Page 112 of Saved By My Buyers

Dolly drops to her knees beside Bee as I put the ice cream in the freezer so it won’t melt.

“Hey,” she whispers, gently playing with Bee’s hair. “Wake up, you have to tell me something.”

“What? Oh, hi, baby,” Bee says, turning to face her. “There’s something I need to tell you?”

The repeated question back to her is adorable, and I hide a smile as I wait.

“Mmhmm. Are you hungry or do you want lemon cake and snuggles?” Dolly asks very seriously.

“Lemon cake,” Bee says immediately, pouting. “Today sucked.”

Tears are thick in her voice, and I blink rapidly, because the pain is palpable. I fucking hate when they’re hurting. Putting the chicken away, I plate the lemon cake with three forks. Why the fuck not?

“You’re the boss,” I tell her, coming back into the living room. “Want to talk about it?”

Bee moves so that she can allow Dolly and I to sit on either side of her, and picks up the fork to take a bite of the cake. Breathing deeply, she allows the flavors of the dessert to hit her taste buds.

I swear, I can see the dopamine hitting her system right now.

It’s sexy as fuck to watch her eat. I have this obsession with taking care of both of them. If sugar when they’re sad counts as self-care, then I endorse it.

“A woman called around two in the afternoon,” Bee says, leaning back as she recalls it. “I’d just returned from lunch, and I could hear water running in the background. She said her name was Nancy, and that she was having the best day. Nancy sounded almost too upbeat, which made warning bells ring in my head. I called my supervisor over, following the protocols.”

“What happened next?” Dolly asks softly.

“She said she went and bought herself roses, because her husband used to do it every year,” Bee says. “Nancy explains how her husband had died of cancer the year before, and how depressed she was.”

Fuck.

“We spoke a little about this, and she told me that she was okay,” Bee says, her voice cracking. Gasping, she shakes her head. “I asked her what she was doing, and she said today was the anniversary of his death. She said that she thought it would be harder than it was, but that it was okay… because she decided she was tired of missing him.”

“Oh no,” Dolly whispers, eyes wide.

“Nancy ate the entire contents of a bottle of Xanax that was prescribed to her by her family physician, and a handful of her husband’s hydrocodone before she called me,” Bee says, her gaze haunted.

“The water was the bath she was getting ready to take. There wasn’t any way I was going to be able to call an ambulance to get to her in time, and she tossed the phone away, as she told me that she was going to take one last bath before she met her husband. I was sobbing as I listened, knowing she was drowning peacefully. My supervisor sat there with me, because we couldn’t track the call, and we had no way to know where she was.”

“Nancy knew what she was doing,” Dolly says. “I think she wanted someone to know.”

“That’s what my supervisor said,” Bee says, tears spilling over. “I spoke with her in her office, and she made sure I was mostly okay before I went home.”

“That’s when you called me,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know not everyone is going to call wanting to be talked down,” Bee mumbles. “I’m having a hard time with it, so I have a therapy appointment tomorrow. I’m taking tomorrow off.”

“Good call,” Dolly agrees. “What you do is so important, but it takes a toll.”

The three of us sit and talk, eat cake, and silently hope Nancy is with her husband now. Just the way she wished for it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bronwyn

I’m spending today processing after that rough call. I’ve never had anyone phone in and kill themselves while I was speaking to them. People have hung up on me, but this was different.

I really think Nancy was relieved at the knowledge that she was going to end her life to see her husband, I just wish things had been different for her.

“Bowen, tell me what you think about this call is making you spiral?” Dr. Holly, my therapist asks.

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