Page 62 of The Mating Game
“Right,” she snorts. “Well…I told you that my dad had a stroke ten years back, right?”
“I remember.”
“Yeah, well. It was a rough time. The physical therapy and rehab he had to go through just to be able to get back to the eighty percent mobility he’s up to now was gruesome. The medical bills were ridiculous.” She reaches to rub at her neck. “It’s why I changed majors to take over the business. I knew how much it killed my dad to not be able to continue it, and I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Keep the business going and help out with the medical bills.”
“That’s really great of you, Tess,” I tell her honestly.
She shrugs. “Yeah, I mean…I was happy to do it. I love this business. I love what I do.”
“What did you want to be before you switched majors?”
“Hmm?” Her nose wrinkles. “Oh. I had some silly pipe dream about getting a degree in design. I thought I could sign on and help out my dad that way.”
“So either way, you always planned to help your dad.”
“I guess you could say that, yeah.”
I get the sense that she really admires her dad and, what’s more, that she really loves what she’s doing, continuing his business and watching it thrive.
“So why haven’t you told them about HGTV?”
Her face falls. “This last year…See, they put him on all sorts of medications after the stroke. He had AFib—that’s atrial fibrillation. Basically, it means that the upper chambers of your heart don’t squeeze right, so clots can form in your heart and move to your brain. That’s what caused the stroke. For a long time, his meds kept everything managed.”
“But this year…?”
“Apparently, his medications haven’t been doing what they should. He’s still in AFib even with them. So his heart rate stays irregular. He’s been having all sorts of fatigue and dizziness.”
“You said ‘apparently’…You didn’t know?”
She shakes her head. “They didn’t want to worry us, so they didn’t let us know until recently. The doctors want him to get a pacemaker put in; actually, they said it’s imperative that he does. They said that his life expectancy doesn’t look good without one, but…”
“But?”
“But his insurance isn’t great. Even with it, the damned thing will cost like twenty grand. They don’t have that kind of money. And the business is doing well, but…Idon’t have that kind of money lying around. I’m hoping if I can land this HGTV deal, the signing bonus will help cover the costs so we can move forward with the procedure.” Her lip trembles. “Ihaveto land this deal.”
I watch her expression crumple, and suddenly everything in mybody screams that I give her something,anythingto make her feel better. With that thought coursing through my body, I scoot closer to her on the bench under the water and gently wind an arm around her shoulders.
“Hey,” I offer. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve only seen you work for a few weeks, but you’re really great at it. They’d be stupid not to sign you on.”
I remain perfectly still when her head tilts to rest on my shoulder, a sigh escaping her. “I hope you’re right.”
“I usually am,” I deadpan.
That draws another grin out of her. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”
“I think it’s great what you do, Tess,” I tell her honestly, because in these few weeks I’ve known her, I’ve seen her exude passion for something as simple asfloor stainjust for the sake of making someone—me—happy, and that says more about her than anything else, I think. It’s clear she finds great joy in this, even more so in bringing joy to others through it. “And I think you’re fucking amazing at it.”
I hear the small catch in her breath, and I can’t help but wonder if anyone has ever told her that. I can’t say why the thought that I might be the first fills me with a sense of pride and satisfaction. Like in this small way, I’m taking care of her. It seems like Tess always makes sure to take care of everyoneelse—but does anyone ever really take care of her?
I find that lately…I like taking care of Tess a lot.
“I haven’t told them about what’s going on with me either,” she says quietly.
“Why not?”
“I guess…I don’t know. My mom has spent all this time taking care of my dad, and she’s the only one working now, and she’s always so stressed-out. I guess I’ve just gotten really good at being self-sufficient. It’s easier not to be a burden that way.”
“I don’t believe your family would think you’re a burden if you told them what’s going on,” I say. “Based on what you’ve told me.”
