“Wait, what about Saturday night? When are you picking me up?” she asked, slipping her arm in mine.
“I already told you I couldn’t do it. Stop acting like you didn’t hear me,” I said.
She shrugged. “I know you’ll come. You won’t stand me up.” The cheeriness in her voice made her sound as crazy as the giggling did.
When I stepped outside the library, a voice called out from across the lawn. “Jason.”
I shook Johanna’s hold on my arm loose and walked away toward Morris.
“Where did you find the girl with you in the picture that you tweeted this weekend, and where can I get one? Because, dude,” Morris said, “she’s smokin’.” He gave me a nod, his eyes wide with appreciation. Jess did that to all men.
I couldn’t keep from smiling. She was mine, and damned if that didn’t feel good. No one knew the Jess I did, and that felt even better. “Yes, she is,” I agreed. “She’s f**king perfect.”
Morris followed me to my next class, and I got to talk about Jess. It wasn’t until later that evening when Jax called that I remembered the call that Jo had answered. Checking my recent calls, I saw Jess’s name at the time Jo had answered my phone.
“FUCK!” I roared, ignoring the people around me, and dialed Jess’s number. I needed to find some privacy. I had some explaining to do.
I called three times and it kept going to voicemail. I checked the time. She was still at work. There was a chance she didn’t take her phone in with her. I left her a message telling her to call me, then sent a text message saying I was sorry about earlier. If she hadn’t called in two hours, I was calling again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
JESS
He had called three times while I was at work. I had sent it to voice mail each time. His message said for me to call him. So did his text message. Why had it taken him so long to decide he needed to contact me and explain?
I pulled into the driveway and momma’s car was still there. She should have been at work by now. She hardly ever missed work. I climbed out of the truck and headed for the house quickly. My thoughts focused on Momma.
Opening the door, I started to call out for her when I saw her sitting on the sofa. The look on her face told me something was, in fact, wrong. Had Jason’s mother talked to her? Threatened her? No, Momma would be in jail, not sitting on the sofa missing work. She didn’t take shit from anyone.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, dropping my book bag to the painted cement floor and walking over to her. “Are you sick?” I asked, unable to sit down. I needed her to ease my mind. I had a million different scenarios going through my head.
Momma motioned to the chair behind me. “Sit,” she said.
I shook my head. “No. Tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded. The worry and concern had exploded into full-blown fear. This wasn’t right. The last time she had acted like this, my best friend in kindergarten had been hit by a car riding her bike and died. That alone told me something was terribly wrong.
“I got a lot to say, and you standing there ain’t gonna make me talk faster. So sit your ass down,” she said.
“Is someone dead?” I asked, needing to know that Rock, Trisha, and the kids were okay.
She shook her head. “No, ain’t no one dead. Now sit down,” she said, pointing to the chair again.
I noticed that the ever-present cigarette in her hand was missing. Had she lost her job? Surely not. They loved her there.
“I didn’t have no errands to run today. I had a doctor’s appointment,” she said, then cleared her throat. “It was my fifth one this month. About six weeks ago I noticed a lump in my breast when taking a shower. It was hard to feel since I have the implants, so it was pretty big when I noticed it. I got me an appointment and went in, and they had to run some tests. Today they got back the final results, that it is breast cancer, and ’cause it’s been there awhile it’s spread some. They’re gonna need to do a mastectomy, and I’ll need chemo treatments.”
I couldn’t move. All I could do was sit there and stare at her. This felt like death. This was just as bad. “Can they get it all?” I asked, unable to ask her if this would kill her. I couldn’t accept that.
She nodded. “Yeah. They can. They think I’ll be fine once they do the mastectomy and I go through chemo. They’re positive about my recovery. So don’t go worrying about that. Problem here is, I ain’t got insurance. I make too much to get government help and not enough to afford the monthly costs of it. The hospital is going to let me make monthly payments. They actually start this month because all that testing wasn’t cheap. We’re gonna have to move. We need cheaper rent. I’ll also need to find a job that I can work and make enough money to support us. My old one isn’t gonna be possible no more.”
She was going to live. That was all that mattered. I didn’t care about moving. We’d made it through hard times. Momma never let us go hungry. She’d done whatever she could to pay the bills.
Now it was my turn to take care of her. I loved my job, but it wasn’t nearly enough money. I needed something that paid more. “I’ll get a job. Something that pays well,” I told her.
She grimaced and wrung her hands in front of her. “Ever since you was a little girl, I wanted big things for you. That beauty of yours was a gift. Then you ended up with a smart head, too. That brain and those looks were meant to give you the world. You shouldn’t be here with this burden on you. I didn’t get insurance. Now I’m paying for it, and so are you.”
My momma had fought hard my entire life to be a single mom and not lean on a man for anything. She used to say you can only depend on yourself. I disagreed. She could depend on me. “I’ll use this brain and these looks to take care of us,” I assured her. “We’ll be fine. I promise. It’s time to learn to depend on someone else. I’ve got this.”
I stood up and walked over to the sofa and sat down beside her. This time I pulled her into my arms, instead of the other way around, and held her. The only person in my life who I never doubted loved me was my momma. I would do whatever I had to in order to make sure she got better. “We can do this together,” I said, more to myself than her.