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I miss you, too.
Once Dad checked in, Mom and I kissed him goodbye and spent the next forty-five minutes filling out all the paperwork for the surgery. The average cost of a kidney transplant was four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The first one was mostly covered by insurance, but still, we had to use some money from selling Dad’s bakery and the house to cover what was left. How on earth were we going to afford to pay the bill this time? Then I thought about Mom fixing up the house and realized, it wasn’t so she could live there forever. I touched her arm and could feel the tremble I hadn’t noticed before. Our eyes met and hers darted away.
“Selling the house is a last resort,” she whispered, then quietly provided the information about our home that we both knew the bank would take to collect the outstanding debt. I waited for Mom to fill out the insurance part, but she put in a different company I had never heard of.
What’s Easy Health?
“What happened to the insurance, Mom?”
She squared her shoulders. “Our old insurance dropped us for too many late payments a while ago, but I found a new one online. It’s not too bad, really, don’t worry. I’ll work out a payment plan.” Mom tried to reassure me, but I didn’t believe her.
I did a search on my phone while she spoke privately with the financial advisor. The first search result called the company a scam, and my heart sank.Poor Mom and Dad. They were still suffering while I went off to Paris. But wasn’t that part of the “job” Paul hired me to do?
There was no way they’d be able to afford a high out-of-pocket copayment, if this insurance even pays anything. The reviews online were far from encouraging.
“I have all your signatures.” The financial advisor continued to type on the computer. “However, we’ll need—”
“Nadia, can you go sit in the family room?” Mom interrupted the administrator. “Just in case the doctor or nurse comes out to share something.”
I frowned but reluctantly stood and did as she asked. After taking a seat, I took out my phone to check my email. There was a new message from the cafeteria I used to work at.That’s quick.
Re: Reference Request
Dear Ms. Sokol,
We’re sorry, but we’re unable to provide a reference for you since you left with little notice. We can, however, confirm to your potential employer the time you worked here and left.
All the best,
Martin Frankel, Senior Manager
NYC Express Food, Inc.
Shit.The food service job was the only employment experience I had in NYC. Having no reference wasn’t good. If I left off the four months I worked there, my resume would be even less attractive to potential employers. Still, I accessed the employment apps stored on my phone and spent time sending my resume. I didn’t qualify for much, and what I did qualify for, the work times conflicted with my college courses.What can I do?
Mom returned and sat down next to me. She glanced at my screen. “You’ll find something.”
I gave her a weak smile.I doubt it.However, this wasn’t the time or place to worry about it. Dad was top priority. And I still hadn’t spent all the money Paul gave to me.It’ll have to do for now.
“You still look sick.” She dug in her oversized handbag and handed me more cold medicine.
“I’ll get a drink from the vending machine. What would you like?” I asked, digging out cash to use from my purse.
Mom handed me five dollars, and I groaned.
“I have money.”
“Take it anyway. Apple juice, please, Nadia.”
I walked down the corridor to the vending machine and joined the queue to wait for my turn.
“Hello. You’re Nadia Sokol?” a musical voice called behind me.
I turned to find an older man with a crew cut. His stoic stance screamed ex-military or cop. He approached me with a wave.
“Yes, I am. Why?”
He chuckled. “I’m Von Dorman, a reporter for Thunder Media.” He placed a business card in my line of sight and waited for me to take it.
