The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller(4)
Jason burst out laughing and shook his head. Evan offered a small smile and spun his empty mug in a circle.
“Seriously, though, what’s your plan?” Jason asked.
“I don’t f*cking have one,” Evan said. Tears sprung to his eyes without warning, and suddenly the bar became a blurry mess. “I’m two months behind on our mortgage, Shaun needs more oxygen therapy that I don’t have the money for because I have to pay for his personal-care attendant every day I’m at work.”
“What about,” Jason said, in a soft voice, “what about the rest of Elle’s—”
“Her life insurance?” His words cracked with emotion. “Her policy was for a hundred grand. I mean, who would’ve thought we should’ve had it for more? Elle was thirty when she got diagnosed. Fifty of the hundred went back to the Zine. The other fifty went to the hospital, and guess what. I still owe them over forty thousand dollars.” He gritted his teeth. “For my dead wife.”
Evan placed a hand against his forehead and braced himself. More anguish, like a rotten soup, wanted to spill out from inside him. Years of turmoil and pain, festering, a sore that wouldn’t heal like everyone else claimed it would with time. It only got worse with each passing day, with the addition of bills, the weight of Shaun’s treatments, her absence.
Jason placed his hand on Evan’s arm. “Ev, it’s going to be okay.”
Evan jerked away from Jason’s touch and pointed a finger into his face. “No, it’s not. No, it’s not. It’ll be all right for you, and for the f*ckers that fired me today, it’ll be okay for them, but not for me, not for us. Not ever again.”
He wiped away tears and watched Jason’s face fold.
A young waitress strode toward them, and Evan turned his head away. Jason ordered two more beers, and Evan thought about getting up to walk out. He wanted to but didn’t feel he had the strength. His muscles were atrophied with such crushing depression, he felt he might never move again. A few moments later, he heard the waitress set their beers down and turned to stare at his.
“I have an idea,” Jason said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“I’m not taking a loan from you. I won’t do that to you and Lisa.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking. How long does Shaun have left in the school year? Can’t be more than a month now, right?”
Evan’s brow furrowed. “He’s done on May twenty-fifth—why?”
“Now hear me out,” Jason said, holding his hands before him as though talking to a hostage taker. “I don’t know if you remember, but my grandfather has this cabin up north—actually, I shouldn’t say that since it’s technically mine, but anyways. It’s this really nice cabin on an island in the middle of Long Lake near Mill River. You know where I mean?”
Evan squinted. “Maybe. You visited them sometimes when we were younger, right? It’s west from Kelliston, isn’t it?”
Jason nodded. “Yep, we went there every so often when Dad was still alive. The island is smack-dab in the middle of the lake, and it’s not really big, but definitely a few acres or more. The house is in good shape, Gramps always kept it up, he was fanatic about it since he was a carpenter most of his life. After he and Grandma passed away, it was willed to me since Dad was already gone and Mom was in Florida. Lisa and I took Lily up there quite a few times, but we slowly quit going. It’s a long drive, and Lily wasn’t actually too keen on staying in such an isolated place, no Wi-Fi or anything.” Jason took a sip of his beer.
“It sounds really nice, but I’m not following you,” Evan said.
“Here’s the thing.” Jason held up his hand. “Since we haven’t gone there in years, I’ve had to hire a caretaker to stay there—you know, do maintenance around the place, make sure no one’s breaking in or shit like that. My most recent guy just quit, and I was thinking—”
“No, I’m not doing that,” Evan said, shaking his head. “Thanks, but no. How would I get Shaun his treatments? He has physical and occupational therapy twice a week.”
“There’s a great clinic in Mill, we had to take Lily there once when she stepped on a fishhook on the dock. The place comes with a fishing boat and a little cruising pontoon. You could bring him back and forth across the lake, no problem, he’d love it.”
Evan began another protest, but Jason continued: “Plus, he won’t be in school that much longer. You could take him out a couple of weeks early to get settled up there.”
“No, Jason, no, okay? I can’t run away from my problems here, it won’t fix anything.”
“Listen, I pay the caretakers that I hire well. They get to live there in the middle of paradise with a nice wage. I would pay you the same just to house-sit, and it would be more than enough to catch you up on your mortgage, I guarantee it. You could spend the summer there and write the articles you’ve wanted to finish for years. Justin over at Dachlund said the other day he’d love to print something of yours again. Now you have the time since you won’t be writing ads for that f*cking e-rag anymore.”
Evan laughed and sipped at his beer. Jason, always with the plan, always looking out for him. He recalled the day of Elle’s funeral. The sunshine beating against his black suit in mock joy as the long, honey-colored box dropped away into the darkness of the earth. He would’ve fallen to his knees right then if Jason hadn’t had his arm tight around his shoulders.