Waiting for Daybreak (3 page)
Her mother’s eyes flew open. “Oh, sweetie, you’re home.” She threw her arms around Paige and squeezed tight. The cherry-almond scent of her Jergens lotion brought back a wave of happy memories so strong that Paige had to swallow back the tears.
“I wasn’t expecting you this early.”
“Really?”
“Let me guess, your father called you with the news and you got all upset and left work early. That’s why I wasn’t planning to tell you until later.” She cut a hard look at her husband, who was leaning against the nearest oak.
He folded his arms across his chest. “I did no such thing. I said I wouldn’t, and I didn’t. I thought you were—”
“Mom, he didn’t call. It’s seven o’clock, I’ve been off work for almost two hours.”
“Oh dear, the time must have gotten away from me.”
A cold wind blew, causing the tree limbs above them to bend with the force. The sound of a crow’s
caw
came from nearby as it searched for something to eat in the bleak landscape of late winter.
Paige reached over and held her mother’s hand. “I’m just glad I’m here now.”
Her mother looked into the tree above them. “Do you remember when we used to have a swing on that limb?”
“Yes, Daddy spent hours getting it set up just right.”
“You and I would spend hours out here. I can still see your hair flying behind you—no wonder it was always so stringy when you were a kid. You would sing that song about the daring young man on the flying trapeze at the top of your lungs, swinging so high you’d sometimes get caught up in the branches. I’d sit right here on this bench, and knit, and read, and sing right along with you.”
The limb above had two smooth places, its bark stripped away by the ropes once tied there. If friction and pressure could wear down a giant tree, what chance did Paige and her family stand? “That was a long time ago.”
“Yes, it was. But it doesn’t seem like it’s been any time at all, it just moves too fast.” Her mother ran her hand down the length of Paige’s hair. “Who would have thought that stringy-haired kid would grow into such a beautiful young woman?” She covered Paige’s hand with her own and squeezed. “Oh, honey . . . we all knew this would happen.”
“Did we?” Paige whispered.
“Of course we did.” Her mother’s tone sounded as crisp and clear as if she were announcing a planned trip to the market. “That’s part of the fun of being ‘treatable not curable.’ ”
“I fully expect your doctor to call first thing Monday morning, having found the perfect clinical trial that will put you in remission and keep you in remission.”
Her mother looked at her father. “I bet you didn’t tell her that other part, right?”
“What other part?” Paige looked at her father.
He shrugged in response. “Doesn’t matter.”
“What other part, Mom?”
“A lot of clinical trials aren’t covered by insurance, since they are considered experimental. Your father and I don’t have extra money to be throwing around, looking for some miracle cure that doesn’t even exist.”
“I can help.”
Her father shook his head. Her mother wouldn’t hear of it. But Paige insisted and insisted that she’d do anything for them, and by the time dinner was ready they’d both agreed.
Now she’d just have to figure out a way to find the money they needed.
Clarissa stood behind the counter of the pharmacy in this place that she hated and wondered how she got into this. She knew the answer full well, and it all began on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life. Graduation day.
She still remembered walking across the platform, shaking the dean’s hand. It’s funny, she could still see the sheen of sweat on the former senator’s bald head as he droned on and on with all the usual “go forth and conquer” rah-rah. She could still smell the tang of whiskey on her father’s breath as he announced his engagement to Becky.
Granddad’s voice was the only sound she still heard clearly. “Well done. Mighty proud of you, young lady.” This was as high as the praise came from Granddad; Clarissa accepted it for the gift it was. He shook her hand and smiled. “I’ve got some good news.”
“Really? What?” She had known—or at least thought she knew—what was coming here. She knew her grandfather had been spending lots of time with Milton Parrish, and if anyone could talk someone into selling a franchise, it was her grandfather.
“We’re going to put a pharmacy in the theater we bought in Shoal Creek.”
“A theater? Shoal Creek?” Several heads turned in their direction, and Clarissa knew her voice had risen above the crowd.
“It’s a small town about an hour south of Nashville. Milton Parrish and I have been talking. We agree that Shoal Creek will be a great place for you to get started, you know, get your feet wet in a small stream before you try surfing the ocean. The theater has such beautiful architecture; I know you’ll love the building.”
“A Parrish Apothecary franchise, in Shoal Creek? What about the Lancaster Building?”
“Not a Parrish Apothecary, exactly. We’re going to name it Richardson Apothecary, I’ll own seventy-five percent, Milton is buying twenty-five percent interest. You’ll have the same buying contract with the drug companies that his apothecaries do, this one just won’t be so high-end—it will cater more to the small-town everyman. It’s something he’d been wanting to try anyway, this presented the perfect opportunity. If it succeeds, he plans to launch several more stores under the Richardson Apothecary name, all falling under the umbrella of his franchise.”
“But I just bought a condo in Nashville. I was planning to open a
Parrish Apothecary
in the
Lancaster Building
as soon as I’ve worked off my intern hours.”
“Don’t worry, I still own the Lancaster Building, it’s not going anywhere. I’ve extended the current tenant’s lease by eighteen months. In the meantime, you’ll work off your six months of intern hours in Nashville as planned, then you’ll commute an hour to your new store in Shoal Creek. Lots of people drive longer than that each day. And you
will
open a Parrish Apothecary—if you work hard and prove yourself. Milton says if you can make the Shoal Creek location a success within a year, he’ll sell you exclusive franchise rights for Nashville, maybe even all of Tennessee. I think that’s a fair deal. Don’t you?”
“I . . . guess so.” Clarissa hugged her grandfather, trying to be truly grateful. He was building her a pharmacy, she knew that it was more than most of her classmates would receive. But . . . it wasn’t what she wanted. “Thank you so much.” She could only picture what the city of Shoal Creek would be like. Away from her friends, no support of any kind. Yet she would do what she always did, work hard and hope to earn her family’s approval.
And that’s just what she’d spent these last months trying to do. Now as she watched her grandfather walk down the aisle of the pharmacy, she found herself hoping once again. Hoping maybe this would be the day.
He walked back into the dispensing area. “How’s your day been?”
“Fine. Good. We’re getting a little busier every day.”
“That’s what I like to hear. We want to do everything in our power to make this place a success, don’t we?”
Make it a success at least long enough to get me out of this place.
“Yes, we do.”
“Do you have the reports ready for me?”
“Back there on the desk.”
He went to the desk along the back wall and began to pore over the financial reports from her first three months of business. His mouth tightened at every line. “I can’t believe you’re still losing money at this rate, I thought you’d have a much better customer base by now.”
“People stick with what they’re used to. I told you up front it would be nearly impossible to do anything better than break even by the end of the year. Do you believe me now?”
Her grandfather shook his head. “You have to do what it takes to bring people here to shop. Make them see that it is worth the drive to the town square because they’ll get much better service here. Milton’s apothecary chain is so famous for its customer-oriented service that people don’t care that they are paying more for their medicine.”
“Parrish Apothecary has locations in Beverly Hills, Los Gatos, and Manhattan. The people there don’t care if they’re paying more, because twenty extra dollars doesn’t mean a thing to them. This is Shoal Creek, Tennessee. The people here work in factories, they farm, they make their own clothes. Customer service hoopla doesn’t mean anything here, a low price is the only thing that matters.”
“Customer service matters to everyone. I think you should hire some more help. It would make things less pressured, more friendly.”
“I’ve got a technician for back here and a clerk out front. That’s more than I can afford.”
“How many hours you working a week?”
“Sixty, seventy sometimes. But that’s why I’m telling you, Granddad, I’m doing everything humanly possible in here. It’s not working yet, but we do move closer every month.”
He looked at the numbers again. “I’d really like to see you make some great efforts in projecting a more friendly, small-town image. That’s what’ll bring the people in.”
How dare he tell her how to run a pharmacy. He’d hardly stepped foot in one. Even when Grandma was sick, he always sent Clarissa to pick up her meds.
Funny, she could still see Felicia’s knowing expression when she handed her the prescription blank, the way she walked with complete confidence, the way she spoke as if she had all the answers. Clarissa had known then that she wanted to be a pharmacist, to be someone as smart and assured as that. And here she was. But something wasn’t working the way it was supposed to.
“I’m telling you, it’s going to take more time.”
“Well, we don’t have it, as you know. Milton Parrish has given us until the end of this year to make this place work. As if that’s not enough, now I’ve got your father pestering me because that new wife of his wants to put a yoga studio in the Lancaster Building.”
“A what?”
“Yoga studio. He says that since that part of town is considered chic right now, it would be a surefire hit.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him you were working hard down here and I would wait until the end of the year to decide. When the current tenant’s lease is up, I’ll give the new lease to the person most deserving.”
Clarissa looked at her grandfather and wondered what exactly she had to do to be deserving in his eyes. Whatever it was, she didn’t think she’d found it yet.
Monday afternoon, Paige sat at the kitchen table listening to her parents’ end of the phone conversation. How she wished they had a third extension. She wanted to take the phone from her father’s hands—after all, she was the trained medical professional here. She should be the one talking to the doctor. But she knew that was not the way her parents wanted it. They wanted to run their own lives.
Finally, they hung up. “Well?”
“There is a clinical trial he thinks she would be a good candidate for. It’s happening in Houston, at M. D. Anderson Cancer Center. It involves a stem cell transplant, some radiation, I don’t know. So far, there have been eight other patients with your mother’s kind of lymphoma to go through it. Five of them have done real well, the other three, well . . . I guess they were sort of like us, they didn’t have much to lose.”
“So, what’s the next step, looking for a donor match?”
“Your aunt Opal’s already won the donor lottery. They tested her a while back, thinking we might need a transplant at some point. For some reason siblings are better than husbands or daughters. That woman is so competitive, she even wins blood-typing contests.”
“Well, I won’t begrudge her this victory if she can help Mom.
When do we get started?”
“We don’t,” her mother said. “We can’t afford it, so there’s no use thinking about it.”
“How do we know?”
“There’s already been some conversation between the hospital and the insurance company. They’ve apparently convinced them to cover a portion of it, but it’ll still be about twenty thousand dollars out of pocket. They want her to fly in next Monday for some preliminary tests. I, for one, think she should go.”
Twenty thousand dollars.
Paige thought about the raise that she didn’t get. She thought about the small nest egg she’d put away for a house someday. Still, she would do without food and shelter if that’s what it took to get her mother treatment.
“They said we’d be in Houston for almost four months. We can’t leave the house alone that long, not to mention poor Dusty.” Her mother reached down to scratch Dusty’s waiting chin.
“What if I moved in here? I could take care of the house and Dusty, and I’d still be in commuting distance to work.”
Okay, it
would be a really long commute, but doable.
“It will be good for me to be living here with the two of you, for when you need . . .” Paige stopped the sentence, but it was too late to stop the thought. She affected a bright voice and tried to undo some of the damage.“ My lease is up in a month anyway. I was going to renew, but now I can just pay you guys rent instead.”
“Rent?” Her father looked positively scandalized.
“Daddy, I’d rather pay for a whole house than half of a tiny apartment somewhere.”
“Most people pay someone to house-sit for them, they don’t have the house sitter pay them rent. Especially not their own daughter.”
The doorbell rang. Paige jumped to her feet, more because she needed to move than she cared who was at the door.
The man standing on the front porch had a couple of days’ growth on his face and wore frayed jeans and a T-shirt that said
Jackson Plumbing.
He smiled and said, “Evening, beautiful.”
She tightened her grip on the door handle in case she needed to slam it shut in a hurry. “Can I help you?”
“I talked to Norman this morning, told him I’d be by for a look-see.”
“A look-see?”
“Well, you know, don’t want to buy anything sight unseen.” He winked at her and snorted what she supposed was meant as a laugh.
“What, exactly, are you planning to buy?”
