"Can we talk again about the strange doctor's visit we had today?" Grams asked as we both sat down. My bare thighs scorched against the bench, which had been baking in the sun all day. "Baby, I know you’re lying to me."
"I’m not lying," I insisted.
"Dammit! I kn-know you are!"
She stopped talking and paused to collect herself. Anxiety was a common non-motor symptom of Parkinson’s disease, and unfortunately, stress and anxiety made her motor symptoms worse. I knew she was trying to keep calm for my sake, but hearing her struggle to speak just reaffirmed my decision to only give her the bare minimum of information.
I cleared my throat. "Why do you say that?"
"You’re working all hours of the night, taking double shifts and spending your hard earned money on my medicine."
"Grams, you’ve done the same for me. Hell, you worked seasonal jobs every Christmas so that I had presents under the tree," I said as she let out a sharp exhale. I hated lying to her, but I needed her to take this medicine. "This doctor is really good, Grams."
"But at what cost?" Grams slowly reached out and squeezed my hand. "Baby, you’re already working yourself to death. Don’t think I didn’t see those college applications in the trash either."
"I told you. We qualified for—"
"Free help?" Grams finished for me. "Ain't nothing in this life is free. I don’t want you selling your soul for my benefit," Grams replied while shaking her head. "I-I know how these things work. I’m going to take this medicine, and then they’ll pull the rug out from under me…"
She turned pale and rubbed her neck with trembling hands. Grams was a pessimist. Maybe it was Mom’s disappearance that made her this way. We’d gotten our hopes up about finding Mom one too many times. Now, she didn’t trust anything that seemed too good to be true. "Can you at least try taking the medicine?" I asked.
"And become dependent on them? No thank you. I don’t want to become stuck in a situation that has me paying later."
I rolled my eyes. "Grams, what if it helps for just six months?" I replied, hope bleeding through my tone. "What if you end up having the best six months of your life? You feel normal again. This medicine doesn’t have the side effects your other pills do."
"And what if you end up thousands of dollars in debt for a lost cause?" she snapped back. "I’m not going to let you get buried in my responsibilities. This is my life."
It was on the tip of my tongue to let Grams know that I was already in too deep, I was already stuck in a situation I couldn’t get out of even if I wanted to. I stared at the pills, wondering if I could put the medicine in Grams’s morning cup of coffee without her knowing.
"I just think we should take every opportunity you can. It is your life, but you only get one life to live," I insisted.
"That’s enough," Grams replied with a sigh before patting my thigh. "Let's walk again. That fancy doctor wants me to exercise, so let’s fucking ex-exercise," she huffed. I was used to her avoiding shit. I had a grandmother who was extremely stubborn.
We both stood up and slowly made our way down the path. "I think I want to visit my sister in Palm Springs," Grams said unexpectedly.
"Great Aunt Agnes?" I asked. "Is she okay?"
Grams smiled and nodded. "Yes. I just think you’re right."
I cocked a brow. "I’m right?"
"Life is short. I should take every opportunity I can. I’m just not sure how many more chances I’ll have to visit her. I’d like to maybe go stay with her for a month. Soak up the sun by the pool and maybe go to one of the casinos there. Would you be okay if I went?" she asked. "She’s been offering to fly me out for a while, but with you working so hard, I never felt right accepting her offer. But you’re right, life is short. She’s willing to pay for my ticket, and I miss her. It’s been almost a decade since I’ve even been on an airplane."
It hurt my soul on a visceral level to think that Grams truly believed that her opportunities to visit Aunt Agnes were dwindling. Of course I wanted her to visit her. In my selfishness, I was trying to savor each second and minute with her like it was a prized possession. But she deserved a nice trip with her sister.
"Of course, Grams. I think that would be great. I can hold down the fort. You should never feel guilty about my job, Grams. I learned from you that family is about stepping up whenever you can for the people you love."
With a little pep to her step, she smiled and walked a bit faster. "Thank you, baby. I’ll call Agnes tomorrow. She’ll be so excited," she said.
An idea struck me… "But only if you try this experimental drug. Look. We have six months of it. What could it hurt to try? What if it makes your trip to see Aunt Agnes that much better?"
She huffed. "That’s a low blow," she grumbled.
"I learned how to bargain from the best," I teased.
"Is it really that important to you, baby?"
I quickly nodded. "Yes. Please? For me?"
She slowed her steps some. "Okay. I’ll take it. As long as there aren’t any withdrawals for when I stop taking it once we run out. And as long as you aren’t paying more money to that doctor."
"Deal," I snapped, eager to take this opportunity when I could.
"Deal," she replied with a wide, toothy smile.
7
The Civella Mansion was imposing and impressive. I stood at the base of their empire in awe, staring up at the large iron gate circling their property. A large letter C was positioned prominently in the middle. They lived on the outskirts of town, and I had to take three city buses just to get here. The last time I was here, I was chained up in the basement and crushing a man’s skull with my bare foot. I didn’t really get the opportunity to see the home, because we left through a back entrance in a hearse. I didn’t really have a chance to take in my surroundings outside of the death dungeon, because I was too busy disassociating from the entire experience.
My work uniform made me feel less than impressive. I wore a pink tank with the word Dick stretched across my tits. I’d decided to wear this so Grams didn’t ask questions about where I was.
I was racking my brain, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this while still reaping the benefits of Malice’s connection with Dr. Hoffstead. I’d sell my soul to give my Grams a better quality of life. Consequences be damned. Taking Grams to the doctor was a huge motivator—the kind that Malice thrived on.
He had me right where he wanted me.
There was also a nagging thought in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind. It was shameful in every way.
I was curious.
I wanted to learn more about their organization and about Vicky. I wanted to know who these men were that my best friend had been keeping from me. I hated to admit it, but knowing about her secret life and living it were two different things. She felt like a stranger now.
I also wanted to get in touch with her. Whenever I tried calling, the line went dead. I wasn’t necessarily sure I could trust them to be honest about her safety. I wanted to hear her voice and make sure she was actually alive. And, I kind of wanted to yell at her too. She was the reason I was caught up in this mess, and if she’d just explained to me what was going on, maybe we could have escaped all of this.