Chapter 3

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've agreed in a heartbeat. But not tonight. She just wanted to go home, have a long hot bath, and sleep straight away.

"I would love to, Ted, but I'm not in the right frame of mind right now. But please send my regards to Tesla. Tell her I'll swing by later in the morning, okay?"

Ted knew that she couldn't be convinced otherwise, so he gave up. "Fine, but don't be too hard on yourself, ok, kid? Greg will be fine. He's one hell of a strong man."

He bade her goodbye and disappeared into the night.

Leslie unlocked the door to her apartment. Greeted with an air of loneliness, she retired to bed hungry, alone, and petrified about her future.

---

Leslie sat on the sofa in her living room, staring coldly at a certain purple card on the table as if she wanted to burn a hole through it. She had spent the past 30 hours in turmoil. She still couldn't understand the absurdity of this whole situation. She'd even tried painting something new to clear her mind, but all she ended up with was a living room filled with unfinished canvases and scattered art supplies.

"I have to do something about this place," she muttered and pulled herself together so she could clean the place up.

Her phone suddenly rang, and her heart leapt into her throat. It had been doing that lately, as if just waiting for a call that she hoped would never come. The sound of her ringtone woke her from her reverie, and when she saw the caller ID, an audible sigh of relief escaped her lips. Her tensed shoulders loosened, and a small smile played at her lips. She picked up on the fourth ring.

"Okayyy, why did you take so long to pick up?" a cute voice whined.

"I'm sorry B, I was daydreaming again," she said softly to her best friend Betty, her source of strength in both good and bad times.

"How are you feeling today? How's Pops doing? Is he getting better?" Betty questioned.

"I'm okay, I guess. No, scratch that. I'm in a terrible place right now, and Dad isn't doing too good either. I feel so helpless, B. Why is the universe against me?" she said and palmed her face with her left hand.

"Oh, don't say that, babe. It'll be fine. You know you can talk to me, right? I may be far away right now, but I'm just a phone call away," Betty said, trying to cheer up her best friend. Betty lived 3,000 miles away in San Francisco, but their bond was as strong as ever.

"I know, B, I know," Leslie said.

"Okay, so tell me everything that has been bothering you lately," Betty said.

Leslie confided in her best friend about everything that had gone wrong that week and ended with a sob. "I don't know what to do, B. I'm just so confused."

"Holy cow, are you serious right now? It's... it's so hard to believe," Betty said, her voice full of awe. "Don't cry, Les. If you cry, then I'll cry with you. I just want you to know that the decision is yours, and I'll be with you every step of the way, okay?"

"Okay," Leslie responded. "Thank you so much, B. I really needed that."

"It's my pleasure and duty," Betty said, earning a small laugh from Leslie. "I'll talk to you later, B. I need to go visit Dad."

"Okay, hon. We'll talk later," Betty said and hung up the phone.

Leslie took a deep breath, exhaled, and gathered her stuff to go visit her dad.

---

Pushing the door of her dad's ward open, Leslie was greeted with the familiar sight of her dad resting on the bed. He looked even worse today, frailer and more haggard. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes, but she had to stay strong for her dad. She steadied herself and stopped her voice from wobbling when she said, "Hey, Dad," in a soft voice.

Her dad turned around and beamed at her weakly. "Leslie, my girl, you came."

She nodded and crossed the room, holding his hand and squeezing gently.

"You don't look too good. Is there something you want to tell me? You know I'm always here," he said, squeezing back gently.

"There... there's something I need to tell you, Dad," she stuttered.

"Okay, dear, say it. I'm all ears."

She took a long, deep breath, her stance nervous, and said, "I've found a way to pay for your treatment. Each and every one."

Her father's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but how?" he questioned skeptically. "We don't have that kind of money."

She avoided his gaze and continued, "The lady who came here last time is Eleanor Blackwood. She... she gave me an offer. Her son Julian needs a wife, and in exchange, she'll pay for all your bills."

"You've got to be kidding me, Leslie. Marrying a stranger? C'mon, you can't do this. What will happen to your future, your happiness? Have you thought about that?” He said, his face tightening with worry. He tried to sit up, but Leslie made him lay back down.

"But you're my happiness, Dad. I can't lose you. I've thought about this long and hard, and it's the only option I have if I'm going to save you. I can handle this, I promise," she said, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

Leslie's dad made her sit on the chair close to him, his weak eyes filled with sorrow. "Leslie, dear, you're so strong and brave, my girl, but this is just too much to ask from you."

She shook her head. "No, Dad, it's not too much. I'd do anything for you, Dad, anything at all."

"But I... I just want you to be happy, my dear. My only wish is that you find the happiness that you deserve. Promise me that you'll be happy even in this marriage," he said, carefully cupping her right cheek.

"I promise, Dad. Don't worry, I'll find a way to make it all work," she said, placing a kiss on the palm of his fingers. "You just need to focus on getting better, okay, Dad?"

He nodded softly, and a moment of silence passed, the weight of her decision filling the air. "I love you so much, Leslie."

A lone tear escaped her left eye. She quickly swiped it and replied, "I love you too, Dad."

As Leslie left the hospital that evening, she felt a mixture of trepidation and resolve. She knew she was sacrificing her dreams and aspirations for her father's life, but deep in her heart and soul, she also knew that it was the right decision to make.

She arrived home and looked across the room, her eyes zeroing in on the purple card that still lay on the table. She walked over, picked it up, took a deep breath, and dialled the number written on the card. The receiver picked up after a few rings, and a cold feminine voice rang out.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Mrs. Blackwood. My name is Leslie Harrison from the cafe a few days ago. I've... I've made my decision…”