Page 59 of Love Marks
My mother comes behind me and puts her arm around me.
“I’ll still cut coupons for you. We’ll just keep them in a drawer in case you come back,” my mom jokes.
A choked sob escapes me, and I try to turn away from both of them, but they wrap me in their arms once more. We hug for a few minutes before Darius calls down to Sheila that they have to get going.
Sheila steps back again and gives me a warm smile, cupping my arm.
“Don’t cry now, baby. Good things are coming. You just have to have faith.”
She slips something into my hand, squeezes it, and turns to meet Darius as he helps her into the truck. I look down at my hand and it’s a rosary. She hasn’t given me one since I was a child. My mom told me that the first time Sheila met me, when I was a baby, she had rosary beads in her hands. I took them and just sucked on the beads and never let go.
I look up just in time to watch Darius pull away from the curb and Sheila press her hand to the passenger window and wave, a smile on her face.
My mom’s hand comes around my shoulder again and I clutch the rosary beads. Too much has happened today. I feel out of control — like my emotions are all over the place. I feel happy and sad and hopeful and angry and most of all, confused.
“Let’s go in. Looks like rain,” my mom says, squeezing my shoulder.
I don’t know what comes over me then, but I grab her arm and don’t let go.
“You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”
“Of course, sweetheart. I’m going to be fine.”
“You can’t die. You can’t leave me. Do you understand?” I grip her arm even tighter. “You can’t.”
Her eyes soften and she puts her hand over mine.
“Oh, Quinn,” she says. “Let’s go inside.”
She takes my hand, leading me up the stairs to our apartment. As I pass by Sheila’s door, I glance towards it, trying to imagine someone else moving in.
When we get inside, I go straight to my bed. Curling on my side, I lay my head against the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut.
Chapter 26
Quinn
I wake up with a pounding headache. The last thing I want to do is get on the train to Midtown, but I do. On the way, I pop a few Advil and try not to think about the gaping hole that Sheila’s departure has opened up in my chest.
Why should it affect me like this? My mom is fine — well, except that I woke up in the night and heard her throwing up. I knocked on the bathroom door to ask if she was okay and she told me to go away. The hurt from that comment lodged itself right inside the existing Sheila-shaped hole.
I know things are bad because I’m not even worried about seeing Wesley. Not really. I may have ran away from his car faster than necessary, but at least things have simmered out between us. Sometime in between fleeing from his Tesla and getting onto the train this morning, I realized that it’s stupid of us to try and be friends. We’re too different.
I’m not going to take my old job at The Phoenix, but I am going to ask for a raise. I figure Wesley probably still feels bad enough about the whole false accusation thing that he’ll agree to whatever number I ask for. Then we can go back to our normal relationship. Boss and employee. Cordial, but distanced. Friendly, with clear boundaries.
Part of me feels bad demanding such a high number for being a glorified maid, thinking of the other employees who don’t have the weird leverage over the boss that I do. Is it wrong of me to make more than them?
Then I remember the whopping pile of medical bills and the fact that I woke up to another missed call from Miss Perky about my overdue balance and this being her final warning and on and on and on. So, I’m not feeling that guilty. Mostly just desperate.
I get off the train and go up the stairs to the street when my phone rings with an unknown number. I pick it up.
“Miss Taylor?”
“Yes, who’s this?” I press the phone to my ear, shifting my bag over my shoulder.
“It’s Hannah, from the hospital.”
Dammit. As if this day could get any worse. I somehow summoned Perky just by thinking about my bills. She’s like Beetlejuice but more powerful. You don’t even have to say her name.