Page 48 of Paparazzi

The woman clasps her hands in front of her on the desk. My lawyer keeps fidgeting in his chair restlessly. “Do you have a date of death, so I can better calculate how much you owe us?” she asks me, raising an eyebrow.

I frown and stare at her with less enthusiasm than before. I don’t like it when people make fun of me, and she’s clearly making fun of me. My lawyer, meanwhile, has sunk into the chair and is covering his entire face with his hand.

“No...I hope later, down the road.”

“Can I at least have the patient’s name? Maybe we can find their payment agreement.” She tries to accommodate my total ignorance.

“The room number is 108. She has a daughter named Iris,” I tell her, losing confidence with every passing minute.

“You don’t even know her name?” my exasperated my lawyer exclaims. I don’t dare look him in the eyes.

“Do you know the daughter’s last name?” she asks, and I shake my head like a little boy who doesn’t have the answer to a test question.

“Not even that, Thomas?” This time I look at my lawyer, who I assume is going to be my former lawyer before the end of the day, and the disbelief on his face is nothing short of comical.

The woman begins to look for information on her computer, then she smiles and turns to me again in less than a minute. “Do you want to make arrangements to contribute to the payment?”

“If that’s the only thing I can do, yes.”

“We have to call Iris, but if there’s no problem with her, I’ll prepare the necessary documents.”

Panic creeps in and squeezes my stomach, making my blood freeze. “Is that necessary? Can’t I make an anonymous donation?”

The woman’s forehead creases as my lawyer leans over to look me in the face, wide-eyed. “Does she even know you’re here?” he asks.

“Not exactly?”

“Yes or no?” he insists.

“No,” I reply in a faint voice, but then I regain my courage looking at the woman. “Is it not possible to do something anonymously?”

The woman inhales deeply and seems to be searching for the words to make me feel more idiotic than I already feel. “Mr. Simons, it doesn’t work like in the movies. You can’t come in here and pay for someone without the person responsible for them knowing anything about it. You can make an anonymous donation to the clinic, but you can’t pay for a patient.”

Anger begins to make its way into my chest at these stupid rules. “But I’m trying to payforsomeone. I’m not adding debt to her bill.”

My explanation is met with silence until the woman picks up the phone and dials a number. “I’m calling Iris, so we can solve this problem right away, okay?”

The woman turns her chair around for some privacy, and in the meantime, my lawyer seems to be trying to find the right words to tell me what an imbecile I am. “You know this epic gesture you’re making could cost you a fortune, right?” His expression is almost compassionate, as if he understands something I haven’t realized yet and feels pity for me.

“I’m not poor...so it’s really not an epic gesture. I’m just trying to help her.”

He has no time to reply because the woman in front of me attracts our attention. “You’re lucky. Iris is here, visiting her mom. We can straighten up these details right away.”

Except I don’t feel lucky at all right now, especially not when Iris enters the room in a rampage. “What is your problem?”

She doesn’t even give me time to say hello or react. Even my lawyer shrinks at the fury of this redhead in the room. Her face has become the color of her hair, covering up any freckles that give her the appearance of a young girl. The woman in front of me right now scares me.

“I didn’t bring you here yesterday so you’d pay the bill! I brought you here to let you know why I do that job.”

“I just want to help you. First, you refuse the camera, but you accept the groceries. Now you reject this. How do I know what the hell you want? Why can’t I help you?”

Iris looks at me with an incredulous expression on her face. I forgot there are other people around us. “You really don’t understand, Thomas? Seriously, it doesn’t occur to you why I can accept the groceries but not the rest?”

“No, really. I have no idea why you’re so stubborn all the time. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells when I’m with you.”

Iris seems dumbfounded by my words. She shakes her head, taking a deep breath, then turns her gaze toward the woman behind the desk. “Please don’t let this braggart pay my mother’s bill.

It’s clear that his ego is so huge he can’t see anyone but himself,” she says calmly before leaving.

---