Page 82 of Our Sadie
Love, Mom.
My fingers run over the ridges made by the pen marks of her handwriting. Mom’s never had the best penmanship, but now, it’s barely legible.
“Yeah. But her insurance doesn’t cover this new experimental drug her neurologists are so eager for her to try. It’s crazy expensive, but hopefully, with this, I can afford it for long enough to find out if it’ll put her back into remission.”
“She’s been in remission?” Dom asks.
It’s not a weird query. Most people associate the word with cancer, and once upon a time, so did I. The only difference is that I’ve basically had to become an expert on MS. Dad, too.
When some evil disease affects someone you love, you feel compelled to learn everything you can about it to discover how it can be destroyed.
If it can be.
“She has. But then her symptoms returned. That’s been four years ago now, and they’ve only gotten more severe.” I march into my room and set the card on my dresser. I’m more than ready to quit talking about my mother’s less-than-stellar chances. “How’s Paisley?”
Jerome and I have been inquiring about Dom’s younger sister on the regular ever since we all had our little heart-to-heart about our family situations. He hasn’t introduced her to us, but that doesn’t bother me. Dom’s the type of guy to keep things—private things—under his vest. I’m actually astounded that he’s shared as much as he has.
“She realized Ripley erases stuff. It sorta blew her mind.”
As he states this, one side of Dom’s beard hitches up, which on most people would probably be a beaming smile. Also, since Ripley, his sister’s doll/toy, is a legitimate eraser imagining this is pretty hilarious.
“So, does Paisley treat you like a father?” Jerome inquires of him, and any grin Dom wore slides off his face.
“She’s my sister.”
“I know.” Jerome raises his hands as if in surrender. “Don’t mean no disrespect. I was just wondering. Grew up with a lush dad and an absentee mother I’ve never even met, remember? So no judgment here.”
“My father is a worthless piece of shit who skipped town right after Paisley was born. Mom tried for a while, but she’s an addict who couldn’t cope with Paisley’s diagnosis. So, I’m it. All my sister’s got.”
“That’s a lot,” Jerome says, his voice soft. “You’re a good guy, Dom.”
I nod. After being around these dudes and Sadie, I’m beginning to realize that we’ve all taken some knocks. Maybe life is rough on everyone at times, even if we don’t always recognize it in others.
“Three and a half weeks before we go home,” I mutter, my feelings about it mixed. On the one hand, it’ll be so dope to visit Mom and Dad. On the other, though...
Our contracts will expire. Unless Sadie offers us that new long-term one she had us working toward to begin with. But since that was going to whoever she chose out of the three of us, it’s outdated, right? Old news.
So, shouldn’t she have mentioned something about this to us already?
“Yeah,” Jerome agrees. “Went by fast, didn’t it?”
“Super fast.” I sit down next to him and across from Dom, lowering my voice. “Do you think she’ll like, bring up what’s going to happen when we return to Boston soon?”
Dom’s dark gaze glances toward the wide-open doorway before flitting back to first me, then Jerome. “I hope so.”
“Why hasn’t she, do you think?” Jerome stays on topic. “Is it a foregone conclusion to her?”
“Maybe,” I say. “But I’d feel better if she let us know something definite up front.”
Dom’s nodding and so is Jerome. Clearly, we’re all feeling a bit... untethered. Like we’re floating out in space without the guarantee of a lifeline to drag us back to the station.
Yet our oxygen is running low and the air’s getting kind of thin.
Or maybe I’m exaggerating the problem.
“Think it’d be too forward if we’re the ones who initiate the discussion?” Jerome’s pale green eyes peer out into the distance. “If we sat her down and requested the information?”
“Don’t want to seem intimidating, though,” Dom points out. “All three of us coming at her might feel like too much.”