“You won’t.” She laughs. “At least now I can use the closet as a, you know, closet.”
“You need another roommate if you’re going to make rent.”
“Good point.” She pulls a weed vape from her pocket and takes a hit. “Good luck.”
“Bye. Tell the other girls I said bye, okay?”
“Will do.” She takes another hit then closes the door in my face. I’m pretty sure she won’t mention me leaving to the other girls. But that’s okay. The Lily that lived here was just a ghost anyway.
I trudge down the hall and start the long journey away from this big city. First the subway, then a train ride over to Jersey. When I get back to my hometown, everything looks the same. But I’m different. Sadder, I guess.
I’d left my tormentor’s house that morning. I still couldn’t find out who he was. I tried to find an address as I was being driven away, but there was no street number, and no street for that matter. It was off an unfamiliar backroad outside Bishop’s Landing, but that’s all I had. I don’t think I could even remember the way to get back there. Not that he’d want me. He took what he wanted, and then sent me away.
I’d moped for two days, then packed my things and made my choice. Mom needed me. My lies had gotten me nowhere. In fact, they’d put me in a hole, because I kept finding myself thinking about my mystery man. How he’d taken care of me despite his harsh words. How he’d made me feel when I was beneath him.
“You’re here.” Mom smiles as I enter her room. Her care nurse squeezes my elbow, then walks into the hall.
“Where have you been?” She starts to pull the oxygen tube away from her nose.
“Leave it.” I sit on the bed beside her. “You breathe better with it in.”
“I know.” She rests one of her age-spotted hands over mine. “It’s just bothersome when I’m trying to talk. How’s the city? You’ve been gone too long. You look thin.”
I eye her own narrow frame beneath the covers. “Pot calling the kettle black.”
“My lungs are shot. I have an excuse.” She smiles as she says it and reaches up to pat my cheek. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Any news from Doc Lincoln?”
“Same.” She shrugs. “The surgery costs a ton, and they don’t have any donor lungs for me at the moment, so it’s moot anyway.” She takes a big breath, as big as she can.
I hate to see her struggling like this. Breathing should be easy, but it isn’t for her.
“Come here, my Lily pad.” She pats her shoulder. “You’ve got that look about you.”
“What look?” I lie down, curling up beside her like I did when I was little. Even though she’s been in this care apartment for months, she still smells like Mom.
“The one where you’re thinking too hard about something else. Something complicated.”
I nod. “That’s one way to put it.”
“What’s bothering you?” She takes another struggling breath.
I cover her hand with mine. “I’m just worried is all. You know how I—”
Her phone rings. The loud one provided by the facility.
She reaches for it. “Hello?”
I can hear Doctor Lincoln through the receiver.
“You ready to roll?”
“What?” Mom sounds just as confused as I feel. “Roll?”
“Figure of speech. I just got word from the bursar that you’re paid up, and then I got word that there’s a set of lungs on their way here. Perfect match.”
“What?” I sit straight up. “What did he say?”
Mom blinks, confused. “What did you say?”
He laughs. “I said you need to tell Nurse Evie to get you ready because an ambulance is on its way to transport you to Geneva General.”
“Now?” she asks.
I take her hand and squeeze it between mine. I’m in the same amount of shock as she is. This can’t be happening … Can it?
“Yes. Right now. I’ve got to go and make sure everything’s ready for my OR. But this is it, Maeve. It’s what we’ve been hoping and praying for. I don’t know where you found the money, but Geneva is more than happy to take it. Let’s get this show on the road.” He hangs up.
“Is this real?” Mom puts the receiver down with a shaking hand. “Lily, is it?” She reaches out and pinches me.
“Ow!”
“It’s real.” She nods and lies back as the squeaking sounds in the hall tell me the nurse is hustling toward us.
I can’t contain my emotions, my tears flowing as I hug her close. “Oh my god, this is it.”
“This is it.” She pats my back. “New lungs.”
My tears only increase, and I hope against all the bad luck in the world that this isn’t too good to be true.
12
Clark
2 months later
“He’s been skimming?” I ask Travis, my right-hand man.
“Yeah, taking bets, then marking them down with lesser amounts.”
“Motherfucker.” I run a hand through my hair. “He was one of my best bookies.”
“Want to give him another chance?”
I stare at him.
He cracks a smile. “Just kidding, boss. He’s already dead.”
“Good.” I relax back into my chair. “Anything else?”
“Nothing from me.” He backs to my office doors. “But that sweet thing out front has been waiting a while.”
“What?”
“The girl. She’s waiting.” He cocks a thumb over his shoulder.
“What girl?” I shake my head, then press the button to my secretary. “Is someone here for me?”
She answers quickly. “Yes. No appointment. I was going to notify you when Mr. Brannon left.”
“What does she want?”
“She said she has to speak with you and she hasn’t said another word. Should I have security escort her out?”
“No.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. This feeling, I know it. But it can’t be her. She doesn’t even know my name. I forced myself to let her go.
“Later, boss.” Travis smirks and strides out.
“The fuck?” I stand, then sit again. “Linda, send her in.”
I don’t intend to, but I find myself holding my breath.
When the doors open, I see Linda, and then I see her.
She walks in like she owns the place and comes to stand right in front of my desk. Linda closes the doors.
“Clark Evergreen.” She says my name like she savors the taste of it.
“Princess.” I stare her down. She’s even more beautiful now that she’s stopped with the cocaine chic diet. Fuller, more feminine, more everything. My heart riots inside me as she walks around my desk.
“It took me a while, but I eventually got the hospital bursar to break.” She hikes up her pencil skirt, revealing black garters underneath, then straddles me.
I grip her hips, and right then, I let myself believe this is real. That she’s here. And not for my money or to stab me in the back for a rival. But for me.