“Any luck, Larry?” Leslie said over the phone, her fingers clenched around the device in hope and anticipation.
"I'm so sorry, Leslie," a voice rang out through the phone. "The gallery owner complained that your art was too avant-garde and not suitable for the theme of her art show, so she wouldn't bother showcasing any of them."
"Really, not even one?" she pressed on, clinging to the last string of hope she had left.
"Not even one. I'm so sorry. Look, I gotta go now. They need me back here."
She closed her eyes in disappointment and whispered, "It's okay. Thanks, Larry. Talk to you soon." She hung up shortly afterwards and sighed heavily, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the fourth time her art was rejected from being showcased in an art show. Disappointment had become a daily phenomenon for her ever since she received devastating news about her father's cancer three months ago. She stood up with her shoulders still slumped and smoothed out the non-existent crease from her pale blue gown, then walked briskly to the doctor's office where he was waiting for her.
"Good day to you, Miss Harrison."
"Hello, doctor. How is my dad's treatment going?"
"Oh, I should be asking you the same, Miss Harrison," the doctor said in a gentle yet firm voice. "You haven't been forthcoming with his bills, and this hospital runs on bills. We can't go further with his treatment without payment."
The tears she fought so hard to keep under control filled her eyes to the brim. "I'm trying, doctor. It's... it's hard, you know. I'm all he has and he's all I have. I don't have any relatives I can ask for the money, so please bear with me for a little while."
The doctor's face softened, and he said kindly, "I know, Miss Harrison, and I commend you for showing up for your dad like this. But this is a message directly from the hospital board. They already found out that I proceeded to treat your father on multiple occasions without proper payment being made, and they threatened to have me arrested for breaking the code of conduct of the hospital. My hands are tied here," he said and sighed sadly.
"It's okay, doctor. I understand you're just doing your duty," she said and wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffling softly. "I'll try my best to raise the money for his next treatment. Thank you so much for your kindness and for bending the rules of the hospital for my dad."
The doctor smiled fondly and said, "I mean, rules are meant to be broken, are they not?"
"Yes," she responded with a sad smile. "Yes, they are. I'll take your leave now." She rose and said goodbye before leaving his office.
---
Gregory Harrison's ward was located in ward 34A at the northwest side of the hospital. It was one of the top wards in the hospital, booked and dedicated to catering to the needs of the elites of New York. Leslie had spent almost all her life savings to secure him a spot here. Leslie walked briskly to her dad's ward, holding a plastic bag containing his favourite chicken soup from his favourite diner downtown. She reached the ward and stopped to look at her dad through the small oval glass of the door. The man that had been a strong pillar of support for her all her life was now a shadow of his former self, with sunken eyes and an even more sunken face. He lay there asleep and tired at the same time.
She entered inside quietly so as not to disturb him and placed the plastic bag on the table, switched on the humidifier, and reduced the temperature of the AC.
"Leslie, my girl," a weak voice sounded across the room.
"Dad," Leslie cried out softly and rushed in for a hug but stopped midway, fearing that she might squash him.
"What's wrong? Don't want to give your old guy a hug?" he asked quizzically.
"It's not that, Dad. I'm afraid I might crush you," she said softly, her eyes filled with love for the man.
"Oh, c'mon. A little huggy hug never hurt anyone. Now come over here before I come to you," he said in an amused tone.
"Fine," she said and rolled her eyes playfully at him while hugging him like her life depended on it.
He hugged her back with the same intensity and said in a grumpy voice, "We haven't seen each other much this week."
"I know, Dad, but it's you who is to be blamed. You're always sleeping anytime I come over," she said and pouted playfully.
"Ahh, that's right. You know what? I think we should blame the doctor for injecting me with so many sleeping pills. I'm sleepy 95% of the time now," he said, raising his voice in exasperation.
"Yes, yes, Dad. It's not your fault. Let's blame it on the doctor," she said with a genuine smile playing at her lips for the first time that day. She was always happy whenever she was with her dad despite the circumstances.
Her dad noticed and said brightly, "There's my happy girl. Always remain happy and not gloomy, okay? Dad's gonna be alright."
The pain, disappointment, and frustration she'd been holding back resurfaced, and she clung to her dad's emaciated body and sobbed loudly for the first time in months. "How can everything be okay, Dad? Just how?" she sobbed.
"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay, my dear. Let it all out," he said in his most gentle voice.
She sniffled loudly and narrated all the bad luck and frustrations she'd been encountering recently.
"It's going to be fine, my dear. Just calm down," he soothed.
She finally calmed down a little and continued, "The deadline for the treatment is in five days, Dad. I can't raise such an amount in so little time, and this treatment is essential for you so that we can take the next step towards your surgery. What can I do, Dad?" she yelled, feeling disgusted with herself for not being able to provide for her dad in his time of need.
A feminine voice tinged with a touch of smug satisfaction rang out, "I believe I can be of assistance.”
A tall, imposing woman dressed head to toe in designer clothes strutted into the ward like she owned the place. Glancing around the room, she scoffed in contempt as she took in the sight before her, sizing up the two people in the ward."Excuse me, what did you say?" Leslie asked, looking at her like she was speaking a foreign language. She glanced at her dad, and he shrugged, indicating that he had no clue who the lady was."I don't repeat myself very often, young lady, so I need you to listen carefully," she bit out. "I can be of assistance to you.""Look here, lady, I think you have the wrong ward—" Leslie's dad started to say but was interrupted by his daughter."Dad," Leslie said, "let me handle this, okay?" She spoke softly, patting his arm. She didn't want him getting worked up about anything at this point. She glanced back at the woman, who was still looking at them like they were a bunch of nobodies, and said in a firm and resolute tone, "Ma'am, if you have any issues to disc
Leslie got down from the bus absentmindedly and walked a short distance to her apartment building in Brownsville. This battered neighbourhood had provided a place for her and her father when they had nowhere else to go. Despite its high crime rate, it was where they called home."Hey, Les," a gruff voice sounded.She turned around and found Ted, a local and a chronic gambler who'd been friends with Leslie and her dad since they moved in."Hi, Ted. How's it going?" she said."I should be asking you that, hon. Tesla's been worried about you. She says you've lost too much weight, and now that I see you," he said, sizing her up from head to toe, "I think she's right."Leslie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm fine, Ted. I just want Dad to feel better soon.""He will. Don't worry, he definitely will," he said, patting her back firmly. "How about you come around tonight for dinner? Tesla's making those fried dough balls you like so much."If it was any other night, she would'
Eleanor Blackwood leaned back on her plush chair behind a huge lush teakwood table, glanced around her office that spoke of opulence and splendour, and sighed briefly. "Everything is going according to plan," she muttered.Footsteps echoed across the corridor, and a tall, strikingly handsome man walked in with a scowl etched on his face."You called for me, Mother?" Julian Blackwood said sharply, his voice impatient."Now, now, that's no way to talk to your mother, is it?" she replied, her face scrunching up in disapproval. "Anyways, sit down. Let's have some afternoon tea," she offered."I do not have time for this, Mother," he bit out. "I was about to seal a very important deal with the Pattersons when your incessant calls came in.""Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes. "The Pattersons can wait. Sit. Down. Now. I have something very important to talk to you about."Julian clenched and unclenched his fingers, drew out a chair, and took a seat, breathing in and out through his mout
"That'll be $15.35, ma'am," a somber voice said, snapping Leslie out of her thoughts. She looked up and saw the taxi driver still looking at her through the rearview mirror."Oh, right, sorry," she said and dug her fingers into her purse. She pulled out some money and gave it to the man. She alighted from the vehicle, took two suitcases out of the trunk, and stood in awe of the mansion before her. She felt overwhelmed and very small in this huge mansion."So this is Blackwood Manor," she muttered to no one in particular.A lady in a maid's uniform with an impassive face walked up to her and said respectfully, "Are you Leslie Harrison?"Leslie cleared her throat and responded, "Yes, I am," trying to fake a smile."Welcome to Blackwood Manor, madam. My name is Kris," the lady introduced. "Let me get that for you," she said, referring to the brown-colored suitcases. "Right this way. I've been waiting for you. I was sent to receive you," Kris said, pointing forward with her hand and guidi
“Ah yes, Phil, tell me,” Julian said over the phone to his personal assistant. A towel swung along his neck, his hair damp from the shower he had just taken after a gym session at the built-in gym the manor had.“They did what?” “I’m sorry, sir. I did the best I could to stop them, but after you left that day, the Pattersons felt insulted. They thought you left because they didn’t deserve your time or something like that.”“Shit,” Julian cussed. “I told them the reason why I— You know what, forget about it. Send the most expensive bouquet of flowers from NYC Fragrance with an apology letter. We can’t afford to lose this deal,” Julian said, pinching the bridge of his nose.“Okay, sir, but NYC Fragrance is the most popular flower company in New York. I’m not sure they have any more in stock at the moment.”“Do whatever it takes to make it happen, Phil. Money is not an issue. Make. It. Happen.”“Y-yes, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”Julian hung up after that and closed his eyes in fru
Leslie stepped away from the door, feeling that she'd overstepped her boundaries, shrugged, and continued with her tour. She passed several maids and bodyguards as she walked, but they all just bowed respectfully before her, as if they were afraid she'd lash out about something. She still felt uncomfortable about everyone bowing to her. "Maybe I can convince them to stop bowing to me like I'm a queen or something," she thought, putting that thought at the back of her mind and continuing her wandering. She reached a slightly ajar door on the floor below and took a peep inside. Unlike the rest of the mansion, this room had a manly touch to it, as if someone really spent a lot of time here. It even had a subtle, homely feel to it. She saw a portrait on the wall, and it all clicked—this was Julian's office. She was still very curious about this new husband of hers, so she walked in carefully. "I'll just look around quickly," she thought. This office was simply a delight to Leslie. It w
"Oh dearie, I'm so sad to see you go. You didn't even tell us you were dating anyone. What's with you youngsters and having flash marriages these days?" Tesla chided with a pout."I know, Tessy, and I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner," Leslie said, placing her arm on the woman's shoulder. She'd come to her old apartment in Brownsville to pack up her art supplies and her favorite paintings, so she decided it would be best to tell her two favorite neighbors the "good news" about her marriage. "By the way, where's Ted?""Oh, that old geezer, he's out for some work, but he'll be back soon. Would you like to wait?""Aww, I'm afraid I can't. I have to go back now.""It's okay, hon. I know you love birds must be having a hard time being away from each other," Tesla said with a wink."Haha, oh Tessy," Leslie said, trying her best to put up a happy smile. She couldn't bring herself to tell her the truth. She bade goodbye to Tesla and glanced around her neighborhood as if to commit it to m
"Isn't that right, Mr. Blackwood... uh, Mr. Blackwood?" a short bald man with a chubby face inquired."Hmm? Pardon?""I said it would be a pleasure working with you on this huge project.""The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Patterson.""You've been awfully distracted these past few days. Is there something on your mind?""No... no, it's just that—""Oh, let the young man be, Edward," said another short bald man who looked identical to Edward. "Didn't you hear that he's married now? He must be bummed that he has to be away from his wife because of us.""Ohh, you're right, Eric. I almost forgot about that. Congratulations on your marriage, son. I can't wait to meet the woman who managed to tame you," Edward said with a smirk. "Bring her along next time, okay?""That's fine by me, Mr. Patterson," Julian said with his best impression of a fake smile. The Pattersons were twin businessmen who were widely influential, and after Julian abruptly left their meeting the other day, he'd been looking f