Page 80 of Falling Slowly
“Yes, for the full-timers. But most of us in production are part-timers.”
Was he not aware of this?
“Wait, what? You’re there all the time! You work full-time.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I get offered extra hours on a regular basis.”
“So, you essentially work full-time but don’t get the benefits?” The confusion on his face was starting to morph into anger.
“I appreciate the extra hours,” I added. “I need them.”
“But… even part-timers are offered insurance, right?”
He really didn’t know. Charlie, who wanted everyone to be happy and everything to be good and fine, had no clue what was going on right under his nose. I almost didn’t want to burst his bubble.
“The premiums are more than I can afford right now, so I opted out,” I explained carefully. “I can only afford to cover Celia.”
“How much?” he asked breathlessly.
“Five hundred per month,” I answered. “I know it’s not that bad. I’m just in a tight spot right now so I can’t do it.”
His eyes were dark. “Because of the debt?”
I nodded; my voice lost somewhere deep inside.
“Bess. I need you to be honest. Are the debt collectors threatening you?”
“No! Of course not.” I frequently received threatening letters informing me of the down payment schedule, but so far nobody had turned up at my door with a baseball bat or mentioned my kneecaps. Jack had been smart enough to not borrow from the worst of the sharks, even if the interest and late fees wereridiculously high. But as long as I kept on top of my payments, I’d make it through. If I worked extra hours on the weekend, I could even put a little aside and start paying for health insurance.
Charlie stared at me, his mouth a straight line. He may have doubted me, but didn’t push any further. Instead, he returned the clipboard to the counter and pulled out his credit card.
I buried my face in my hands, praying for my ankle. Please, no fractures. Nothing requiring a cast. I needed this to be a bone bruise, nothing more.
God heard me, but must have stopped listening half-way through.
An hour later, we sat on a park bench by the town square, my foot in a moon boot. There was no fracture, but possibly a torn ligament. Terms ‘physical therapy’ and ‘surgery’ had been thrown about and resolutely ignored by me. I was choosing to focus on the rest, elevation and wearing the boot—three things I could manage on a low budget. I’d already figured that with the boot on, I could put a bit of weight on my foot without screaming from pain. The crutches helped, too.
Now, a little high on painkillers, watching the yellow and orange leaves gently float down from the mature trees, I felt hopeful.
“I called Huber.” Charlie bit back a smile. “They should be here soon.”
I nodded, my gaze still on the leaves. Falling slowly, gently towards the ground. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Absolutely perfect,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the leaves. He was looking at me.
Later, I blamed the painkillers for messing with my head. It was easier than blaming some deep, dark part of myself. Because I didn’t think about the morning-after pill. I briefly thought about it when the radiologist asked if there was any chance I could be pregnant. No, I said. Too quickly. But she didn’t notice, and it didn’t matter. Because I was going to get the pill. Then they offered me some codeine, and after that I didn’t think about it at all.
I didn’t think about it when I sat outside the freaking pharmacy, waiting for Charlie to pick up my prescriptions. I didn’t think about it when he carried me to the park bench, past a group of kids playing in a pile of fallen leaves.
I still wasn’t thinking about it when a blue Bronco claiming to be our taxi arrived or as I listened to the cute driver named Noah chat about his new life in Cozy Creek. In fact, he sounded so genuinely excited about small-town life that I got swept away into the fantasy of it all, imagining myself living here.
I made it all the way to our cabin, still floating in that lightheaded lull, feeling like everything would be fine. Like everything would always be fine. Until the rainbow-haired receptionist barged in, her voice shrieking from panic. “You’re back! You’re here.”
“Yes, we are,” Charlie confirmed, collapsing at the table. “Did we miss dinner?”
Rainbow-hair blinked, confused. “What? No. I don’t know. You’ve been away for twenty-four hours! Everyone’s freaking out. I had to inform your families.” She turned to me. “Your mother is on her way.”
“What? Right now?”
