G is for Gerry (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

Over the next couple of days, we hung around the house, went on hikes, and went to dinner a couple of times. Mom insisted that she cook at least one big meal for us, so on Wednesday, we had a massive spread that could have fed an army. I didn’t know how she did it, since I was pretty sure I didn’t even have the kitchen equipment necessary to make half that stuff, but she was resourceful. And on Thursday morning, I noticed that when she sent Hank out to grab some groceries she also apparently sent him with a list of various other things that she was leaving behind. I was suddenly in possession of a couple new mixing bowls, measuring cups and spoons and an apron that said “At Least I Tried” on the front.

A few days of joy of having them around came to an end that Friday. I helped Hank load the car. And then we sat around hugging and talking about all the plans they had for the next couple weeks, so I would know how to reach them. As they pulled away, I felt a clutch in my heart but tried to hold back tears. I would see them again. If nothing else, Lana was talking about how she loved the mountains so much that she might try to get Hank to buy a small cabin there for them to have getaways in.

When I was finally alone again, tooling around my house and debating going up to the office again before it closed, I thought about what Mom had said about Malia. It had been kicking around in my brain since she said it, but I wasn’t about to act on it. No matter how much a part of me wanted to.

13

MALIA

“Well, that will make things easier,” I muttered to myself through a grin as I read the email.

I read it again and again to make sure I understood it and wasn’t working myself up. It seemed too good to be true, but there it was in plain English. I had a sponsor.

Technically, getting sponsorships through the platform would mean a bunch of loops I had to jump through and allow them to get part of it. But this was a workaround, allowing me to sample a product, and then if I liked it, I could advertise for them in my videos. It was a great deal, even if it was only a little bit of money and some free merch. It meant I was starting down the road to being successful, and maybe even having a revenue stream that would keep me afloat without dipping into my settlement money.

The settlement hung over my head a lot. It was a large amount of money, and while I had already invested part of it in bonds, most of it was in a savings account. I put enough in a checking account that I could pay for my insurance premiums and anything I would need for the move to Dee’s and to help out with her bills for a bit while I was there.

But Dee didn’t want my money and was vociferous about it. She wanted it to be clear to me that she was taking me in because I was her sister and not because I could pay for her rent for the next ten years in one payment. It left me trying to find alternative ways of paying her back, and I had a big one planned for Christmas. But that was a bit away.

Besides all that, the settlement money made me feel queasy. It was a bunch of cash, sure, and that was nice and all. But it represented what, apparently, my leg and other trauma was worth. That bugged me. How could anyone put a price tag on the mental anguish I went through, not just with the crash and the amputation, but the fight to get any compensation at all? It seemed so arbitrary that a number was assigned to all of that.

One day, I was told, I wouldn’t feel so weird about it. It would just become money that ensured my future, allowing me to settle myself the way that many people wouldn’t get a chance to do until much later in their life. The unspoken part of that was that I traded my leg for that opportunity. But I didn’t get a choice. My leg was gone anyway. According to the lawyers and my sister, at least I got something out of it that would help me get ahead financially.

I examined the payouts for the sponsorship and realized that just this first sponsorship was going to pay me more per video than the job at the fast-food place I had when I first turned sixteen. If I could string a couple of those together, I could be making pretty decent money. I couldn’t believe it.