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“Nonsense, dear, I’ll be fine,” she says.

“Her insurance won’t cover any more days, so unless you’re able to pay out of pocket there’s not much I can do,” Dr. Frederick says. He thinks for a few minutes before continuing. "She still needs a lot of help getting around though, and we are considering physical therapy, but her insurance said it won't pay for it, even though it’s a side effect of the aneurysm." He shakes his head and then lets out a long breath. "We have this issue often. Especially when it comes to caring for the elderly."

"Elderly? I thought we had a good thing going here, Dr. Frederick," Grandma says as she reaches for his sleeve. "And now you're calling me elderly?"

Dr. Frederick laughs as he pats my grandmother's hand on his sleeve.

“You and I both know that age is just a number,” he says.

"Can I speak to you in the hall, Dr. Frederick?" I ask.

I step into the hallway while Dr. Frederick goes over meal options for the day with my grandmother. Once he’s done, he steps out and joins me.

"I understand your concerns," he says. “If it were up to me I would keep her here for at least another couple of days, but I know how expensive hospital stays are. I’ll have someone reach out to her insurance company and see if they'll cover inpatient care at a rehab facility so that she can get that physical therapy. Her legs atrophied some from her stay here. Your grandmother tells me that you’re supporting her. I know you work a lot of hours to make ends meet, so I’ll see what I can do.”

"Yeah, Grandma can be chatty."

"But that's good. Means that she's healing. But right now she is a fall risk. If I can get her into the rehab facility, is there any way that you would be able to pay something towards it? I'm asking in case insurance will cover it at all. My understanding is that her insurance might pay 80%."

Alex’s offer for $20,000 pops into my head again. I need the money. Now more than ever. That money will help Grandma get the help that she needs.

"I might be able to get the money," I say. "Just please do what you can to help her.

Three Days Later

It’s the day of the Carnival Masquerade Ball, and I’m nervous as hell. Grandma has been placed in a rehab facility that isn’t as convenient to get to as the hospital, but they seem very nice, and the place is clean. In just the couple of days that she’s been there she’s been making good progress.

I stop in front of the hotel Alex and I are meeting at. This is it. If I have any reservations, it’s too late. No matter what happens, I’m doing this for my grandmother.

As I approach the room I hear music and the laughter of several people. I knock on the door and a beautiful dark-skinned woman with long braids yanks the door open, surprising me.

“Ahhh, there she is,” she says, her voice thick with an accent I don’t recognize. “Come in, come in, let me see you.” She takes my hand and spins me around. “Jerry! Get over here. Look at what we have to work with today.”

I feel self-conscious so I pull my hand away and fold my arms over my chest.

“Oh, no no, Carina, you misunderstand. You’re a beauty! Mr. Alex didn’t tell us anything about you.”

“Oh girl, you have no idea how worried I was coming here. I’m Jerry, and this is Nakia.” Jerry has a thick southern accent and short blonde hair “I’ll be doing your makeup, and Nakia has so many dresses with her you’ll feel like Barbie.”

“Yes! That’s who she reminds me of. But not this PC modern Barbie,” Nakia says. “The Barbie that you and I grew up with. The one with the tits and ass.”

“Oh good lord, I miss my old Barbies. Did you ever play with Barbies when you were a kid, Carina?”

“Of course. I always wanted the Dream House though, never got it.”

“Are you two talking about Barbies again?” An older man steps out from an adjoining room. He’s short, with tanned skin, and platinum hair. He has bright pink lipstick on his lips. As soon as Jerry and Nakia see him they begin to laugh. “Oh what did you two do now?” He lets out an annoyed sigh as he enters the bathroom. “You bitches need to stop.” He swipes at the lipstick and grunts as it smears. “Just remember, you trust me to color your hair.”

“Just ignore him,” Nakia says. “Sometimes Tom gets a little grumpy.”

Nakia pulls me into the adjoining room, where several dresses are hanging. She swats at a couple of them until she reaches an ivory gown with embroidered flowers along the hem, and rhinestones stitched into the fabric.

“This,” she says as she fluffs the skirt out, “was made for you. No one else can wear it. I can guarantee it’ll be a perfect fit.” She snaps her fingers before she starts grabbing the other dresses and hanging them in a box. “They don’t even deserve to be in your presence.”

Jerry comes up behind me and whispers, “She’s talking to the dresses. Don’t worry, she’ll get back to you soon. Come with me.”

I follow Jerry into the bathroom where Tom has set up several bowls and hair color bottles. “We’re going to give your hair a little boost. A little ka-pow!” he says.

For the next three hours, Nakia, Jerry, and Tom work their magic. When they’re done I almost don’t recognize myself in the mirror.

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