“You can take my Jeep,” I offer, knowing she’s been Ubering to Chicago and back. It’s not cheap.
“Don’t you need it?”
“I don’t plan on going anywhere tomorrow, to be honest, and I have my squad car if I absolutely need to leave the house.”
“You’re sure?” she asks again.
“Yeah. This might be a stupid question, but do you drive a lot in the city?”
“Where I lived, yeah, I did. Well, when I had a car. I sold it for drug money.”
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to laugh so I know she’s joking. She doesn’t.
“Drugs for my dad,” she goes on, seeing the blank expression on my face. “And not illegal drugs. Prescription. My dad is…” She lets out a breath and, at the same time, lets go of the air she’s putting on. Her shoulders sag forward, and her smile is nowhere to be seen. “My dad is sick.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
She pulls her arms in around herself. “He’s been sick for a while, and the medical bills won’t pay themselves.”
“It’s bullshit how much healthcare costs.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.” She pushes her hair back and lets out a deep sigh. “We missed the beginning.” Turning her attention back to the TV, she rewinds the minute or so we missed. Halfway through the episode, Scarlet’s rests her head on my shoulder. Only a minute or two later, she’s asleep.
Guess I’m not the only one having a hard time sleeping at night.
Chapter Nineteen
Scarlet
“I don’t get it,” I say, cutting apart a piece of chicken. Well, if you can consider this over-processed mess chicken. “If the issue is he wants to get up and walk, then why can’t someone walk with him?” I stab a small piece of chicken on the fork and feed it to my father. “He wouldn’t fall then because someone would be helping him, right?”
“Girl,” Corbin says, feeding two patients at once. “We are so understaffed I’m thrilled if we get through our shower list. You’re right, and it’s not fucking fair, but it’s all I can do just to get two aides to cover the south wing with me.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, making sure he knows I don’t hold any blame on him. Corbin works his ass off, as do many of the others here. The problem is there aren’t enough of them. This place is a dump, and nobody wants to work here. Unfortunately, most of the residents here have similar financial situations to mine and can’t go anywhere else.
“You need to get out of here,” Corbin says quietly, as if he’s reading my mind. “I’m trying to, and I have an interview at the hospital next week.” He looks around the table and shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave these guys, though.”
“You deserve better,” I tell him.
“So do they.”
I give Dad another bite of chicken. “This fucking sucks.”
“I know it.” Corbin shakes his head. “It’s lose-lose no matter what we do.”
I let out a sigh. “Yeah, it is.” I pick up the water and put the straw to Dad’s lips. He swats my hand away.
“I can feed myself, Wendy.”
It’s not the first time he’s called me by my mother’s name. Once upon a time, before the meth and the heroin, my mother and I shared a resemblance. I remember looking through her high school yearbook once and thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Ignoring my father, I move the water away and wait a few seconds before trying again. This time he takes a drink.
“So,” Corbin starts. “You pulled up here in a Jeep Wrangler, not a Caddy. Did the new job not work out?”
My stomach tightens. I’d moved past conning Wes, and dare I say I almost forgot about it? I didn’t, not by a long shot, but a girl can dream, right?
“I’m still working as a nanny, but in the traditional sense this time.”
Corbin gives me a quizzical look. We never hang out, but he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. He’s one of the least judgmental people I know, and there’s just something humbling about the guy who wipes my dad’s ass and gives him a shower. There are two people in this world who know the nitty-gritty details of my life. One is my sister, and the other is Corbin.
“But you don’t like kids.”
I shrug. “This kid isn’t so bad.” I smile. “He’s great, actually. And his dad—my boss—is a great guy too. His whole family is great, and now I’ve said great like a million times.”
“They must really be great.”
I roll my eyes at Corbin. “They are, though, and it’s been nice hanging out with them,” I say, lowering my voice. I’m not sure what state of mind Dad is in, but there’s always a chance he’ll hear me, and I don’t want to make him feel bad.
Not that his behavior is excused. He and Mom had a tumultuous relationship that imploded when Mom cheated on him. Dad always drank too much but spiraled after that. He left us, and Mom went into a depression. She wasn’t without her vices before, of course, and things got worse from there on out. We never realized how much Dad tried to keep Mom clean until he left.
He wanted to leave her, but he also left us. When he showed back up in our lives, I refused to talk to him for half a year. I caved only because I wanted to go back and graduate high school.
“And his wife?” Corbin asks, raising his eyebrows.
“He doesn’t have one.”
“Ohhhh.”
“It’s not like that.” I shake my head and trade the fork for a spoon and test the soup before giving some to Dad. It’s not terrible, but it is lacking a bit in flavor. I add some salt, stirring it up. “They’re just good people. Maybe they’ll rub off on me. They all get together on Sundays for dinner, and by all, I mean my boss and his four siblings. At their parents’ house. Like a TV family.”
Corbin shakes his head. “Perfect families like that freak me out. Lord knows what’s hiding in their closets.”
I smile and laugh, but I know the Dawsons aren’t like that. They’re perfect in my eyes. But they’re not without their faults.
Maybe we’re not so different after all.
“I thought they misspoke when they called my name.” Heather’s arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and she’s sporting a new bruise on her temple. I’m not even going to ask.
“Funny, Heather.”
“It’s been, what, two weeks since I’ve seen you?” She cocks her eyebrows and stares me down as if she just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
“That’s not my fault.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means the reason I haven’t seen you is because you’re in jail.” My words come out harsher than I meant. Trumpets will sound the day she grows the fuck up and takes responsibility for her actions. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to see Dad?”
“I saw him today.”
“And that was the first time since you came out this way last?”