have that kind of money in our checking account,” I said. “Arthur has frozen our access to the business funds.” Continue Reading → Sarah watched me, her expression professional but not unkind, her gaze lingering on my silver band. “I cannot file the initial paperwork without the retainer, Mrs. Miller,” she said. “The county clerk requires the filing
The stack of unpaid fuel bills on Ben’s desk was three inches high, smelling of damp earth from the work boots of the crew. Arthur stood in the doorway of the small trailer office, his heavy brass ring tapping against the metal frame. “I need the keys to the file cabinet, Elena,” Arthur said. I moved a stack of invoices for the November lawn cleanups,my thumb rubbing the silver band on my left ring finger. “Ben always handles the commercial accounts himself.” “Ben is in Room 412,” Arthur said, his voice filling the narrow trailer. “The city winter contract needs a signature by five o’clock, or we lose the salt route.” He tapped the ring again, three quick strikes on the metal. “I can take thepaperwork to the hospital during lunch,” I said. “He does not need to be reading spreadsheets right now,” Arthur said. “Just give me the ledger for the payroll account, and I will handle the rest.” I looked down at the oak desk, noticing the lower drawer was firmly shut. “I will look for the key after I visit him,” I said. Arthur took a step closer his heavy work boots creaking on the linoleum. “Do not wait too long, Elena. Some decisions cannot be put off.” By two in the afternoon, the pale autumn sun had disappeared behind the grey brick wall of the Saint Jude annex. Ben lay back against the white pillows of Room 412, his breathing light and shallow. I reached over to pull the green thermal blanket up to his chin, tucking the edge under his shoulder. “You look tired, El,” Ben said, his voice a raspy whisper. He reached up to rub his left temple, his eyes closing against the harsh fluorescent light of the ceiling. “I am fine,” I said. “Arthur asked about the city contract.” Before Ben could answer, his chest rose sharply, his hands gripping the side rails of the hospital bed. He gasped, a dry, hollow sound that seemed to pull all the air from the room, and his head fell back hard against the pillow. The red light on the wall above the bed began to flash. Continue Reading → Dr. Charles Marcus stood near the hallway drinking fountain, holding a metal clipboard against his white coat. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, looking down at the chart before he looked up at me. “The latest scan shows the tumor has spread to the lining of the lungs, Elena,” Dr. Marcus said, his voice slow and deliberate. I held my breath, waiting for the words he had been keeping back for weeks. “There are no more treatments we can offer to change this,” he said. “We are looking at weeks now, not months.” I reached for the silver band on my finger, twisting it until the skin turned red. “He wants to walk down the aisle,” I said. “We bought the invitations.” Dr. Marcus put a hand on my shoulder, his fingers warm and steady. “We will do everything we can to keep him comfortable.” The parking lot of GreenLeaf Landscaping was dark when I got back to my car, the gravel crunching under my shoes. Arthur was leaning against the driver’s side door of my Buick, holding a stainless steel flask. “I brought you some hot tea,” Arthur said, stepping back so I could reach the handle. “You look like you need it.”
