Alpha Billionaire Series

MANDY

I looked numbly out the window. The view was boring, just another wing of the hospital. Row after row of windows with slatted blinds. Below were concrete and dumpsters, and graffiti. There was a litter-strewn alley and then the backside of another building. A wall of bricks with no windows. It was as bleak as I felt.

I cast my gaze back around Mom's room. The machines whirred and beeped. Mom slept. I was glad one of us was sleeping. I had my laptop, but I couldn't focus enough to work. Every time I started, I got swept up with the “why bother” MiMa Play wouldn't be mine after about two months. If I did nothing, it would chug along under its own momentum. Orders had alread been placed, the invoicing system revolved practically on its own. All I really had to do for the next two months was make sure the incoming money got allocated to the appropriate designated areas, and my few employees left got paid.

I contemplated calling Grant and letting him take possession early. But there was a glimmer of satisfaction in making him wait for it. I held onto that glimmer for all it was worth. Glimmers were all I had these days. A glimmer of joy in the laughter of a smiling nurse, a glimmer of hope when Mom showed improvements after an infusion. A glimmer of the future when the baby kicked.

“Hey, Miss Mandy,’ Mom's afternoon nurse swept in.

“Hey,” I said. I couldn't remember her name, even though it was up on the smeared whiteboard. What I did remember was he smile, and sense of authentic caring I got from her. She was the personification of a squishy warm hug.

“I see we're still in the same clothes as yesterday,” she teased.

“Yeah I shrugged. I'd been in the same yoga pants and tunic for three days now. “How is she doing?”

“Your mama's numbers are good. Strong pulse rate, high oxygen, a little low on the blood pressure, but that's nothing to be concerned with."

“Butis it working? They gave her an injection yesterday, and all she has done is sleep. How do we know it's working?”

“Miss Mandy, that's a question for the doctor” she said.

“Yeah, but I haven't seen him."

She stood at a computer monitor and scrolled through a few different pages. “It looks like he stopped by this morning. Maybe you were finally asleep? I know you haven't been sleeping. When was the last time you went home and took a shower?”

“I don’t stink,” I mumbled.

“It's not about being smelly honey. You are growing a baby. You have got to learn to take care of yourself first, are you won't be any good for anyone else.”

I looked at Mom. Her color was better, but she was still so frail.

“Your mama isn't going anywhere. She's hanging on strong. She'll be here in the morning. When was the last time you had a warm meal?”

Itwas as if she knew I had dinner out of a vending machine last night because the evening shift nurses didn't always put in meal request for me. It wasn't their job to do so, it was a really nice courtesy when they did.

“Go home. I know, give me your cell number.”

Itold her and she wrote it in big numbers on the whiteboard. “There, now if anything happens, we have your number. someone will call you. I'll even text you before my shift ends just to let you know.”

“don’t know,” I hesitated.

“If you don't go home and eat, and sleep, I'm going to get the doctor to order you a saline and dextrose drip and put you in hospital bed.”

She had a stubborn streak in her I hadn't expected. It was another glimmer, someone out there was taking care of me when was floundering.

“Okay, okay. I'll go" I didn't move.

“Don’t mind me, I think I'll just hang around to make sure you do."

“You win" I got to my feet and started collecting my things into my tote bag. I kissed Mom on the forehead and mumbled I'd be back in the morning.

“I'l see you tomorrow, Miss Mandy."

I felt ejected from the hospital. I mean, I had just been kicked out. On the way home I stopped at a corner gyro shop and ordered a gyro and gr**e leaves to go. If I looked as rough as I was feeling, I didn't need to be eating out where the general public could see me. I didn’t want to scare off their clientele.

The stupid little house where we lived was dark and cold. I flipped the switch in the kitchen and walked out to the front. I opened the front door and stepped out to the mailbox. I could have saved myself time by just coming in the front, but the back door was closer to where I parked.

Everything normal felt annoying. I had a thick wad of mail. I carried it back to the kitchen. I could sort it as I ate.

I opened the Styrofoam containers. I didn’t have enough energy to transfer my lunch to a plate. I did use a real fork from the utensil drawer, and not the flimsy plastic one that had been included with my order.

The tang of the pickling on the grape leaves made my tongue water. They were so good. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the food that didn't taste like that from the hospital. After a few days, everything began tasting the same, smelling the same. It was all antiseptic and rubbing alcohol smelling, even the blankets.

The first night I had thought my blanket and pillow had smelled clean. Now it was just the smell of the hospital. Suddenly I was looking forward to my own bed, my own pillows, and the smells that I identified as mine, and home.

I glanced at the stack of mail. I needed to sort through all of it. So much had gathered in just a few days. It was mostly junk, and credit card solicitations. If I wasn't afraid to toss out something important, or the electricity bill, I would have dropped the entire stack, without even looking at it into the recycling.

Isorted through the pile. Junk, junk, junk. I tore each piece of junk in half. I didn’t need any more credit cards, I sure as hell didn't need any more debt.

Speaking of debt, the next in the stack was a student loan invoice. I set that aside to look at when I had a little more mental fortitude. More junk, more junk. I picked up an official-looking piece addressed to my father. An attorney's office was the return address. It looked official.

I mentally girded my proverbial loins and opened it. I groaned. “You may be eligible for compensation... It was another stupi solicitation. I tore the envelope up, and I continued to tear the pieces smaller and smaller. “Stupid f****g junk mail!”

I swept the rest of the mail off the table in a fit. It was all a waste of my time and energy. Neither of which I had very much o I breathed hard through my nose, trying to calm down so that I didn't choke on my food.

I didn't feel like eating anymore. I forced myself to take another few bites before closing the container up and putting it awa in the refrigerator. I could finish it later.

I glared down at the pile of scattered envelopes. Stupid junk mail. I stepped over it all and went and took a shower. I couldn't say that I felt any better having bathed. I was still tired, and now my hair was wet. I didn't feel like dealing with it, and for a split second, I thought about just cutting it all off.

“Where are the scissors?”

I headed toward the kitchen with the intention of locating the scissor. I didn’t know if I would follow through and cut my hai off.

I was faced with mail all over the floor. “Damn.”

Ileaned over and began picking envelopes up. Large packets of information from roofers, and postcards from driveway repaving companies. I didn't own this place; I certainly wasn't going to be doing any of the upkeep on it. That was the owner's job. The electricity bill had been tucked in the middle of all the junk, just as I thought it would be. There was another envelope from the hospital. It looked like a bill.

Isat and placed the pile of envelopes down. I shouldn't have a bill from the hospital. I already gave them everything I had, covering the cost of medication that insurance wouldn't and paying all of the hospital out-of-pocket patient expenses. Maybe it was an overpayment. I would accept a refund.

Itore open the envelope and stared. I had to be reading this wrong. There was no way I owed them that much more. I had already given them so much.

Maybe I had the dates crossed, and this was the bill that I already paid. I picked up my phone and called the number on the bill. I explained everything when they answered the phone.

“Let me look that up and see what's going on here,” the operator on the other end of the call said.

I waited on hold ignoring the hold music and repetition of their automated system telling me my phone call was important to them and the next operator would be with me shortly.

“Ms. Wilson?”

“Ah, yeah?” I really needed her to tell me it was a mistake, a duplicate bill.

“According to the records, this is correct. Your previous payment was applied last week, and these charges are going into the next billing cycle”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, she was telling me that after paying them thousands and thousands of dollars, I owed them even more.

“No,” I cried. I hung up and began sobbing. I didn’t know what else I could do. I didn’t have anything else left to lose. I had lost everything, my brother, my father, the business, I couldn't lose Mom too. I wouldn't survive it. There was nothing left. Itossed the junk mail into the recycling, putting the hospital bill on top. I knew ignoring it wouldn't make it go away, but I couldn't deal with it right then.

I rummaged and pulled my laptop from my tote back. Tears streamed down my face as I waited for the computer to boot. I logged on and went straight to a real estate site to see how much the house on the lake was worth. I couldn't think of anything else to do. I was going to have to sell the lake house.