Page 88 of The Bet
Chapter 26
She called her parents on Thanksgiving, trying to gauge the mood. But things seemed not so bad. Her father even tried to crack a joke.
“And try and get Dad to go for a walk every day,” she reminded her mother again.
“You know what he’s like.”
“You could at least ask him.” Had her mother completely given up on him? It had been a tough decision to come to New York to study, not only because she knew she risked a lifetime of student debt, but she didn’t want to leave her dad. Her mom and Owen weren’t the most empathetic of people.
“I’ll ask him.” Her mother made it sound as if it was a chore, as if she had to ask him if he needed her extra kidney. It wasn’t his fault that this time of the year didn’t work out so well for him. The dark nights, and cold, depressing mornings made his mood slide lower into the abyss.
Izzy wondered how different life might have been for her family if things had worked out for her father, if he hadn’t been screwed over, and if that slimy rich businessman had paid up and honored all of his promises. They wouldn’t have had to move out of the nice house her father had bought with the profits of a thriving construction company business. And he wouldn’t have had to close down his company and declare bankruptcy. He wouldn’t have felt the failure which he so clearly now felt, no matter what anybody said to make him think otherwise.
Things had plummeted for him ever since.
“You shouldn’t worry so much, Isabel. He’s fine, and he’ll be even better when you come home for Christmas.”
“I’ll be home in a few weeks.”
“That’s not long to go.”
“No, it isn’t. I have to go. Love you. ‘Bye.”
She hung up. Money, and distance kept her from going home for Thanksgiving. Cara had promised she would bring food back for her, but for now, a grilled cheese sandwich would do.
She spent the day flitting around, reading, doing pieces of her homework, sleeping, and watching TV. And when she felt like doing some work, she added the finishing touches to the report she was working on for Xavier.
Mid-afternoon she fell asleep watching TV, then woke up at 9pm and watched TV again, not in the mood to do any work.
The next day, bored of being at home by herself, she went out and sat in a coffee shop, fueled by the need to be around people after the solitary confinement of the past few days.
It was unusually quiet outside, as was to be expected with most people having gone home to be with family. She reached for the MacBook Pro.
NotherMacBook.
Xavier’s.
When the time came for her to return it, it was going to be hard giving it up. But one day,one day, when she had her college degree, and a good job with a company that promised excellent perks, and an excellent salary, she would be able to afford a Mac of her own. After she’d helped her parents out financially.
Getting her business degree meant she would be smarter than her dad, and it meant that ruthless, sick, greedy rich businessmen wouldn’t be able to ride roughshod over her, and make promises they could not keep. Knowledge was power, as was awareness, and these two things Izzy hoped to cultivate by the bucket load.
Cara would be home in a day or two, and college classes resumed the day after. Izzy decided to call a couple of friends she knew had stayed behind in New York over the weekend, to see if any of them were up for catching a movie tonight.
She worked on Xavier’s document for a few hours, making it pretty, making the charts slightly bigger, and adding some more in, for other data. He hadn’t specifically asked for it, but she sometimes got carried away, and she wanted to do the best possible job she could. And it was easier to get carried away sitting in a coffee shop with a few other people, some music playing in the background, and the noise of the coffee machine in the foreground. Under these conditions, time slipped away from her.
Proud of what she had accomplished, she copied the report to the memory stick, then checked her cell phone when it pinged with a notification. One of her friends had asked if she wanted to go out that evening.
It would beat sitting at home alone. Clearing everything away, she slid her MacBook into her shoulder bag, and stepped outside into the subdued, gray afternoon. She decided to call her friend, but the call went straight to voicemail. She was about to leave a message when someone pushed past her, yanking her shoulder.
She held onto her bag even tighter, a reflex action, as the noise of the scooter temporarily confused her. It took her a few seconds to that see that the MacBook had gone.
Shock slapped her senses to alert, as the fact registered. Had it been someone on the scooter? By the time she looked up to check, the rider had sped off.
It had been fast, like lightning, the swipe into her bag and bam! Gone. She looked up and around, and everyone was going about their usual business. Nobody had even noticed, and that sense of ordinariness, of normality, seemed to dumb down her reaction.
Xavier.
The thought of him made her heart sink. All that work she’d done for him. And now it was gone.
