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“So this is your revenge?”
“I call it justice.”
“And the news website?” Derek asks. This self-righteous act is really starting to get to me. Am I to sit back and do nothing while these people get away with their misprints and destruction of people’s lives?
“What website?”
“The one that posted the pictures of you and Aly, then printed a retraction the next morning.”
“It was awfully kind of them.” Though, as always, too little too late. The damage had already been done. I’d been receiving phone calls from my father ever since the incident, all of which I swiftly ignored.
Aly still isn’t talking to me. That’s the only reason I’ve kept my phone on at all. Just in case she changes her mind and finally decides to answer any of my messages.
I learned from Derek that the story is all the people on campus are talking about. Staff, students. They are all curious to know what mythical powers Aly must possess to have thawed the heart of the most feared and desired teacher on campus. Derek swears the second title should belong to him, but he’s married, so that is likely what puts me ahead of him in the market. Or so he claims. Plus he doesn’t have a few billion to his name to sweeten the pot.
All Derek’s words, of course.
I still haven’t told him about my father or the lack of funds padding my bank account. I haven’t told him I might not be able to pay for supplies the same way I always have. How do I open that conversation?
“Does Aly even know about the hospital bills yet?”
“No.”
I did my best to ensure she didn’t know. She’ll simply go to make her first payment and the entire thing with be paid off. I even worked out some sort of credit system with the ladies at the desk, so she’d have some money left over to get her mother the services she needs. I overstepped, perhaps. I just couldn’t stand to see her overworked and feeling helpless anymore. She can get mad all she wants, but there was no way I was going to let her keep suffering like that. Not when I could do something to help. “If she does, I’m sure I’ll hear about it.”
I pour myself into the designs Derek’s given me. Some of them consist of minor repairs: drywall orders, paint, carpeting. Others are a full-scale renovation that requires opening up walls, removing black mold or replacing roofs. He even has a few prints for houses, with plans to build them from the ground up. This will take months to complete, and I don’t know how much money in supplies.
They’ve already got some backing. Marianne says it’s enough, but they always seem to run a little short. Something goes wrong. Labor takes an additional day. There’s always a little extra cost somewhere. Before they were small projects, so the price jump was a drop in the bucket compared to this grand overtaking of households. Before I had an almost never-ending supply to cushion them with, now that’s all gone.
I compile my list of supplies. We’re already into six figures with only half of the housing projects in this set accounted for, at least in terms of what it will cost to fix or build them. I can handle this project. All the projects in this series, with no trouble at all. But whatever project he and Marianne have lined up next is still up in the air. Will Derek still want my help if I can’t pay for things like I used to?
“Is this what rich people do all day?” Derek asks out of nowhere. “I mean when they don’t have jobs? Just sit around throwing money at problems?”
Was I that obvious? Or are we still talking about me paying Aly’s medical bills? What was the problem with wanting to help in any of these situations? “I think the rich person not having a job is the bigger question. We have to talk about these stereotypes you have, Derek. It’s unsettling.”
“You can make jokes all you want, but I know what’s up.” Derek tosses his pen down on the table and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re trying to make everything better, rather than just confronting your feelings. Have you even told Aly you love her, yet?”
“Can we just go back to talking about barbecues and football like normal men?”
Why can’t we be like those men who only communicate in grunts and remark on how great the beer tastes? No, Derek has to ask me about my feelings and what I plan on doing with my life. Marianne has put him up to this somehow. This is not a natural response.
“We’re psychologists, Zach,” he says. “Feelings is what we do.”
“I haven’t told Aly anything.” I groan and rake a hand through my hair. “About the bills, about how I feel. It’s all just been so much to handle at once. And she’s not even talking to me at the moment.”
“Because you don’t know where she lives. Didn’t you drive her home?”
“I went to her apartment, Derek. She’s staying with her mom for a while.” And then there was that whole situation. Aly needed time to heal, to focus on what was happening with her mother, what she planned to do as far as treatment options. I would only get in the way of that. What had Lyndsey called it? I am chaos and self-serving. That isn’t what Aly needs right now.
“It’s better this way,” I say softly, to myself.
“Man, you’re crazy. There’s no way that girl doesn’t need someone there for her right now.” Derek nudges me with the back of his hand. “It doesn’t have to be some grand gesture, either. You don’t have to fix the problem. You don’t have to offer life-altering words of wisdom. You’ve just got to be there. You need to listen to her, let her vent.”
I let the silence answer for me. I’m in no mood for this lecture. No matter which way I play it, I’m doing wrong by Aly somehow. To my surprise, Derek doesn’t press me further. He simply goes back to his work.
Maybe I should find Aly. I’m sure Lyndsey could be persuaded to give me her mother’s address once I plead my case. Derek’s right. I’ve been so used to just throwing money at a situation rather than finding a way to resolve it some other way. Isn’t that what normal people do? What I’m going to have to learn to do in whatever life I have with Aly? I’m going to have to confront my feelings, what I’ve done to her, and all the things I didn’t do right from the beginning.
We’re supposed to be doing this as a team.
