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“Noted.” As was the less than confident look on her face. She talked a good talk, but didn’t always walk the walk so match.
Chapter 12
Kik
As silence descended on the car again, I fell back into my thoughts where I’d left off, going over and over the conversation I’d had with my dad at the hospital. He’d greeted me warmly, if not weakly, when I’d entered the room, and it had all gone downhill from there.
“Hey Angelita, you shouldn’t have come. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Hey Dad. What the hell? Of course I wanted to be here. Fuck work. Fuck everything, in fact.”
“Watch your language.”
“Ha! Why? What drugs are they giving you? I’m not about to change the habits of a lifetime. Habits that you taught me, by the way. You raised me as a foul-mouthed tomboy. Did you think that one day you’d wake up and I’d have morphed into this ladylike princesa? Fuck that shit.”
“Hmm… well, thank you for coming, but you didn’t have to. I just wanted you to know what was going on that’s all. In case…” He let the words trail off, looking past me, and refusing to make eye contact.
“Stop this shit. Where else would I be, but here?”
“Anywhere else. Work. Or having a life with your friends. Or with a guy. You’re young, you need to live your life. You can’t be chained to me forever.”
“You are my life. What did you mean before—in case what?”
“In case I don’t make it this time.” He finally met my gaze, with tears glistening in the corners of his deep brown eyes that were so similar to my own.
“What are you talking about? Of course you’re going to make it. This is just another setback. You’ll fight it, like you always do, then you’ll be back on track.”
“I’m not on track or off. There’s no track. I reached the end of the line a long time ago Angelita, and I’m tired.” He swiped at the tears just starting to leak from his eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is it the medication? What have they given you? Do you want me to leave so that you can get some rest?”
“No. I meant I’m tired of always fighting, and getting nowhere. I’ve had enough.”
“Dad, you’re not making any sense.”
“I don’t want to fight anymore, I’m done. I need to face the fact that this is only going one way for me. I’m not getting a lung, so all I’m doing is dragging out the inevitable. I don’t want to do that anymore. I just want the fight to be over.”
“Dad. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of this m’ija,. You’re probably doped up to your eyeballs, and this is the drugs talking.” I couldn’t stop the tears from cascading down my cheeks, matching his. “You need to get some rest, and when you wake up, everything will seem different. Better.”
“No it won’t. When I wake up, I’ll still be sick. I’ll still be overwhelmed and underinsured. I’ll still be screwed. None of that is about to change.”
“Stop talking like that. We need to stay positive. You’re going to beat this thing, but it can’t happen if you don’t believe it will.” I was full-on bawling by that point, huge ugly sobs wracking my body.
“That’s bullshit, m’ija. Crap that rich people tell suckers like us to keep us shoveling shit until the inevitable bitter end. I’m done with swallowing that crap. It’s time to be real and prepare for the fact that it’s over for me. I’m done.”
I tried not to let his words get to me. He was sick, and tired—so much so that he was being moved to Critical Care—it was the illness speaking, not him. The move was the reason I was leaving the hospital relatively early—the critical care unit only allowed visitors for a short time, so I hadn’t been able to stay long. I had to work tonight, too, so I wouldn’t have been able to stay all evening, even if was an option.
* * *
When we pulled up to my apartment building, I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. One more moment in Drew’s company, and I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions, for more reasons than one, some of which I really didn’t want to think too deeply about.
As I headed inside, I couldn’t remember ever wanting to be in my own home more than I did at that moment, but as I reached into my backpack for my keys, I noticed the hefty padlock across the door, and a piece of paper I recognized straight away as an eviction noticed slapped onto it.
Shit. Fuck. What the actual…?
Yes, I was behind with the rent, I tried not to be, but every time I got a little ahead, or maybe just even, a new crisis like today’s would unfold, and I’d end up short on the rent money again. I shuffled overdue bills around as best I could, paying certain bills one month, then skipping them the next in favor of others, rotating between them in this way, so that nothing ever went unpaid for too long.
The rent was no different, and though he didn’t like it, our landlord seemed to put up with it because he knew I was good for the money when I had it, and other than that, Dad and I had always been model tenants. I couldn’t understand why now would be any different.
