Chapter 2 #3
I just nod, and lean forward to kiss her forehead, and pretend the ache in my chest is just exhaustion. She reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck and hold me close, but her tender embrace causes her to screech in agony.
“Oh, Mum.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she whimpers, still shaking from pain. She hunches over, bent in an unnatural angle that’s buying her some sort of temporary relief.
“I’ll get the Styrica,” I murmur.
“And the nausea medication, please? It helps but it makes me so sick.”
“It’s too much medication on an empty stomach. What would you like to eat? I’ll whip up something.”
“You just worked a double, love. Go lie down.”
I ignore her protest. “Cheesy eggs? Hashbrowns? And some fruit with Cool Whip?”
“Okay,” she acquiesces, a smile creeping onto her face. “That sounds really good. Maybe some sausage too? Callie kicked my ass with the stretches today.”
“Coming right up.”
As I head into the tiny kitchen, an intrusive image of hospital bills piling up and crushing our apartment until it falls on our head becomes a disturbing hallucination.
I grab the eggs from the fridge, cracking two against each other before dropping them into a plastic bowl.
My phone rings before I can collect a fork and begin to scramble the yolks into submission.
I almost don’t pick up until I see the Caller ID.
“Gimme a second,” I answer without a hello, tracking through the living room. Wordlessly I point to my phone, then to the front door when Mum’s eyes land on me. She nods at my charades, knowing it’s impossible to have privacy in our cramped apartment.
The moment the door closes behind me, I press the cell to my cheek again. “A little early isn’t it? I didn’t know the Manhattan elite get horny at about nine in the morning.”
“Hilarious. I need a favor,” Rina, my boss, says in a huff.
“Where are you? It’s loud.”
“At the airport, trying to get home as quick as I can but I’m still in Paris.”
“Kansas?” I ask cheekily.
“What? No—Paris in France. Are you high, Saylor?”
“No, I just… Anyway—what favor?”
“My friend, Celeste. The designer—”
“I remember. Forrest’s custody hearing for Koda,” I say too quickly. The details of that day blur together—the courthouse address, what month it even was—but Celeste herself remains in perfect focus, like a photograph burned into my retinas. Some people just leave that kind of impression.
“Right. She and Forrest are friends. Platonic friends. She’d typically just use him as armor against her sleazy ex.”
“Speaking of sleazy exes—how’s Sean doing?”
“Slimy as ever. Can we focus? Celeste just found out yesterday that her best friend passed away. She’s headed Upstate for the funeral today and I don’t think she can do this alone.
Her crowd anxiety is also why she used to hire Forrest. But he’s with Sora now and Celeste feels it’s inappropriate to ask. Taio is taking some time off—”
“You mean bumping uglies with that pop star—”
“And so that leaves you.”
“Your third-choice knight in shining armor.”
“Oh, Saylor. You know you’re my favorite.”
I scoff, leaning back against the wall. “You’re a skilled liar.”
“It’s called being an attorney. And all right, I’ll give. This is really important to me. Obviously I’ll cover any fees, but how can I convince you to accompany Celeste today?”
I sigh. “While a funeral does sound riveting, I can’t. Mum’s having a flareup and I can’t keep making her nurse work for free. She needs me here.”
“I’ll pay you triple the normal rate. And you won’t have to do anything besides provide emotional support. Believe me, Celeste wouldn’t make a move on you if her life depended on it.”
“Ouch.”
“It’s a funeral, Saylor.”
“Triple?” I ask, glancing back over my shoulder. Triple is enough to pay Callie properly for a couple visits this weekend.
“Yes. Are you in?”
“Almost. I have a question for you. You and Sean bump elbows with a lot of the Manhattan upper echelon… Mount Sinai just hired a big-deal neurosurgeon—Dr. Yassa. Ever heard of him?”
“It’s not ringing a bell.”
“He’s working on an experimental treatment but I’m not sure if Mum’s a candidate, or if we can afford it…”
“All right, Saylor. I see where this is going. You go with Celeste. I’ll make some calls or ask Sean too. He knows everybody in this city with a seven-figure salary.”
“Fine. Good. Also, I’ll need a suit.”
“Celeste owns one of the most prominent fashion brands in the world. I’m sure they can rummage up something. I’ll have her send a car for you. Can you be ready in two hours?”
I agree to the logistics and Rina swiftly ends the call, moving on to put plans in motion.
Celeste, huh? Not exactly the circumstances in which I was hoping to see her again, but I do remember wanting to see her again.
I walk in through the front door to see Mum’s smiling face.
“Who was that?”
“My boss.” I tuck my phone back into my pocket as if it’s culpable. “I have to work this weekend.”
“Aw, love. You’re running yourself into the ground.”
“It’s okay. There’s a bonus that’ll make it all well worth it. Are you going to be okay for a couple days if Callie stops by a few times?”
“Of course, silly. No need to fuss over me.” That would be far more convincing if her eyes weren’t watering and she wasn’t bent over like she’s trying to attempt human origami.
I head back to the kitchen, returning to the bowl of unscrambled eggs.
For one moment, I let myself really go there.
What would it be like if Mum could walk pain-free again? If she could run a farm like she used to. If her smiles weren’t forced, masking the excruciating torment. What if I were just a normal guy getting ready to go on a date with a woman he liked and knew it had potential to go somewhere?
What if…
I was anyone else. Anywhere else. In any other circumstance besides the one I created.
What if just for a moment…I really let myself have hope?