Chapter 35 No. Just No
No. Just No
“Home.” Heidi got out of the car and went to drag her day pack out of the trunk. “Did you miss it?”
Morgan shrugged. “I love my home, but it’s always good to get away.”
“Now that I’m a rich woman, maybe we can get away again. Not just our snowboarding weekend—we could explore other towns. Go snowshoeing.”
Morgan opened the door and scooped the mail from the box. She took it through to the kitchen and rifled through it. Junk mail mainly, but a handwritten white envelope caught her eye. She flipped it over, and her breath caught. The return address was Linda’s.
She set it to one side. Why would Linda send a letter and not an email? Why wouldn’t she simply call? And the handwritten envelope spoke of important contents.
“I need to check on my shifts for the rest of the week,” Heidi said. “But I’ll cook dinner later, if you want.”
Morgan nodded, barely aware of Heidi’s words. When Heidi had gone to her room, Morgan took Linda’s letter and went upstairs, closing the door.
She sat on the bed and, taking a deep breath, ripped the envelope open. A sheet of lined paper, torn from a notepad, fell out and she picked it up.
Hi Morgan,
I know you are aware of my diagnosis. I’m sorry for not calling you, but there are some things I find easier to say in a note.
Thank you for your incredible offer to pay for my surgery and medical care.
But I can’t ask that of you. I’m having radiotherapy treatment—this I can afford without calling on you or leaving my kids a huge debt.
While it may be successful on its own, there are no guarantees.
I do have something I want to ask you, though.
Something of greater importance than my treatment.
It’s about Nathan and Ellie. While they’re adults and don’t need a guardian, they’ll find it very difficult to cope when I’m gone.
Despite being the younger, Ellie is strong, as all women are, and she will be okay.
But Nathan, my beautiful, difficult son, I think will struggle hardest.
I ask that you look out for them both. If you are able, maybe you could offer them some of the financial aid you offered me. I have no house or major savings to leave them, and they’ll be totally alone apart from you and your parents.
I hope I will see you soon, Morgan. When my first round of radiation is done, I hope I will be strong enough to visit you. I would like that very much.
I love you and miss you,
Aunt Linda
“No!” Morgan threw the sheet down on the bed. Angry tears pricked behind her eyes. “She can’t do this.”
Didn’t Linda realize that her family would much rather have her alive?
And if that meant running up a debt—or even better, taking Morgan’s offer to fund the out-of-pocket expenses— why wouldn’t she accept it?
Didn’t every parent want to see their kids graduate from college, maybe find a partner, build a life?
Holidays, celebrations, maybe even grandkids.
How could Linda not want that? Sure, Morgan would look out for Nathan and Ellie if it came to it—both of them equally—but right now, her priority was Linda.
It was Linda she loved the most, more than her somewhat distant cousins.
She picked up the note and crumpled it into a ball then fell back onto the bed, her hand over her eyes.
Oh Linda.
She’d have to try calling her again, and hope that this time she’d pick up. Because Linda was right in one way. Family was there for family, and better now than later.
~ ~ ~
Morgan had barely seen Heidi for three days. She’d been working long shifts at the Fly Inn and seemed to be out much of the time past that. They’d left notes for each other on the counter, and while Morgan had heard Heidi come home late and creep up the stairs, it was always when she was in bed.
Once, Heidi had paused outside Morgan’s door. Morgan had waited, wondering if she’d knock or say Morgan’s name, but after a minute, Heidi had moved off to her own room, leaving Morgan wishing she’d been the one to call out.
What exactly was she scared of? Surely, she could have called out to Heidi, who, after all, was probably just being respectful of Morgan’s space. And she’d wanted to. Wanted to respond to her, invite her into her bedroom, take off her clothes, pull her down on the bed, and kiss her.
She knew what was holding her back: It wasn’t only that she didn’t want it to go wrong and then she’d lose Heidi as a roommate.
She’d evaded Heidi’s questions about why she’d lost her job.
Friends and lovers shared things. Yet, every time she came close to telling Heidi why she’d been fired, the shame lodged in her throat like a boulder, blocking the words.
Only failures got fired. And she wasn’t a failure…
was she? And, of course, she was worried about Linda.
She didn’t know what to do. She wanted more with Heidi. She was afraid. And her buttoned-up repressed side just couldn’t find the words to say all of that. But she wanted to.
On the fourth evening since they’d been back, Morgan checked Heidi’s schedule on the fridge and left her a note. If you’re home for dinner tomorrow, I’ll make fajitas.
She heard Heidi leave early in the morning, and when she came downstairs for coffee, there was a smiley face on the note. Heidi had scribbled, That would be lovely. I’ll get beer.
It was after six when Heidi arrived home. She shed her shoes at the front door and padded across to where Morgan was in the kitchen. She waited until Morgan straightened, yellow and red bell peppers in her hands, before she came closer.
“Thank you for cooking tonight. I’ve missed you. My fault, I know. Robert is rostering me all hours to make up for daring to have three days off last week. Guess I can’t complain; the money’s good.”
Morgan set the peppers on the counter. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch Heidi, to pull her closer, to kiss her hello. A small step, maybe, but one that felt enormous given their living situation.
“I thought we could talk,” Morgan said.
Heidi stripped off her sweater and threw it over the back of a kitchen chair. “I’m trying to be tidier.” She stared at the sweater for a moment, picked it up, smoothed it, folded it, then placed it by the door. “Like that. I’ll take it up to my room when I go.”
“That’s not it.” Morgan’s tongue cleaved to her palate, and she poured a glass of water from the faucet and took a huge gulp.
Heidi went back to the front door and retrieved a six pack of Modelo. “Mexican beer to go with Mexican food.” She pulled one from the pack and handed it to Morgan, then took another for herself.
Morgan opened the beer and took a mouthful. She found a board and knife and started to slice the peppers. When she was done, she started chopping the chicken and onions.
Heidi watched in silence. “Have I time for a shower before dinner? Someone spilled beer on me. I’d love to change.”
“Sure,” Morgan said without looking around. It would give her time to think of what, exactly, she wanted to say.