Park Avenue Player by Vi Keeland
Chapter 9
Hollis – 12 years ago
“When did your mom get this? Is it real?”
Anna picked up a necklace from the kitchen counter. The piece of crap had an obviously fake diamond dangling from a rusty-looking chain.
I frowned. “No. My half-brother showed up at our door last night to sell it to my mother. Can you believe that shit?”
“Stephen? I didn’t realize you guys kept in touch with him after your parents got divorced.”
“We didn’t.”
Stephen was my father’s son with his first wife and a few years older than me. When my parents were married, he’d come visit once or twice a year. He was always trouble—smoking at eleven and sneaking out of the bedroom window in the middle of the night. And when my father walked out on my mother a week after her diagnosis, we never heard from either of them again. Good riddance to both, if you asked me.
“So he just stopped by out of the blue?”
I nodded. “And he brought his pregnant girlfriend with him. Claimed he was in the neighborhood and thought he’d stop by to see how we were doing. But then he gave my mother some sob story about how they’ve been living in shelters and really want to get an apartment to make a nice life for their baby. Somehow he managed to squeeze fifteen hundred bucks out of my mom. He gave her that piece of shit and told her the pawn shop appraised it for three grand, but he thought she’d like it so he gave her an opportunity to buy it first.”
Anna brought the necklace up to examine it closer. “Your mom had to know it wasn’t real.”
“Of course, she did. But you know how she is. She’ll help anyone. It’s her best quality and her worst. She was hooked the minute he had her feel the baby move in his crackhead girlfriend’s stomach.” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t even his kid she was carrying. He could’ve just rented some pregnant addict for an hour to come help con my mother out of cash.”
Anna sighed. “Your mom doesn’t have fifteen hundred dollars to give away anymore.”
“Of course not. But my father’s spawn doesn’t care about that. He’s selfish, just like his dear old dad. He didn’t even ask how my mom is feeling. I doubt he knows she’s been fighting cancer for six years or that she went back to work less than a year ago when she finally went into remission.”
“I’m sorry he showed up and did that to Rose. It makes me sad that people take advantage of her good nature.”
“Me too. So why don’t you come over here and cheer me up?”
Anna smiled. We’d been together for a long time now, but the way her face lit up at the thought of me putting my hands on her never grew old. She walked over and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Sorry. You’ll have to take a raincheck on that cheering up. I have to babysit in fifteen minutes.”
I pouted.
She laughed. “You’re adorable when you sulk.” Giving me a chaste kiss, she said, “Call me the second the mail comes, even if you don’t get anything today.”
“Okay.”
Anna had gotten her acceptance to UCLA yesterday, along with almost a full academic scholarship. We’d sent in our applications the same day, but I still hadn’t heard anything.
I walked her to the door and opened it, only to find the mailman approaching with a thick stack of mail in his hand. Anna grabbed it from him and ran to the table to start rifling through.
“Medical bill.” She tossed an envelope to the side.
“Medical bill.” She tossed a second envelope to the side.
“Medical bill.” She tossed another.
“Electric bill.” She tossed again.
On the fifth envelope, she froze. “UCLA! Oh my God. It’s here!” She held it out to me. “Open it! Open it!”
I shook my head. “You do it.”
She didn’t argue. She tore into the envelope and started to read. I held my breath. Both of us had the grades to get in—that wasn’t the problem. Neither of us had the money to go unless we got a lot of financial help.
Her eyes widened as she read. “Dear Mr. LaCroix, Congratulations on your acceptance to the University of California at Los Angeles. Attached please also find your National Letter of Intent, which details information on an athletic scholarship offered on behalf of the UCLA Bruins.” Anna tossed that top letter into the air, and her eyes scanned the next few pages. She jumped up and down. “You got a full ride, Hollis! A full ride for baseball!”
I snatched the papers from her hands. There was no way UCLA was offering me that. It seemed too good to be true. But sure enough, there it was in black and white. I looked up at her, bewildered. “Holy shit. We’re going to live in sunshine three hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
She beamed. “And live together. They have co-ed dorms!”
Jesus Christ. Could it get any better than that? Sunshine, my girl, a free ride, and my mom would hit the one-year mark on her remission in just three days. Eighteen months ago, I never thought we’d get here. I had to swallow a few times to force back some threatening tears. Anna had seen me pussy out enough times when my mom was sick. Plus, this wasn’t a time for crying. This was a time to celebrate.
“No more sneaking around to find a place to get you naked.” I smiled.
“And I can get a bird!”
I chuckled. “Free tuition and my dick whenever you want it, and you’re more excited about getting a bird?”
She shoved me. “Shut up. I’m excited about your dick, too.”
“Oh yeah?” I hooked an arm around her waist. “Show me how excited you are about my dick.”
She giggled. “I can’t. I’m going to be late for babysitting. I have to go.”
I groaned.
Anna kissed my lips softly. “I’ll make it up to you later. Congratulations, Hollis. Things are finally looking up for you.”
They are, aren’t they?
“Come back right after you’re done babysitting.”
“Okay. And don’t tell your mom without me. I want to see her face!”
“Alright.”
“Actually,” she said. “Why don’t we wait three days? We’re planning that little surprise party on her one-year remission anniversary. We can tell her then.”
I smiled. “Whatever makes you happy. As long as we celebrate in private tonight.”
***
Three days later, I was pretty damn anxious. I knew my mother worried about how we were going to pay for my college—even City College would be a stretch, with loans and both of us working. But she really wanted me to have the experience of going away.
I went out to the kitchen and found my mom making dinner. She had no idea we were having a bunch of people over to celebrate later.
“The mail just came. Nothing from UCLA.” Mom frowned. “Sorry.”
I felt a tiny bit guilty for lying to her. But I was looking forward to giving her the letter. Anna was going to bring over a box to put it in and some wrapping paper.
I shrugged. “They probably go through the applications alphabetically and Benson comes before LaCroix.”
She forced a smile. “I guess. I’m just so anxious.”
I watched my mom pull down some plates from the cabinet. She looked good. She’d gained some weight back, and her complexion had darkened to its naturally tanned color. She also looked happy again. Even while she cooked, she had a smile on her face. I guess after you go through everything she’d experienced with multiple rounds of chemo, you appreciate every moment.
“Why don’t you set the table? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
She handed me the plates, and I grabbed some utensils from the drawer and a few napkins from the holder. The phone rang as I was folding the napkins into triangles like Mom liked. She had the oven door open and a hot tray in her hands.
“I got it.”
“Thanks, honey.”
I grabbed the phone from the wall. “Talk to me.”
“Hello, may I speak to Mrs. LaCroix, please?” a man said.
“Hold on.” I covered the phone and lifted my chin. “It’s for you.”
“Can you find out who it is and tell them I’ll call them back?”
I moved my hands from the receiver. “She’s kind of busy right now. Who’s calling?”
“It’s Dr. Edmund.”
Her oncologist.My heart sank in my chest just hearing the name. I looked up at my mother. “Mom, it’s your doctor.”
Her smile wilted, but she tried to recover. Setting down the lasagna, she removed the oven mitts and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m sure he just wants to tell me about the checkup scans I had the other day.” She took the phone.
“Hi, Dr. Edmund.”
I watched her face while she listened over the next sixty seconds. The television constantly played some stupid insurance commercial that said “A one-minute phone call could change your life,” but that had always seemed ridiculous. Until now. Those seconds…the way her face changed…I knew. I knew life would never be the same. She didn’t even need to repeat what the doctor said on the phone when she hung up.
I went to her and pulled her into my arms. When the first tear fell, she tried to hide it. But I hugged her tighter.
“Don’t worry, Mom. We got this. You beat it before; we’ll beat it again. Together.”
***
I called the neighbors and Mom’s two friends from work to tell them not to come tonight. Mom had gone to lie down, and I’d put off calling Anna. I wasn’t looking forward to telling her, and she showed up early, before I could call, with a box and wrapping paper hidden in her backpack. I followed her to my room, where she took out the box. The words seemed to get stuck in my throat every time I went to speak.
Her voice was just so cheery, and I was about to ruin everything. It wasn’t easy to disappoint her.
“Where’s the letter? You’re a terrible wrapper. I’ll wrap it so it looks nice.” She walked over to my desk where it had been sitting facedown the last three days. “Where’d it go?”
When I didn’t answer, she looked back at me and realized something was off. “Hollis, where’s the letter?”
I stared at the floor. I just couldn’t get the words out.
“Hollis? Did you lose it or something?”
I shook my head.
“So then, where is it?”
My eyes lifted and met hers. Her big brown eyes were filled with excitement and happiness. Still unable to get the words out, I looked over at the wastepaper basket next to my bed. The crumpled-up letter sat all alone at the bottom.
Anna and I weren’t just a couple. We’d been best friends since kindergarten; she knew me better than anyone. She followed my line of sight, and then her face fell.
“What happened?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “The doctor called with her PET scan results.”
