Ridiculous, but still a fact.
She had to get caught up on her insurance claims. Already her next check was going to be a lot less than its usual amount thanks to how much time she’d spent with Stone rather than working.
She’d not done even half her usual number of claims.
She’d barely been maintaining her financial balancing act and this had tipped the scale.
No—spending time with Stone, not doing her work, being distracted from her work, that was what had tipped the scale.
She couldn’t afford to keep seeing him.
* * *
“How did your mother’s neurology appointment go today?”
Carly winced. She didn’t really want to think about how the appointment had gone.
Her mother was always exhausted after an appointment and had passed out in the car. Sleep had been a blessing while they’d waited at the pharmacy, and again after Carly had gotten her settled back into her bed.
Moments after which, Carly had had a good cry.
Or was that a bad cry?
Whatever, she’d sobbed for a few minutes. At Dr. Wilton’s recommendations. At the cost of her mother’s medication. At the fact that she had just enough money left to cover the house payment, car insurance, electric and water, and almost enough to cover Joyce’s salary.
But not quite.
She calculated how many claims she’d need to process over the next few nights to keep everything afloat. Actually, today was the last day of the next two-week pay period. Tonight’s claims had to be done. Every last one of them. Plus a few more. With no mistakes. She could do it.
If she could get the claims done, with the extra ones, she could just barely make Joyce’s salary. And if a single unexpected expense popped up, she’d sink.
But she wouldn’t let that happen. She’d made things work this long, had been doing just fine until Stone had stepped into the picture. Now, she just felt exhausted by it all.
Or maybe she was exhausted because after Stone had left the night before, she’d not been able to sleep. She’d kept reliving his coming to her room, his making love to her, the magic he’d spun. Over and over in her mind, she’d replayed his touches, his kisses.
Her mind had raced, making sleep impossible. So, she’d sat in her mother’s room and, as much as her distracted mind and body would allow, worked on insurance claims. She’d gotten very few done.
At some point after five a.m. she’d fallen asleep sitting in the chair and had awakened achy and stiff to her mother moaning and crying.
Caring for her mother in a demented state was bad enough; witnessing her in pain was something Carly could barely bear.
Dr. Wilton thought she should put her mother into a facility. No. Just no.
“It went,” she answered Stone’s question rather vaguely, reaching up and rubbing her tense neck muscles.
What else could she say? That her mother would likely sleep the rest of the evening and not wake until sometime after midnight, if then? That Carly wanted to crawl between her sheets and sleep for hours on end, too, but would instead sit up most of the night working on the insurance claims she hadn’t gotten done?
Insurance claims she had to process before going to work in the morning. She had to meet that quota. Not doing so wasn’t a choice.
Not if she wanted to pay Joyce.
Plus, she’d need to leave for work a little early to take the blood and urine Dr. Wilton wanted her to collect on her mother to the hospital lab in the morning and still be able to clock in on time.
A heaviness settled onto her shoulders, making her neck hurt worse than it already did from sleeping in the chair, transporting her mother, and the day’s stresses.
Stone had just arrived at her house, was unpacking the food he’d brought for their dinner, and putting hers in front of her, but she’d have to ask him to leave. Soon.
“That good, huh?”
Wishing she weren’t a Debbie Downer, especially considering the night before, what they’d shared, which seemed like months ago instead of mere hours, she shrugged. “He wants to see Momma back in a week.”
Taking a bite of his Greek salad with grilled chicken, Stone studied her. “Did he say why?”
“To go over labs. Re-evaluate how she’s responding to a medication he gave her a new dose of today.” She told him the name of the new Parkinson’s drug Dr. Wilton had put her mother on. She started to tell him how much the medication had cost, but didn’t due to not wanting him to think her petty. Her mother’s health was the most important thing.
“Routine visit, then?”
Dr. Wilton didn’t routinely make Carly bring her mother in again that quickly. He knew how difficult it was transporting her. Carly had seen the concern in his eyes when he’d been examining her mother. She’d heard the concern in his voice as he’d retested her mini-mental status exam and her number had been three points lower than her test just a few months prior.