Page 57 of Hell Bent
“Leaving you no time to do everything you need to,” I said. “I know what one day off a week looks like, and I’ve got money to hire cleaners and get my groceries delivered and order dinner every night if I want to.”
“OK. OK.” She was bouncing up and down some, and holding my arm again, too, and I leaned over and kissed her mouth.
She laughed, startled, and said, “What was that for?”
“Because you’re so damn pretty,” I said. “And you’re so much more than that. Now tell me what you’re excited about.”
“You may not want to do it,” she said. “It’s a little much. A little domestic. But here you go. Leaving Ben alone every Saturday night—and when do you get home after away games?”
“Very early Monday morning, usually.”
“Yeah. That’s not going to work, all weekend alone. So here’s what I propose. You get a tutor who’s a guy. A college student, maybe, a really smart, confident one, but one who’s a definite guy. Grad student. Like that. You pay him through the nose to help Ben, working around his class schedule, you check his references like crazy,andyou pay him to stay over on Saturday night, or Saturday and Sunday, depending, until you’re done for the season. Hanging out with him. Taking him to the grocery store, but more than that, throwing a football or a frisbee with him, watching horror movies, whatever it is guys do. Keeping him away from the peaty Scotch. He’d be sleeping on the couch, but if he’s a college student, he probably won’t mind that. Unless I’m taking him up to Canada.” When I didn’t answer, she went on, her tone more urgent. “It’s not for long. It’s a month, a month and a half max until the Super Bowl, right? And then you’re free? Unless she …”
“Yeah,” I said. “Unless Solange dies first.” It was hard to believe, but I’d been more than startled to see her on that video call tonight. The tall, strong, endlessly energetic doctor I remembered, who’d seemed to function on caffeine and confidence, was gone. In her place was somebody so much thinner, so much weaker. She wasn’t bald the way she’d been before, I guessed because chemo was pointless now. She was so thin, though, with dark circles under her eyes and a face drawn with strain. It had hurt just to look at her. Even her voice hadn’t been as strong as a week ago. Could a person die that fast?
“So a month,” Alix said, “more or less, depending how the team does and how soon you work it out so Ben’s able to go to school here. But you need somebody here for him. A mentor. A friend. Somebody who isn’t just babysitting, but is able to help him through this.”
I said, “I have a better idea. This brainstorming thing’s working, eh? My brain’s storming like mad.”
“Tell me.”
“You.”
She blinked. “Me?”
“Why can’t it be you? Not tutoring, obviously, but?—”
“Hey,” she said. “You forget thatI’ma college student, or I was. Almost done, too. Majoring in Statistics, actually.”
“What, I think you couldn’t do it? I know you could do it. No, I mean that you’re working during the week. You could be here over the weekend, though. Come straight here from work on Saturday night, drive into work from here on Monday morning. Use the washer and dryer, go to the store and do your shopping—not mine, because I’ve got it—do cooking or whatever you normally do on your day off, right here in this convenient location. I don’t see how you take Ben up to Canada, but?—”
She said, “I am not sleeping in your bed.”
“Easy. I put a single bed in the office, take out my laptop, move the desk over, and hey presto, it’s your room.”
She said, “I’m supposed to be unencumbered now. Working on my life plan. Figuring out what to do with no distractions.”
“And yet,” I said, “here you are, worrying about Ben.”
“Because I can’t help it. I guess I’d have the rest of the week, though. And it’s not like you’d be here. I’m not moving in with you or anything like that.”
“The horror,” I agreed.
“Ha,” she said. “I ran out on a whole apartment full of wedding gifts. I live in a trailer. I’m not sure I’m a domesticated animal. Wait. Are you paying me for this?”
“You bet I am. I’m not doing it otherwise.”
“Sleeping with the boss,” she said, “would be a very bad idea. Fortunately, I’ll only be here when you’re not. But onsecond thought—no, on paying me. I don’t want to be obligated. Or an employee.”
I said, “I’m not giving up on the, uh, romantic part. Unless you tell me to stop, I’m pursuing. I can’t seem to help it. So you won’t do it? Ben? Because I just realized I don’t have that many principles.”
Her head was against the wall now, because, I realized with a jolt, she was tired. She said, “I’m not telling you to stop. And of course I’ll help with Ben. But I’m not sure I can … I’m not sure about next Saturday.”
“You’ve got a date.” I was startled by how that hit me.
“What? No. I can barely manage to dateyou.How do you imagine I’m keeping somebody else on a string?”
“Oh. Then what?”
