A Boy I Used to Love(7)

I shook my head. It only got me upset when I thought about what he could have been doing in life without me. Granted, he would have been in the same town, the same bar, the same car, and have the same fate, but still …  what if he had met the right woman?

"You wear guilt, Lacey," Jenny said. "I don't like that look on you."

"It's hard to explain."

"No, it's not. You just don't want to tell an old hag like me."

"Don't say that … "

"Lacey, can we talk?" Becky asked as she poked her head in the room.

I stood up and released my hold on Jenny's frail hand.

"Becky," Jenny said.

"Yes?" Becky asked.

"I'm sorry for what I said. You're not a cunt."

My nerves pinched, hearing a seventy-year-old woman say that word.

"Thank you," Becky said.

"You are a bitch, though," Jenny said with a sly grin. She then looked at me and winked. "And you, Lacey, you owe me the reason why you don't like this time of the year. I want to know."

"I'll tell you," I said. "You just rest. No more cleaning the house. Okay? We can help with that. Or we can talk to your family about getting help."

"Help," Jenny said and curled her lip.

She was strong, fierce, and defiant. She had beaten cancer twice in her life. The third round was the losing one, but even still, she was putting up a hell of a fight. As far as I was concerned, she was going to pass because of age, not cancer.

"Don't be stubborn, Jenny," I said with a smile.

Jenny was quick, as always. She pointed her finger at me. "You don't be stubborn, either. If you're avoiding something important by taking those trips, you're only hurting yourself."

I laughed and walked out of the room.

Becky was waiting for me like a parent ready to scorn a teenager for showing up late.

I froze. "Yes?"

"You two are close."

"I've known her for years."

"You're personal with her."

"And that's wrong?"

"What's with this trip? Are you taking vacation time off again?"

"Becky … "

"Look, I'm on your side with everything here. Bev has tried but she has no patience anymore. You barely took time off after Kyle passed. We all let that slide. But since then you've been a flake. Sorry to say it like that. I just got off the phone with Bev. She's pissed. It's good that Jenny took to you but she needs to understand her situation. She can't be standing on chairs. She can't be mean to me or anyone else."

"Can we go into the kitchen?"

"Sure."

I wanted to give Jenny a little peace. But when I got Becky into the kitchen, I lost my edge.

My finger literally touched her nose, but if I didn't at least do that I was going to haul off and slap her or punch her. And knowing Becky, she'd be the type to sue me or something crazy.



       
         
       
        

"Stay the fuck out of my business," I growled at Becky.

Her eyes went wide. Her eyes were damn black, her eyeballs piercing white. I could see the eye liner around her eyes. She looked like a scared raccoon.

"You know nothing about me," I said. "Nothing. What I do. Where I go. Who I did it all with. That's my business. If Bev has a problem with me she can call me. She can sit me down and tell me anything she wants. Not you. You're not my boss. You have no personal skills, either. You wonder why Jenny calls you names? You treat her - and everyone else - like a child. A damn child. These are adults. These are humans. They're sick. They're frail. They're goddamn dying, Becky."

Becky stepped back and cleared her throat. "Well, you can't take a vacation. Whatever your issues are, you should seek medical help. I'm leaving. I have somewhere else to go now."

Becky walked away without getting hit, which was a miracle itself.

I put my hands on the counter and hung my head.

Was I that obvious? Had everyone picked up on my insistent need to get away during that one week of the year? Not even the week, just that one day. That one damn day …  I lifted my head and saw that the day was coming soon. Again.

I blinked fast, trying to hold back my tears.

That one day.

It was just days away.

What was I going to do this year?



I quit.

The words seemed to flow so easily from my mouth and across Bev's desk. She gently peeled her glasses off her face and just stared at me. It was really that simple. I wasn't going to talk about Kyle. I wasn't going to talk about grieving, my failed relationship, the guilt I felt for what happened to Kyle, or that I was thinking about how to avoid the world on a certain day that was now even closer.