"Why is Uncle Nick dropping me off for school again?" Baylee asked for like the thirteenth time as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his backpack on, his thumbs hooked behind the shoulder straps.
Brian was hurriedly pouring coffee into his thermos. "Because I need to meet up with someone --"
"Is it that girl?" Baylee interrupted.
"-- about business," Brian emphasized.
Baylee crossed his arms over his chest and glowered angrily. "Why can't you meet her after I go to school?"
"Because she's not available then," Brian said shortly. He grabbed the thermos and his keys off the counter.
"So don't meet her then," Baylee said simply. "You don't need a girlfriend," he added.
"She isn't my girlfriend."
"What is she then?"
"She has cancer Baylee, I'm helping her pay her bills."
Baylee rolled his eyes. "Mom would not like you going out with her."
"Your mother isn't here, is she?" Brian snapped.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them as the two Littrell boys faced off and the words Brian had spat sank to the floor. Baylee turned and stormed out of the room, almost running into Nick.
"Excuse you," Nick said as Baylee barrelled by. Nick was still in his sloppy pajama pants and a dirty t-shirt. He stard at Brian for a long moment. "Shit," he said, connecting Brian's nice clothes with the day, "I'm driving Baylee in, huh?" Nick looked down at the sweatpants that were so dirty they probably crawled out of the laundry hamper and onto his body on their own accord. "I don't gotta go in, do I?"
Brian nodded, "Yeah, you have to make sure he goes to class."
"His teacher hot?" Nick asked.
"Go change," Brian answered.
Nick nodded, "Okay." He turned back around and left the kitchen.
Brian followed Nick out of the kitchen, screwing the cap onto his thermos in the foyer as Nick jogged up the stairs. Brian kicked on his sneakers and pulled his jacket out of the closet. "Nick?" he yelled up the stairs. "Nick? Baylee? Be good at school today, okay? And Nick have him there on time."
Nick's head popped around the corner of the stairwell. "Dude, relax, it's me," he said, "What could possibly go wrong?"
Brian stared at his friend for a long, withering moment.
"Okay so a lot of shit could go wrong," Nick conceeded after a few beats. "But it's not going to," he added. "I got this. Go."
Brian hesitated.
"I'll make sure it goes smoothly, don't worry," came Lauren's voice.
"Okay, thanks. Bye guys! Bye Baylee!" Brian headed out the door.
"Dude!" Nick yelled, "Why'd you believe her but not me?!"
Brian pushed open the door to the diner and looked around. Molly was sitting in a corner booth, staring into the table, her face sad and solemn. Brian gestured to the table as a waitress asked if he needed any help and he slid into the seat across from Molly, who looked up as he lowered into the booth.
"Thanks for coming," she said, her voice thick.
"What's going on?" Brian asked.
Molly took a deep breath, but before she could answer him, a waitress came over. "How are you two this morning?" she sing-songed to them.
Molly didn't look prepared to answer, so Brian looked up at the waitress, smiled, and answered, "We're doing well. How're you, ma'm?"
"Good, good," she clucked. She pulled out her little notepad. "What can I get you two?"
Brian glanced at Molly, then turned back to the waitress. "How about two plates of steak and eggs, two cups of coffee, two glasses of orange juice and an order of toast to split?" he asked. Molly's eyes travelled to Brian's face. "On me," Brian assured her. He smiled, then looked at the waitress again.
"Sure thing dollface," she answered, scribbling down his order on her pad, then turning and scrambling away.
Brian looked back to Molly. "You look like you haven't eaten yet."
"I haven't." She paused, "I didn't last night, either." Molly sighed. "Look, Brian, I know I can come off really bitchy and pushy..." she gnawed her lip a moment, trying to decide where to go next.
"You aren't bitchy," Brian laughed, "You just know what you want."
Molly's eyes met Brian's. "Emma's sick."
"I know," Brian answered. "I paid the bills, remember?"
Molly suckered a deep breath. "She had a check up to see how the last round of treatment was helping her out," she said slowly, "And... they discovered it's not... helping."
Brian frowned, "Not helping?"
"Not even a little bit," Molly answered. She reached for the bundle of silverware on the table and started unravelling it from the napkin it was packaged in. "She's - she's discouraged. The way she's talking, she's ready to give up. I'm scared."
Brian reached across the table and took Molly's hand. "It's okay," he said quietly, "It's okay to be scared."
"Jake's irritated because I refuse to believe that Emma could die," Molly confessed. She looked into Brian's eyes. "I knew if anyone would understand me about how scared I am of that, it'd be you."
Brian nodded slowly.
"Brian," Molly's voice shook nervously. "There's... there's this one thing..."
"Yeah?"
"I was looking online and they say that having the treatment for more than one wave is crucial. It's detrimental. Most patients don't show results on only one cycle." Molly stared up into Brian's eyes. "She needs to go a second round."
"So book it," he answered, "Consider it paid."
Molly had to admire Brian's solid lack of hesitation. He hadn't even blinked at the thought of paying out another bucketload of money to appease Emma's doctors. Molly swallowed. "Well, see," she said slowly, "Emma doesn't want you to pay it."
Brian's eyebrows cinched together, "What? Why?"
"She feels weird accepting charity," Molly explained.
"It's not charity," Brian said.
Molly shrugged. "She refuses to let you pay out of pocket for this expense to go through another round. She didn't even want me to confront you about the whole thing. She didn't want you to know about her still being sick and all..." Molly paused.
"So what are you suggesting? Anonymous donation?"
"She'd know it was you," Molly replied.
"So..." Brian looked cluelessly at Molly, "So what then? What're you suggesting?"
"You have health insurance don't you?" Molly asked.
"Yeah," Brian replied, "Of course. What's that got to do with anything?"
Molly's mouth flew as quickly as she could get the words out, "I thought maybe if you married Emma she'd be on your insurance policy and she'd be covered and the treatment would be covered and she wouldn't have to think about you paying it out of pocket because your insurance would cover the bill and she'd be able to get better."
Brian stared at Molly, dumbfounded.
"Here's your food, sweets," the waitress sang, returning. She stood at the end of the table with her tray and slowly started unloading plates of steak and egg and mugs and juice and butter tray.
Brian felt like his mind was gone, stolen away. He stared at Molly, who stared back at him, and as the last plate dropped onto the table before him and the waitress hugged her tray to her chest, Brian could only just barely gasp out the words, "Thank you very much."
"Say something," Molly pleaded as soon as the waitress was gone.
"Marry her?" Brian asked.
Molly blushed. "I know it's crazy, it's extreme, but... you're - well, frankly, you're single right now, right? Why not?"
"Do you know how pissed off my son would be if I got remarried?"
"Nobody has to know about it," Molly answered, "Just a buzz buzz quick quick thing at the City Hall and some paper work saying ya'll are married and she's covered and that's it."
Brian could barely believe the words he was hearing.
"Don't act like you don't know how City Hall marriage works," Molly laughed, "Don't forget that's what you were going to use twenty years ago."
"Are you crazy?" Brian asked.
Molly shrugged, "Maybe," she answered, "But don't try to tell me you wouldn't have done this, too, if it could've saved Lorraine."
"Leighanne," Brian corrected her, his throat closing up. "My wife's name was Leighanne."
