Tate
I laid on the couch until the sun broke through the window behind me. Sleep had avoided me since getting back from the party and taking a long shower, but I wasn't surprised. I felt dirty, angry, and used. I'd done it to myself again, and I would do it a million more times.
"You up yet?" My mom walked out of her bedroom and stopped by the opening to the kitchen.
"Yeah. I didn't get much sleep." I sat up and ran my fingers through my short hair as a loud yawn escaped me. "You sleep okay?"
"I did." She coughed as she walked into the kitchen, and I cringed at the sound of it.
"Mom. You gotta have that cough checked out, for real. Sam said that it sounded like bronchitis." I readjusted myself and pulled on my t-shirt before walking into the small kitchen.
She was busy making coffee and seemed to be ignoring my request for her to see the doctor. There was no surprise there, either. She was just as hard-headed as I was.
"You want me to make you some eggs before you have to get off to school?" She looked over her shoulder and gave me a warm smile.
"Mom, you heard me. Get a doctor’s appointment today or have one of those doctors you work with listen to your lungs. They have those stethoscope things around their necks all the time. Tell them to use it."
"Stop worrying about me. I've survived a lot in my life. You want breakfast or what?" She handed me a cup of coffee and turned away to cough again.
"Yeah, but I'll cook. You sit down. I don't think you realize how bad that sounds." I let out the growl of frustration that I was hoping to hold in.
"Tate. I don't have the money to see a doctor, and those guys at the hospital aren't kind to me or anyone else that's not wearing a white coat and sticking their fingers up people's asses for a living. Okay?" She walked to the table and sat down before pressing her hands to her face. "And, I'm late on the rent."
"I'll pick up a few extra shifts. It's okay. We'll work it out." I sat my cup down and moved to stand behind her, rubbing her shoulders softly as my heart contracted in my chest. I needed to bring more home in terms of money, but balancing everything was getting to be too much.
"No. You're trying to get through school and manage your job. I'll figure things out. I just need you to understand why I'm not rushing to the doctor’s office. I'm sure it is bronchitis, but I'll beat it. I always do." She patted my hand. "Hurry up and make some eggs. You'll be late to your first class and then drive like a bat out of hell. That scares me more than the thought of losing this old house."
"You're not losing the house. School can take a back seat. I'll drop out and start again later next year when we're back on our feet." I squeezed her shoulders once more and moved to
the fridge to start pulling out stuff for breakfast. We had a few eggs left and some cheap bacon that burnt no matter how slow you cooked the stuff. It was sad, but I was used to it. Besides, anything was better than living on the streets.
"No, you won’t. The reason I'm in this situation is because I didn't go to school like you are. My mom and dad warned me a million times before they passed that I should go get my RN, but I just didn't listen." She let out a tired sigh that turned into a terrible hacking.
I stifled the fear welling up inside of me. She wasn't doing well, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn't make it. Outside of Sam, she was the only person I had in the world. "This isn't about a degree. Life's tough sometimes, and we're good people because of the shit we've been through. I stopped to help some rich girl last night with her car because I'm a nice person."
"Was she pretty?" My mother lifted her eyebrows and smirked.
"Yes. Very, but that's not why I was telling you the story. She was shocked by my kindness, by my willingness to help her out. Being good is free and more people should have to go through shit to come out on the other side better for it in the long run." I shrugged and cracked the eggs into a bowl. I was hungry enough to eat all five of them, but we didn't keep much food in the house. Two would have to do. Besides, Jerry always had a big box of donuts at the shop, and much to the other guy's dismay, his secretary Sharon would save me a handful of them for my afternoon shift.
"This is true. You're a good man, Tate. I'm very proud of you." She coughed again and stood up. "I'm going to take a shower."
"No breakfast?" I glanced over my shoulder after cracking the third egg in the bowl for her.
"Nope. Eat my egg this morning. I'm too doped up on cough syrup to enjoy it, anyway." She picked up her coffee and disappeared down the darkened hall.
Something had to give. I could keep living like this forever, but she couldn't. She was sick and needed care; she was lonely and needed a good man; she was everything to me, and I wasn't measuring up.
"I'll fix it. All of it." I swallowed my worry and forced myself to whistle while I finished making breakfast. Today was going to be a good day. A great day, actually. I needed it to be too much to give up hoping for it.
*
After a long ass day on campus, I took the long way to the shop and tried to enjoy the feeling of freedom I had on the bike. It was freezing outside and I was bundled up in three layers, but I was happy. Content.
My classes had been hard as fuck, which I loved. A good mental challenge was the best stimulation I could think of. Well, almost.
I pulled up to the shop and parked my bike outside next to a few of the other ones sitting under a large canopy. Jerry had finally relented and let a few of us build the tent-like structure to keep our bikes from getting covered in snow while we worked. Now, we just had to take turns brushing the snow off the top of the contraption.
The familiar smell of oil and mint rushed across my senses as I walked into the front door of the small two-room office Jerry kept.