Page 8 of At His Beck & Call

“What?” I whisper, a weight dropping into my stomach. “No, you can’t?—”

“It’s a simple decision. Look at the line of people waiting to be dealt with,” she says, sweeping a dramatic arm behind her. “Then look at me. Does it seem like I’m kidding? If you go to his school today, fine, but you’ll need to start looking for another job.”

“Francesca?” Maria pipes up suddenly, hanging up on whoever she was speaking to and stepping forward. “It’s fine, I can deal with everything today; it’s just the lunch rush. I’ll?—”

“No, you will not,” Francesca snaps, and I see a man in line wince at her tone. “This isn’t a job for one person. It’s atwo-personreception for a reason, so we can tackle the backlog and ensure all calls are answered in a timely manner. So, what’s it going to be, Mrs. Davenport?”

Every eye in the room is on me, including Maria’s, whose normally uncompromising expression is, for the first time, filled with sympathy.

“I… I have to go and get Henry,” I say yet again. They’re the only words my brain can come up with. “I don’t have anyone else who can look after him.”

Francesca nods. “Very well. I’ll send you a termination email by the end of the day.” She turns to Maria. “Or perhaps you can deal with that, right, Miss Campbell? Seeing as you’re so willing to deal witheverythingelsetoday?”

Then she stalks away as the patients move out of her path, keeping their gazes on the floor or their phones, so they don’t have to look at either one of us.

I grab my scarf, walk slowly behind the desk to get my other bag filled with Henry’s things, and feel a gentle hand fall on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Maria says earnestly. “But she knows you’re the most experienced staff member here. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

I nod mutely.

“I’m a lawyer,” the man at the front of the line says. “If you need employment advice, give me a call.” He places a crisp white card on the surface of the counter, and I stare at it, fighting the urge to laugh.

As if I have the money to pay for a lawyer…

“I have to go,” I whisper, wanting to pick up my computer and hurl it across the room. “I’m sorry, Maria. I didn’t mean to make things more difficult for you.”

“She’ll come around,” Maria assures me, but we both know it isn’t true. Once Francesca has made up her mind, she never changes it.

And why didn’t I fight her? Why am I always so weak?

Pulling on my jacket, I give Maria a forced smile as I move around the desk. The phone starts ringing as I go, and Maria answers it while taking the insurance card from the man in front of her.

I walk through the patients and back out the door. The sunshine isn’t so warm now; it feels harsh and unpleasant on my skin as I begin to walk to Henry’s school.

What am I going to do? I can’t pay the rent without my job, and I have no plan for how to pay for Henry’s surgery.

I want to cry, toscream,but instead I just keep walking, silent and seemingly calm, like I always am. This is what James has made me: a meek, docile creature who never answers back, never retaliates, just sucks up all the pain and gets on with things.

I grind my teeth, staring ahead of me as a wave of white-hot rage burns through me.

I have no other fucking choice.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I scroll to James’s name, staring at his hateful, awful photograph and the simpering smile on his smug face.

One phone call and Henry’s life would be better again. He’d be able to start treatment immediately and start feeling better. The ease and simplicity of it are a tantalizing lure.

I lower the phone, my teeth digging hard into my bottom lip.

And once I call James, what happens next?

He would be back in my life. Inourlives,asserting control over my son, ensuring that I am bound to him forever. If I have to take hundreds of thousands of dollars from him or use his health insurance, I’m tied to him for life. That’s not a debt I could ever repay, and there’s no way he wouldn’t blame me for it somehow.

That was his specialty. Everything was my fault. Everything…

My mind goes back to the twin black eyes in the photograph of that battered and bruised woman I used to be. I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it.

Henry’s life wouldn’t besavedif I ask James for help, it would signal the end of him having a mother. If I go back to James, he’ll kill me. Just like he almost did before.