“You should’ve gotten something. Asked for some money or something. No one gives anything away for free. You’d be wise to remember that.”
“So what are you giving up for your trip to Atlantic City?” I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Sounds like you’re perfectly fine and back to normal after your little hobbling act at the hospital.”
Yes, the limited movement walking out of the hospital after going under general anesthesia and having someone drill into my hips to harvest bone marrow had totally been an act.
This call needed to end. But my stomach and I weren’t on the same page about letting her off the hook so quickly. “I guess I’m just too tough for my own good. Did you leave any cash?” If she was going to be gone for an indeterminate amount of time, I’d need to buy more food.
She let out a sigh like my request for money for food was the same as whining for a shiny new BMW for my birthday. “You’re eighteen. You’re strong and independent. I’m sure you can figure it out, sweetheart.”
“When are you coming home?” Not that I minded her being gone. At least I wouldn’t have to hear the hundredth nitpick about me or the millionth rant about Ron and how she’d given up on her dreams and goals to be with him and was left saddled with a kid. But she’d at least order some food or give me cash to buy some, if she were here.
She talked to someone who wasn’t me. “The next hand of blackjack is starting and I’m Frank’s good luck charm. I’ve got to go.” The call ended.
I stared at the blank screen. After all these years, it shouldn’t surprise me. I shouldn’t have any expectations about my own parents. I flung my phone down like it had something to do with the person on the other end of the line always finding new ways to dig that knife in a little deeper. I blinked back tears and massaged my hip.
I’d made so many promises to myself that I wouldn’t get my hopes up about her possibly remembering she had a daughter, but, without fail, I did. No matter how much I pretended I didn’t care and it didn’t matter, it broke something a little more inside me every time she didn’t swoop in at the last minute to reassure me that everything would be okay.
Shuffling my feet and bracing my hand against my hip, I walked down the stairs. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before, but I didn’t want the pain or my mobility to get worse. It wasn’t like there was anyone to help me.
Downstairs, I evaluated my food situation.
Half-empty ketchup and mustard bottles rattled in the fridge. The packages of turkey, ham and cheese I’d stashed inside earlier were gone. So was my deli pickle and the loaf of brioche bread I’d been drooling for. I’d used the last of my money to buy bread and lunch meat for sandwiches. Counting on my mom to cook anything for me would’ve led to starvation.
I slammed the fridge closed, sending the meager contents inside toppling over, muffled by the sealed door. She’d stolen my freaking food. I let out a scream of frustration.
Taking painkillers on an empty stomach wasn’t ideal. Puking wasn’t at the top of my list of activities for today, not that I’d have anything to puke up if I didn’t eat, but the rollercoaster of nausea wasn’t a line I wanted to stand in either.
I checked the normal spots my mom stashed cash and found only empty bottles. Back to the kitchen I went, confronted with what we had left. Cans of light tuna in water and dry cornflakes were my options.
Maybe a cereal and tuna fish sandwich? I grabbed the bread still sitting in the breadbox.
If the green fuzzy spots dotting the loaf were anything to go on, this had been here since the last time my mom had gone grocery shopping two months ago.
I grabbed the cereal box and opened the can of tuna, standing in front of them like a dare gone wrong. The cornflakes could be like mini scoops. Like tortilla chips. Same thing, right?
A knock on the door broke me out of my debate on whether contemplating this as a meal made me insane.
I rushed to the door as quickly as my hip would allow, which probably looked more like a hobble. The pain of attempting to run was still better than dealing with the mush mixture sitting on the counter.
Nudging the curtain in front of the window in the door, I spotted a face I was always happy to see. His neutral look tied my stomach into knots.
My heart clenched and I opened the door, bracing myself for the news. “LJ, what happened?”
“I’ve been calling your phone for the last half hour. Where have you been?”
The phone I’d thrown down in disgust after talking to my mom was somewhere in my bed or on my floor. Apparently I’d been on my foraging adventure for at least that long. Maybe that was why my stomach rumblings were getting louder.
“Right where you found me. How’s your dad?”
His face brightened. “He’s good. They did the transplant today. It only took a few hours.”
“Really? Already? I figured once they harvested it from me, it would take more time.”
“Nope, they move quickly. Mom’s bringing him home tomorrow. The doctors said he’s doing well, which means…” He grinned, rubbing his hands together like his diabolical plan was all coming together. “I got this for you.”
He shoved the bakery bag under my nose while turning his away. “I got you an everything bagel with strawberry cream cheese.”
I snatched the bag out of his hand. “Seriously?” Peering inside, my saliva glands went full waterfall. “How can you not like an everything bagel and strawberry cream cheese?”
“Because my stomach has a sense of self preservation. Poor food choices aside, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I shoved a chunk of the salty, sweet, crunchy food into my mouth. “Surprise?” I mumbled around the dough. A seed or two might have escaped my mouth.
He tugged one of the napkins that were wrapped around the outside of the bag and handed it to me. “We’re going on the senior trip.” Wiping his hand off on my shirt, he gestured to his.
He was wearing our senior trip t-shirt. The same one I had been supposed to go on, but couldn’t pay the full price for and had lost the deposit I’d saved for the whole summer to put down. That was what I got for believing my mom when she said she’d help me out with the rest of the cash.
I shook my head, stuffing my mouth even more. “Our whole class left three days ago.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have one of our own.” He rubbed his hands together with a state-championship-wide grin. The kind he hadn’t worn in a long time, not since Charlie had gotten the results back from the doctor. Lymphoma.
“How are we going to take a senior trip?” I opened the door fully.
“You’ll see. Get your shoes.” He vibrated with an infectious excitement.
I turned, wincing and holding onto my hip. Now I could take my pain meds.
“Shit, what am I thinking? I’ll get your phone and your sneakers.” He barged into my house and looked around before rushing upstairs to my room. He hadn’t been in there as much as I’d been in his, but he knew the way.
I shuffled into the kitchen and dumped my monstrosity into the trashcan before he could see. It would be an unholy smell when I got back, but I’d deal with it later.
The pain meds were on the counter. I downed them dry and shoved the bottle back into my pocket.