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“I feel good. I don’t know how you managed it, but thanks, doll. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.”
Despite the pain in my head, I give him a broad smile. “I’m so glad to hear that. The doctor said it should help a lot with your energy.”
“He ain’t wrong. I feel good enough to get out of this house. Maybe go on a walk.”
My smile slips. “Don’t overdo it too soon. It’s only been a week since you started this medication.”
Dad chuckles and pulls me in for a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and let myself lean into his embrace. We don’t hug often, but when we do, it always makes me feel better.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll go easy. Promise.” He kisses the top of my head and releases me. “I’m feeling good. Let me enjoy this while it lasts. You take care of that headache of yours.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “It’ll be fine, Dad. Promise.”
He eyes me for a moment like he doesn’t quite believe me, but then he says, “Well, then. I guess we’re both just gonna have to trust the other’s promise, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Dad gets started on making himself something to eat while I go through the status of this month’s bills. I used most of the money I made from the street fair to get dad these new meds and made a hefty payment on the electric bill. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave enough to fix the water heater, but one good night of tips at the parlor and I should be able to swing the fees.
We really couldn’t afford this new medication, but Dad’s doctor has been recommending it for a while. It’s new, which means there isn’t a generic on the market yet and our insurance doesn’t cover it. I had to pay for it in full.
But seeing how good Dad looks makes it all worth it. I can live with cold showers if he keeps getting better.
I just hope my payment to the electric company is enough to hold them off for another month. With any luck, I’ll also be able to swing the repairs to my car this month too.
“You got the day off?” Dad asks as he whisks a couple of eggs in a bowl.
“No.” I sigh. “I’ve got a meeting for that school bus derby I told you about. We’re going to work on the design today. Then I work the late shift at the parlor.”
The Saturday night shift is always iffy. I don’t get too many of my regulars coming in or scheduling appointments that late in the day. My chair is typically filled with first timers or drunks who lost a bet at the bar.
Sometimes tips are good, and sometimes they’re just shit. It’s not my favorite shift to work. Thankfully, Rob only asks me to work one Saturday night a month. He usually saves the crap shifts for the newbies.
“You sure you’re up for that?” Dad eyes me over the rim of his mug.
I pat his chest and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Better get going before I’m late.”
Before Dad can question me further, I grab some snacks and my water bottle before I rush back to my room to finish getting ready. Dad knows me too well, and he can spot all the signs of a bad migraine coming on.
Unfortunately, I don’t have time to get sick. I’ve got obligations and work and bills coming out of my ears. I’ll do what I always do and work through it and hope it doesn’t get worse.
As soon as I step outside into the bright sunny day, my head sings a different tune. There isn’t a cloud in sight, and the light from the sun immediately causes my head to pound.
I dig my sunglasses out of my purse and slip them on. They help, but not enough.
Thankfully, my car starts without issue. Good thing, considering I’m already late for today’s meeting. It’s scheduled to be a long one, starting this morning and lasting through early afternoon.
Today is all about teaching Trevor and Clara how to spray paint art. They’re both eager to learn, which normally would make me insanely happy, but today I just want to crawl back into bed and call it quits.
I could call in sick. We’ve got plenty of time for the decoration portion of this project. I’m sure getting the bus running will take most of our summer. But I hate to bail on obligations.
Fifteen minutes later, I park my car next to Chase’s truck in the back parking lot of the school. I check the time and breathe a sigh of relief when I see I’m only five minutes late. That’s way better than I thought it would be.
Trevor and Clara are sitting at a picnic table next to the run-down bus that looks like it should have been dumped for scraps at least twenty years ago. Chase and Karla have their heads under the hood, already hard at work.
Seeing the others waiting for me sends a pang of guilt through me for being late.
I grab my supplies from my trunk and make my way to my waiting team. “Sorry I’m late.”