don’t have in Belize. Mom lights up and Josiah seems agreeable.
“Are you going to call another driver?” Mom asks.
“Roger waits for us,” Josiah informs her smartly.
“Roger?”
“Uh…” I bite down on my bottom lip. I haven’t told mom that Roger is our twenty-four seven chauffeur.
We get outside and Roger is, indeed, right there in the parking lot.
Mom leans in to whisper in my ear. “I thought those ride sharing apps only dropped you off? How much does it cost for them to stay?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You shouldn’t waste money like that, Nardi.” Mom swats at me. “Now you have to pay this man for the time he wasn’t driving.”
“Nardi doesn’t pay him. Cullen does,” Josiah informs mom, his eyes on his phone.
I freeze.
Mom freezes.
“Haha! Let’s go, let’s go. There’ll be traffic if we wait.” I usher mom to the vehicle.
Mom’s eyes remain on me as we slide in the car.
“Ms. Davis, where are we headed?”
I tell him the name of the restaurant and Roger takes off.
The silence in the car is uncomfortable. All I can hear is the hum of the airconditioning and the faint thrum of the wheels turning on the pavement.
I stare straight ahead. “Mom, if you keep looking at me like that you’ll bore a hole in my skull.”
“Nardi, I thought you ordered the most expensive car on the app to impress me. Are you saying you didn’t order a ride?”
“N-no, mom.”
“And indeed, the man I saw today is paying for this car?”
I swallow hard. “Y-yes, mom.”
Mom’s eyes narrow. “Is he paying your rent too?”
“No,” I murmur.
“We don’t pay rent anymore,” Josiah says. “Cullen owns the building.”
I swerve and hit my brother with a stink eye.
Josiah doesn’t feel the breadth of my wrath because he’s too busy on his phone.
Rather than explode, mom folds into herself. I see her becoming more and more compact with every second. “Did you just say that man owns the building?”
“Yup. He’s even putting in an elevator because of us.”
Mom’s gaze turns assessing. “Josiah, this man isn’t—by chance—the programmer who wrote that book you wanted for Christmas last year?”
“Yeah.” Josiah dips his chin, thumbs flying over the screen.
Mom gasps dramatically.
I cringe.
“How could you not tell me?” She smacks my arm along with every word.
“Ow.”
“You’re sleeping with?—”
“Mom,” I scold, looking pointedly at Josiah.
“You’re dating a billionaire?”
“He’s a millionaire, not a billionaire,” I correct.
“When you’re poor, they’re the same thing,” mom hisses.
I cringe. “Can we not talk about this right now? Please?”
“Fine, but I want to know everything later.”
Thankfully, ‘later’ doesn’t come because after mom eats her fill at the restaurant, we head to the bowling ring.
Mom, Josiah and I have a great time as a family and I laugh until my stomach hurts.
On the way back home, mom nods off and I take the opportunity to text Cullen.
ME: Are you okay now?
CULLEN: Yes, I’m feeling much better.
I debate sending another text, but I refrain. He told me to go back to hating him and worrying about his health won’t help with that.
Roger slows the car to a stop. “We’re here.”
I wake mom and, together, Josiah and I escort her up the stairs. Jet lag and exhaustion hits mom after climbing to the fourth floor and she conks out in bed after brushing her teeth.
Early the next morning, I get a call.
Mom stirs in the bed next to me.
I grab my cell phone and hurry outside before I check the screen.
It’s Cathleen.
“Hi, Cathleen,” I say in a syrup-sweet voice.
“Nardi, I hope you weren’t offended by our discussion yesterday. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you in front of the ladies.”
Mission NOT-Accomplished, Cathleen. “Of course,” I croak out.
“I understand that you may not be able to handle a financial donation, so you’re alright with doing some extra tasks?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat and try to extend an olive branch. “Thank you for checking in with me.”
“Of course.”
My phone beeps with an incoming message from her.
“Cathleen,” I check my notifications quickly, “did you just send me a text?”
“Yes, since you’ve agreed, here’s a list of tasks that need to get done today before the doors open at noon.”
I cringe when I see the long, long list that includes, setting up all the decorations for the booths, bringing in all the chairs to the auditorium, and painting several signs.
How can I accomplish this even if I had twenty-four hours?
“Will that be a problem?” Cathleen’s tone drips with disdain.
“It just seems like a lot of work for one person.”
“You’re a strong, young lady. You can handle it.”
“But what about the rest of the moms?”
“The girls and I will check in with you around eight to make sure everything’s to our specifications.”
In other words, she and her posse aren’t lifting a finger.
I try another angle. “Maybe we can ask some kids from the school?—”
“The kids need their rest, Nardi. They’ve been working hard all week.” She coos, “I just thought, you know, since you haven’t been coming to the meetings, you’d make it up at the last moment. If not, I can tell the general manager you’d prefer to donate to the school in some other way?—”
“No, no. Not at all. This arrangement is fine with me. I’ll get it done.”
“Thank you.”
Mom’s footsteps patter behind me. “Who was that?”
“No one.” I smile and hurry to pull on a T-shirt, jeans, and my sneakers. “I have something to take care of for the fundraiser.”
“At this hour? The sun isn’t even out yet.”
“It’s fine.” I brush my teeth in the bathroom and rush out to grab my keys.
Mom stops me. “At least call the driver. You’re still wearing a wrist brace. It’s better to be careful.”
I don’t want to worry her, so I accept her suggestion and call Roger, apologizing over and over for bothering him so early.
He tells me it’s not a big deal and he comes over in the blink of an eye.
“Is everything alright, Ms. Davis?” Roger asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as he drives.
“The school is having a fundraiser today. I’m the designated decorator, so I’ll have a lot of work to do.”
“Alone?” I see him glancing at my wrist brace.
“Yeah.”
“Hm.”
“Hard work doesn’t scare me. And volunteering is my responsibility,” I reason.
Roger says nothing more.
He drops me off at the school. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, hide a yawn behind my hand and enter the auditorium.
Thankfully, all the booths have already been set in place, but the decorations are still in boxes. Cathleen sent me images of what she wants these booths to look like when I’m done. It’s annoying but, ultimately, I have to do a good job for the kids like Josiah who’ll benefit from the fundraiser.
“Well, Nardi,” I lift my chin and put my braids into a bun, “let’s get to work.”
I separate the boxes and begin untangling a string of fairy lights so I can start with the first booth. It’s hard work with the wrist brace. Rather than unwrap the lights, I end up wrapping myself in them instead.
“Come on, come on. Where’s the end of this knot?” I grumble, fumbling with the Christmas lights equivalent of a boa constrictor around my ribs.
Just then, I hear the auditorium doors bang open.
Steady footsteps thump against the wooden floors.
I whirl around and my eyes widen. Cullen storms into the auditorium, wearing his usual T-shirt, jeans, and beanie.
But he’s not alone.
Dr. Young is here.
So is Sara and Asad.
More and more people pile into the room. I recognize some of the programmers I saw during the presentation and the receptionist too.
I rise to my feet slowly, so shocked I can hardly breathe.
All of Cullen Tech is here.