Chasing Abby(56)

I smile as I head out into the dark hallway and realize I’m finally going to have a chance to get Abby alone for a few minutes. This past week, not being able to touch her and kiss her anytime I want, has been pure torture. She’s my sunshine and the past seven days have been plagued by heavy overcast.
She comes out of the bedroom in her shorts and a tank top just as Chris comes out of the bedroom in a T-shirt and pajama pants. “What’s going on?” He looks at Abby’s hand and that’s when I notice the empty pill bottle she’s holding. “Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No,” she replies quickly, holding up the bottle. “I’m just out of my meds. Caleb is taking me to the 24-hour CVS in Wilmington. We should be back soon. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Yeah, go ahead. Go get whatever you need. Do you need any cash? Hold on, I’ll go get my wallet.”
“No, it’s fine. The meds are free.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”
She chuckles as she tucks the bottle into her purse. “I’m positive. It’s part of the disability benefits. I… We should get going. We’ll be right back.”
And on that awkward note, Abby pulls me down the stairs and through the back door to the driveway, where my car is parked. Once we’re inside, I lower the top so we can feel and smell the cool sea breeze and she heaves a sigh of relief.
“How awkward, to have to explain to my millionaire dad that I collect disability benefits.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, backing the ’Cuda out onto Sandpiper Street. “I’m sure he probably figured as much considering you were born with that condition.”
“Still, it doesn’t make it any less weird.”
I reach across and squeeze her thigh as I head toward Lumina. “It’s okay, Abby. I’m sure it was way more weird for him than it was for you. Imagine knowing that your child was on disability because her adoptive parents wanted nothing to do with you. He’s probably feeling like a jerk for not being more persistent about being a part of your life.”
“And probably pissed that my parents wouldn’t let him help me. God, they really screwed this up.”
I turn left on Lumina, then I hop onto Highway 74. We pull into the CVS parking lot on Market Street about twenty minutes later. We rush inside and head straight for the pharmacy counter in the back. The pharmacist working is an Asian lady with a pleasant smile.
“May I help you?” she asks, flashing us a friendly smile when we approach the pickup counter.
“Yes, my prescription was just transferred here about thirty minutes ago. For Abigail Jensen.”
She furrows her perfectly shaped eyebrows together and shakes her head. “I haven’t gotten anything for that name in the last half hour, but I’ll double-check.”
She checks through the alphabetized bags hanging from the stack of rods behind her. She sifts through the A’s and the J’s twice before she comes back empty-handed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything here under that name. Let me just check the computer. Give me a moment.”
She begins typing on the computer and I clasp my hand around the back of Abby’s neck as we wait. I massage her a little, trying to help her stay calm as the pharmacist’s fingers fly across the keyboard. Finally, she picks up her phone and dials a phone number.
“Hi. Yes, this is Karen Chen at 3822. Can you please verify that you have a prescription for forty milligrams of Xarelto for an Abigail Jensen? Please call us back as soon as you get this message.”
My heart sinks when I realize she’s leaving a voicemail. “No, you have to get that prescription. She needs it,” I insist as she sets the phone down.