AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Family.
Pearl came to mind. She called her every day after dinner. What time was it? She checked her phone. It was late, but she might still be up, hopefully mindful enough to be waiting for her call.
Pulling up the number, she hit Send and waited for Jeanette to answer.
“Good evening, Mrs. Shepherd.”
Birdie smiled.
“Hi, Jeanette. How’s our girl?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Shepherd,” she said, her tone genuinely apologetic. “Miss Pearl didn’t have a good day today.”
Birdie’s heart sank and the dang tears returned.
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
“I know you’re disappointed. But call back tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be more herself.”
“Tell me, is she scared?” There were some days when Pearl was frantic with the fear of not knowing where she was or recognizing the people taking care of her. It was heart-wrenching to watch, not sure who you felt more sorry for, Pearl for not knowing the people surrounding her, or the people for not being remembered.
When she began the visits with Marshall, he would ask Birdie to go in first and then let him know how she was doing. Which meant, to let him know if there might be a chance of her recognizing him.
On the bad days, you could see Marshall almost draw into himself, becoming quiet and melancholy, asking to be alone once they returned to the house.
Oh, but those days Pearl remembered him were utter magic. They would race to one another and hold each other so tight, as if afraid to let go. Afraid the moment would pass and it might very well be their last.
On those days, Birdie would quietly walk away, allowing them time alone to just bask in one another’s space. Breathe each other in. Praying they would see one another again and Pearl’s brain would allow for one more precious moment in time.
Jeanette responded, “I must admit, she’s been more confused today than most, Mrs. Shepherd. But don’t you worry about our girl. We’re all taking really good care of her. I got her settled down and sitting in her chair by the window. It took a while, but I convinced her to read one of her books. That seemed to help.”
Birdie smiled at that, even though her heart felt heavy for her friend.
“That’s good. Thank you, Jeanette. When she’s… back, please let her know I love her very much and will call her soon. Don’t tell her she missed my call though.”
“Of course not. That will only make her fret.”
“Exactly. Just tell her I’ll call her soon, as if she never missed a thing.”
“I certainly will. Before you go, let me send you over to the finance office. They asked me to transfer you the next time you called.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” She breathed in and sighed.
Jeanette transferred her and it didn’t take long to discover the details of her worst nightmare come to life. Somehow, funding for Pearl’s housing and medical care for the quarter had not been released by the assigned executor at the attorney’s office.
When she asked how much was owed, the woman read the statement balance over the phone and she felt the blood drain from her body.
Her hands shaking, she then asked just how late the payment was and the woman assured her that it was due only yesterday. She added that when she called the executor’s office earlier that morning, he informed her he no longer was responsible for making the agreed upon payments.
Of course he did.
“Did he mention who was responsible?” Closing her eyes she waited for it. Knew it was coming.
“He gave us your name and number. We assumed there had been a miscommunication somewhere. Hopefully you can get this resolved with a couple phone calls.”
More like a couple hundred thousand dollars of attorney bills to fight whatever Errol and Flynn had done to defer the responsibility of Pearl’s payments to her, knowing it was impossible for her to pay it for any length of time.
Errol must be sitting in a dark corner with a raven on his shoulder, rubbing his hands together with maniacal glee, while shopping online for black wedding dresses for their upcoming nuptials.
Over her dead body.
Birdie assured the woman the payment would be taken care of as soon as possible and thanked her for the heads-up.
After ending the call, she did a mental calculation of what little money she had left. Just enough to cover the amount the woman recited over the phone, with less than a thousand dollars left over.
“Fuck me,” she said to herself.
She needed a job. Yesterday.
