Page 10 of Curious
I scoff. I lean forward and open the bag, sniffing gratefully. She brought my favorite meatball sub. “No.”
“Do you evenhavea regular doctor?”
“No.”
Reyna takes a step closer, her high heels clicking on my concrete floor. “What about health insurance? Do you have health insurance?”
“No,” I mutter. “I don’t. Stop cross-examining me.”
“Shit.” She starts pacing. “If you need money—”
“Don’t even go there. I’m not borrowing money from you. Or Mom and Dad. I’m in enough debt as it is.”
“Prideful so-and-so.”
“Maybe. Don’t care. And I know what the doctor’s going to say. They’re going to tell me I need surgery or to get X-rays or go to a specialist. And order all kinds of tests I can’t pay for.”
“Don’t wantto pay for.”
“You know I’ve sunk all my money into the house. Cash is low right now”—especially given the extra expenses I had last year—“and if I have to ride this injury out, I’m not sure how I’m going to make more. I can’t exactly get unemployment when I’ve been self-employed.” I’m a licensed Class B general contractor. I sub out work I can’t do or hire laborers. But everything I had lined up in the foreseeable future requires me to be there.
“Shit. Until you get better, do you have any way of making money? You could rent out the pool house.”
“That’s what it’s set up for, yeah. But not right now. Shelby’s in there, and I’m not going to charge him. I told him he could stay as long as he needs to, to get himself back on his feet, and I meant it. I’ll deal.” The Airbnb listing I planned can wait.
Reyna sighs. “It’s not easy, is it?”
“What?”
“Adulting.”
I shake my head, feeling defeated. It’s not like Iwantto avoid medical treatment, but I’m not sure what the right thing to do is.
“Let me at least take you to urgent care,” she begs, and I relent. How expensive can one appointment be?
Four hours later, it’s as bad as I thought—in every respect. Eight hundred and seventy-three dollars buys me the information that I somehow managed to fracture my ankle in two places. The doctor outlines treatment, and … I stop listening before she gets to the total. It’s more money than I have, that’s for sure.
I feel sick to my stomach. When I limp out with Reyna, she gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Talk with Shelby,” she suggests. “You don’t have to kick him out, but maybe he does have somewhere else he could stay, so you could get that place rented out after all. And who knows—he always has good ideas for the office. He’s the one who implemented the canned food drive and the tree planting to celebrate the firm’s anniversary. Maybe he’ll come up with some creative solution to help your sorry ass.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m glad I’m up there with trees and cans.”
She leans over and gives my shoulder a gentle shove. “You know what I mean.” Then her expression turns serious. “I just want you to get better, okay? A girl’s big brother shouldn’t be down for the count. He’s supposed to be there for her.”
“Oh, so we’re moving on to guilt trips now?”
“Whatever I can do to motivate you to get yourself in gear, I’m going to do.”
* * *
In the evening, I see the lights turn on in the pool house when Shelby returns. I’m not feeling like I can get up and turn on my own lights, so I sit here in the dark like a weirdo.
A few minutes later, though, there’s a rap on my sliding glass door, and then it opens. “Okay for me to come in?” Shelby calls.
“Sure.” My voice sounds creaky.
“Why are you sitting in the dark—” He cuts himself off. “Because you don’t want to get up. I gotcha.” He turns on the light, and he can’t hide his sharp inhale.
