Agency, A #MeToo Romance (The #MeToo Series Book 2) by Jason Letts

Author:Jason Letts [Letts, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2018-06-26T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

It wasn’t until the next day that I got around to calling Lindsay back. I was in my office with a few minutes on my hands before Keenan and I were scheduled to have a conference call with Gary Polling about getting started with the partnership. I wasn’t sure which of these calls I was less enthusiastic about.

My sister picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. Everything’s OK though. I know the stuff on the Internet looks bad, but I’m really not bothered about it. I hope you didn’t freak out too much when you heard about it,” I said, absentmindedly clicking on some news links.

“Freak out about what? No, I wasn’t calling about you. That’s not what I need to tell you about,” she said.

I pulled my hand away from the mouse and cast a suspicious look toward the phone, as if it was behaving poorly. I couldn’t say I minded that my sister was oblivious when the rest of the world was discussing my recent sexual history and peer rivalries.

“What is it then?”

“It’s about Mom.”

Lindsay had a terrible habit of saying too much when she didn’t need to and not enough when she needed to say more. Left to my imagination to wonder what kind of problem my mother could be having out in the farmhouse up in the hills of the Catskills where we grew up, it was a tossup between a new drug addiction and a new deadbeat boyfriend.

“Why don’t you go ahead and cut the suspense and tell me what the issue is?” I said, a little annoyed. I heard a groan of disgust over the line.

“Mom’s got a brain tumor. They’re not going to be able to get it out. She’s only got a couple of months left,” she said. Her voice was chiding, which was ridiculous because if she’d just come out and said that I would’ve been appropriately aggrieved about it.

“Cancer?” I gasped. “Is she at the hospital? Did she just get the diagnosis?”

As ambivalent as I was about my mother and her, shall we say, reverse-helicopter parenting style, it was already cutting deep that her situation was terminal. Somehow I felt at risk, like a part of me would die if my mother died.

“No, she’s not at the hospital. She’s at home. Evidently she was having headaches and blackouts, vision problems a few months ago and went to see a local doctor who had her taken to Albany Medical Center. They’ve done everything they’re going to do, and other than some in-home care, she’s pretty much just waiting around to die. Dad was still her emergency contact, not that they could get in touch with him, and I didn’t even find out until earlier this week when she kept forgetting the names of things and was asking me the same questions over and over. She let it slip that she’d seen a doctor and I was finally able to wrangle the whole story out of her.

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