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“Mmm hmm, anyways, we came here to talk about Praise. I know you know we got her into one of True and Atlas’ shelters, but we wanted to talk to her and needed your assistance to make it happen.”
“What can I do?”
“Help us ambush her,” Joyce says.
“Excuse me?” I ask, hoping I heard her wrong but knowing I did not.
“She is as slippery as an eel, and nothing we have tried so far has succeeded, so maybe if you call her over or something, we can kinda….”
“Ambush her,” I finish for her.
“Yes, but once we talk to her, if she doesn’t want what we have to offer, we will leave her be. But I was her once for a long time, and I wished someone would come along to help me, but knowing me, I wouldn’t accept help.”
“I will get her here, but once you talk with her, if she really does not want your help, you have to promise to leave her alone.”
“Deal,” Joyce says before I can get the statement fully out of my mouth.
Praise
“Hello, Praise; she is having a good day today and has been asking for you,” Nancy, the head nurse says. “Also, this month’s payment is late. If you can’t pay the fee by this Friday, we’re going to have to place her in the state-funded facility.”
“I understand. I get paid this Friday. I will bring it personally.”
“Okay, I will put that in her chart.”
I walk away from Nancy’s desk feeling ten times my age. I am barely twenty years old, but the weight I carry feels like a boulder strapped to my back.
I should be able to go have fun, travel the world, and fall in love like other girls my age, but from the age of eighteen, I have been not only responsible for myself but also for, “Hi, momma,” I say when I walk in the hospital room where my mother has lived for the past two years.
“Praise, is that you? Where have you been?”
“Working momma.”
“I’m so sorry, sunshine, I left this all on you. It’s not fair to you.”
“I am okay, momma. I have a good-paying job,”
“You look better,” she says, and I crack a sad smile because that means she remembers more, but I’m sad because she remembers things.
“I have a place to stay. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m doing okay, momma,”
“I am your mother, sugah. I am always going to worry about you. And once I am home with the Lord, I can take care of you again like I used to before this disease took my best years from me. Your father and I obviously didn’t plan as well as we thought we did.”
“There was no way to plan this, momma. Stop worrying. I brought dinner,” I told her as I set up the small rickety table for her and me to share dinner. It’s been two years since the night that everything changed; my parents were out celebrating their twentieth anniversary when on their way home, a thick heavy fog rolled in. By the time my father noticed the car stopped on the freeway, it was too late, and he hit the car, killing himself and the driver of the other car. My mother survived barely but had severe injuries. She had multiple surgeries, but mentally she was never the same; more and more, she would revert to her own little world, a world where she did not know who I was. The insurance only paid partially for the hospital bills and damages, and the family of the driver sued us for everything the insurance didn’t cover. We lost the house, and by then, it was evident that my mother was never going to get any better. A social worker at the hospital found this facility, but the cost is steep. What was left of the sale of the house went to the first year of her stay, but after that, it was up to me to figure out a way to pay for her care. It was pure luck that I was able to get into the cooking school, and me throwing the final exam to stay at the restaurant with Chef Jaasiel so I could stay close to my mother. Getting into the shelter came right on time because I was at the end of my rope. I pay for a large term life policy that I have set up in a trust so that if I die before my mom, it will pay for her stay for at least the next twenty years and her burial. Between that and her stay here, I did not have money for anything else. Asher pays his staff well, but I am still a student chef, so even though the salary is generous, it wasn’t enough to cover everything.
My mother and I share dinner, but by the time I leave, she has gone back inside her world and has completely forgotten who I am. I kiss her on the top of her head before heading back out to walk the five miles to the bus stop that will take me back to the shelter.
I have to be up early tomorrow morning so I can help set it up for the day. I pull the collar up on my threadbare jacket and begin the long walk home.
Jaasiel
“Praise, I have dinner for my family, and I needed a little help with the cooking. Every time I turn around, there are more and more people being added. I mean, that is if you want to earn a little extra money, but it’s short notice; it’s tonight.”
“Oh, um, sure. What time?” I give her the time to be there, and we finish getting the kitchen prepped. There will be dinner, but there will also be an intervention, an ambush, and hopefully, a happy ending.
A few hours later and we are ready for the intervention to begin.
“How many people are supposed to be here?” Praise asks.
