Page 50 of Scrooge

“But I can’t afford that,” Haylee says, wide-eyed, and I ignore her statement as I hit a few buttons on my cell.

“Dr. Shallow’s office,” a female voice says over the speakerphone.

“This is Alexander Jackson. I need Dr. Shallow at the admissions at Presbyterian. I am heading there now.”

“I will alert him, and he will meet you there. Shall I organize the room?” the woman asks. Her friendly, calm, yet professional tone is one I pay very handsomely for with my annual contributions to her boss’ medical research and clinics which ensures me his immediate attention should I need it.

“Yes. We will need it for a while,” I tell her, my eyes flicking to Deloris in the back seat, seeing her lying back on my soft leather seats, looking out the window.

“Of course, sir,” she says, and I end the call.

“Who was that?” Haylee asks, looking at me with a furrowed brow.

“My doctor’s office,” I tell her simply.

“I hate doctors,” Deloris pipes up from the back seat.

“What room? What’s happening?” Haylee asks, sounding as unsure as she looks.

“Let me take care of it,” I tell her as I pull into the special section of the hospital reserved for people like me, and a medical team rushes out. Taking her hand in mine, she nods, letting me take care of everything without any more questions.

Her trust in me means more than I ever thought it could.

22

HAYLEE

Iwatch the lights of the city outskirts, exhaustion nipping at my body.

“You alright?” Alex asks from beside me. His car is so warm and cozy, and with the snow still falling outside, the ground now coated white, I feel secure and safe after a whirlwind afternoon.

“Yeah. I’m just so glad we found her,” I tell him, my eyes glued to the streets, wondering how people even survive out here in this weather. “Thank you, Alex, really, for everything.” He looks straight ahead, concentrating on the road, but I know he hears me.

Today was so busy that I am only just coming to terms with everything that happened. Us arriving at the shelter, Alex bundling Deloris into his car and taking us all to the hospital. But not just any hospital, the private VIP entrance, the one that celebrities and high-profile people access, where his personal doctor was waiting for us. Deloris and I were in so much shock when we arrived, we both walked inside willingly, mouths agape, following the kind nurses and doing everything we were told to.

She’s now in a private room, on antibiotics for an infection, as well as fluids due to dehydration caused by influenza. She should be there for about a week. But she’s bathed, with new clothes, being fed and catching up on sleep. All in all, she’ll be walking out of there feeling like a new woman.

“I think Deloris will be well looked after,” he says, nodding to himself.

“That is an understatement. The fact that she can get chocolate pudding anytime she wants just by hitting the call button will make her day. I think those nurses have no idea who they are dealing with.” I huff a laugh, knowing that Deloris will be safe, warm, and well-fed for a while, all thanks to the man next to me.

“I had no idea people lived like that.” The words are spoken quietly; he seems deep in thought as he rubs his lower lip.

“I guess unless you are around it, you are oblivious. Most people wouldn’t understand the living situations of others until they see it.”

“What happened to Deloris that she ended up where she is?” he asks, and I take a breath, touched and impressed he wants to know.

“She married young. She was in love, she told me, couldn’t wait to marry the guy, and start living with him. But turns out, he wasn’t so nice behind closed doors. He used to beat her and push her around. She didn’t have a job, wanted to become a housewife, but he drank a lot, to the point he drank away all their money, and then he up and left her. She had nothing. Her family was embarrassed that she didn’t make her marriage work and wasn’t there for her. So, she had no one. No money. No job. No shelter. Turned to the streets and has been there ever since.” I give him the shortened version; he doesn’t need the full details.

“She couldn’t get a job?” he asks, glancing at me for the first time, his expression one of confusion, yet trying to understand. So I delve into her story a little more.

“She had nothing, really, apart from the clothes on her back. She had no place to live, where she could shower and dress for interviews. Had no support. She tried to get some money to turn things around. Unfortunately, she attempted stealing and got caught, and then with no other choice, turned to prostitution for a short time, hoping that it may get her the funds she needed to get herself out of the situation she was in. But it didn’t. She was robbed, beaten, assaulted. I think after that, she totally broke and decided to live solo on the streets, and that was that.”

“Jesus,” Alex murmurs, a wave of emotions probably running through him from the tone of his voice. I feel the same sadness for her.

“Yeah. She never really had a chance,” I whisper just as he pulls up to my house and cuts the engine.

The lights shine from behind the curtained windows, my family all waiting for me. “Let’s get you inside,” he says, jumping out of the car, and he quickly walks around to my door and opens it for me. Yet another thing my ex never did, and every time Alex does, I swoon a little more.

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