Page 81 of Still Bruised
“Fortunately for me, I wouldn’t have listened to him even if he had called me.”
Foster perked up. “When I didn’t hear back from you, I assumed your connection to him might’ve kicked me out of the running.”
“I said I knew your father-in-law. Never said I liked him,” Bash said.
Foster fought a smile.
“Sorry it took so long, but we’d love to have you join the team. If you’re still interested, that is.”
“I am sir,” Foster replied, fighting a broad grin.
“Great. How about you come in on Monday, and we can nail everything down?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Spears. What time would you like me there?”
“Let’s say ten. Come on up to meet with me and we can discuss the particulars—then take you on over to HR to fill out all that pesky paperwork… and you can call me Bash, by the way. Don’t make me feel any older than I already do.”
Foster laughed. “Sounds great. I’ll see you Monday.”
After hanging up, Foster zipped down the apartment stairs and rushed to the back door of his parents’ home. He found them both in the dining room, working on a puzzle.
His mother looked up when she noticed him watching them. “Well, I like that smile you’re wearing today.”
“I’ve got news to go along with it. I got the job at Spears and Walker.”
His mom squealed. She jumped up and gave him a big hug.
“Congratulations, kiddo,” his dad said, turning to him with a huge lopsided smile.
“That’s the one in Manhattan, right?” his mother asked.
Foster nodded.
“So you’re going to stay close to us?”
Foster leaned back and smiled down at her. “I’ll be staying close.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Best news I’ve had in a long, long time.” She hugged him again. “Maybe you should just stay here. In the apartment?”
Foster wanted to be close, but notthatclose. He needed a little distance and privacy, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave just yet. “For now, that’s fine, but maybe not long-term. At the very least, maybe I can start paying you rent now?”
They’d refused his offer when he’d first returned, no matter how much he told them he was financially okay. He’d been leaving cash in his mother’s office desk drawer for weeks, but nothing had been said. He wasn’t even sure she’d found it yet.
“Nope. I won’t take a single penny,” his mother said.
“Then I should move out so you could rent it to someone youwilltake money from.”
“Oh stop,” his mother said before wandering into the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner? We need to celebrate this great news.”
Foster followed her into the kitchen and hopefully out of his dad’s earshot. Lowering his voice, he leaned closer to her. “You change the subject every time I bring up finances.”
“Because they’re none of your concern,” his mother said, her lips going into a thin line.
“Mom… I’m not trying to pry but…but I realize Dad’s stroke likely racked up a lot of medical debt.”
“We had good insurance,” his mother said.
“Insurance doesn’t cover everything. Between his extended hospital stay, the therapies, the medications, I know your portion wasn’t small.”
