“I paid all the bills last month, didn’t I?” I shot back. “I’ll do the same with these. Just get them on a payment plan and send me the information, just like all the others. I get paid at the end of the month and will handle it then.”
There was a long silence on the line. The audible manifestation of the abyss of our relationship.
“Kai, can I ask you something?”
“Just ask it,” I said testily.
“What made you want to do this?” he asked. “After everything that… happened when you were younger.”
I let out a long sigh. I’d been wondering that myself lately. And I didn’t have a good answer.
“She needs the treatments,” I said. “How the hell else are you guys going to pay for it?”
“Kai…” he began to say.
“Just send it to my apartment. We don’t need to talk about it beyond that. Goodbye, Dad.”
I hung up, tossed the phone on the bedside table, and turned away from it in anger.
And saw Ginny standing in the doorway, staring at me.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said.
She stood very still. I got the impression I was being studied and measured. “The story you told my parents at dinner. About your mom, and the cancer. It’s true, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No!” Ginny snapped, kneeling in front of me on the bed. “Don’t close yourself up like that. You can tell me.”
“We shouldn’t discuss personal things while—”
“Fuck your stupid rule!” she said heatedly. “You’ve already told me, you just tried playing it off as your fake back story. Your mom is sick, isn’t she?”
I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want tothinkabout it tonight, the one night of the week I looked forward to. My escape from it all.
“Yes.”
“That’s why you’re doing this,” she said, voice suddenly tender. “You’re paying for her treatments.”
“That’s not why I started,” I said. “But yeah. It’s the reason I’ve kept going.”
She threw herself into my arms, and I hugged her stiffly. “It’s okay.”
“I know.”
“Shh. It’s going to be okay,” she repeated.
I felt my protective walls begin to crumble. “I know.”
Ginny clung to me while rocking back and forth. “It’s okay, Kai. It’s okay.”
“I said I know.”
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And then I was trembling as the emotions came pouring out of me. Anger and frustration and grief, in varying amounts, erupted out of me like a volcano. I allowed myself to be vulnerable then, a few tears squeezed out of my eyes while Ginny held me tightly. There was no one else in my life I could do this with. As crazy as our professional relationship was, it was the strongest relationship I had. Ginny was the closest thing I had to a friend.