“She has had a runny nose.”
I head into the tiny kitchen. It’s barely big enough to move around freely in, but I somehow manage to create meals in it. I open the small fridge and pull out the peanut butter sandwich I made this morning. I take a bite. Penny reaches for it. “No, baby girl, you could be allergic.” I put her down and get her something more baby friendly, then I pad to my room to kick off my shoes.
There’s a bundle of mail on the bed. I reach down, flicking through it. I come across a pile of bills and my chest clenches. As I open them, I add them up in my head. Three weeks worth of wages, at least. That would be if we didn’t take money to live. We’re falling behind, and right now I don’t have any idea how I’m going to fix that.
How did I go from having it all to having nothing?
Sure, I worked hard at my old job to survive, but this? I’d thought it would be easier. When we moved towns, I figured I could just get a job and we would be fine. Then I found out I was pregnant. There were also no jobs in my field here, being that we no longer live in a city, so jobs in my line of work are scarce. Any savings I had quickly went into bills and debts, as well as care for my mother so I could work.
Soon, I found myself waitressing out of desperation, too proud to go back to him. Nothing could ever lead me back there. I gave up everything. Getting to know my father. My brothers. The whole lot. I just walked out. Candy and Dusty are the only people who know where I am, and they swore they’d never tell.
They didn’t.
He never came.
Every time I think of him, something bitter twists in my heart. I lived through the hurt. For months I was numb. Emotionless. Broken. I cried, I stopped eating, I suffered, and it took a long while to pick myself up. Even now, there’s an emptiness about me. Like I’m not there. I wonder if I’ll ever come back.
Penny appears in the doorway, smiling at me.
“Hi baby,” I croon.
She pulls herself up on the side of my bed. She’s not quite walking, but she’s getting around well. I lean down and kiss her head. Things have been so hard for us, but she’s a truly happy baby. There’s nothing about her that’s not bright and beautiful. If it weren’t for her, I’m not sure how I would have coped.
“Katia?” my mom calls.
“Yeah?”
“Ah, honey, you have a visitor.”
A visitor? Who would be visiting me? I have no friends. I lift Penny into my arms and walk down the hall. When I step into the living area, I gasp. Pain stabs through my heart as I take in my best friend. Dusty stands beside Mom, his face twisted in an emotion I really can’t read. Tears spill over and I rasp, “Dusty.”
“Jesus, Katia.”
I place Penny down and rush towards him. I throw my arms around his body. He holds me tightly, squeezing until it hurts but I don’t care. God, I’ve missed him. So much.
“What’s . . . what is this?”
I pull back, swiping my tears. Dusty hasn’t changed, not a bit. He looks just as gorgeous as he did the day I left. He’s wearing a grey sweater and a pair of black jeans. His hair is messy on his head. He runs a fingertip down my cheek and I struggle to fight back the breakdown threatening to erupt.
“This is where I live.”
He shakes his head. “No. You . . . no . . .”
Dusty knew where I was, but he had no idea of my living conditions. No one did. I don’t need pity. People have it so much worse. Some don’t even have a home. I can hardly complain; I have a roof over my head. I had enough savings to get us through for a while, but after Penny things got harder. I’m making it work, just barely, but I am.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
His eyes flick to Penny. “Oh God . . . she’s . . .”
Dusty knows about Penny, but because of his job, he’s not yet had the chance to meet her. He doesn’t get a lot of time off, so it surprises me he’s here now. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve needed him so desperately.
“Just like him,” I finish.
He nods, turning back to me. His eyes scan over my Mom, and then he says, “Can I have a word with Katia?”
“Of course,” Mom says, wheeling towards Penny.
I step outside the apartment and turn to Dusty. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“You lied to me, Katia.”
“I didn’t lie, Dusty. I just didn’t tell you about it.”
“You said you were okay,” he cries.
“I am,” I whisper, reaching out and taking his hand.
His sad expression causes my heart to twist. This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. “How bad is it?” he asks.
“It’s fine.”
“God damn it, I’m your best friend, now tell me how fucking bad it is.”
I flinch.
He reaches out, stroking a finger down my cheek. “Please, honey.”
“It’s bad,” I whisper, lowering my eyes to the ground. “We have no money . . . I can barely afford to feed us.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“I have no other choice.”
“Yes, you do. You don’t have to do this.”
I jerk my head up and glare at him. “What do you think I can do?”
“You have us; you have your dad . . .”
My heart aches, an unfamiliar sensation travelling through my body. My father. A man I abandoned without getting to know. I have no choice. I know this.