CHAPTER 4
Steven
I made my first call before she was even out of my sight at the coffee shop.
And I haven’t stopped since.
It’s been an absolutely hectic day and it’s not about to end anytime soon. I haven’t eaten a thing and my head is starting to spin. I go to the kitchen to grab an energy drink and look out the window. It’s night already?
I’m running out of time. No…she’s running out of time!
This day has completely chewed me up and spit me out.
I went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. When I first saw her I was absolutely captivated. I can’t even deny how my body was reacting and the scenarios my mind was running through. Can I really ask her out on a date? Is that even right?
But then my questions quickly became way more serious. What can we do to keep her alive?
My tongue was tied and my stomach was in knots when I saw her, but it quickly turned to gut-wrenching pain when I realized what today was quickly becoming about. And as hard as I’ve been pounding the phones, researching, and just running through ideas in my mind I’m realizing that she’s right.
There’s only one way.
Dammit!
Why does life have to be like this? Why does it come down to this to keep someone alive? I’m not even thinking about this in political terms in regards to public healthcare or anything like that. I’m just thinking of it on a human level.
But there’s no time to wallow in my sorrow or wonder why things are the way they are. She’s been dealt a terrible hand and I have to do what I can to help her out.
But I’ve lived my entire life as an honest man. My entire being is built around it. My way of life…my profession…the way I view myself.
But I also take a tremendous amount of pride in being her godfather…in honoring my commitment to her father.
I’ve tried everything.
Second mortgage on the house? They won’t do it.
A loan? Not for that amount.
Call in all the money I’ve loaned to friends over the years? What kind of a “friend” would that make me plus it would be nowhere near enough.
Sell my house and move into an apartment with one of the junior cops? We have policies against fraternization.
Get a potluck roommate? Doesn’t matter. I have nowhere near enough equity in the house to make it work.
I run the numbers. I’ve never taken a sick day. Even if I added up all the holidays I’ve worked and didn’t get paid, the sick days I’ve never taken, and the overtime I didn’t bill I’d only be half way there. That’s no excuse anyways, but it does tell me one thing. I’m getting a whole lot closer to doing something I never thought I’d do…question my own integrity.
There’s got to be a way.
I go back into the living room and turn off all the lights. I squeeze my eyes tight trying to lubricate them. They’re bone dry from staring into a computer screen all day trying to work through a solution. I know Einstein used to lay on his back in the dark and stare at the ceiling and often a solution would come to him, or he’d fall asleep.
I know there’s no way I’m going to fall asleep so I figure if it’s good enough for Einstein it’s good enough for me.
Then I remember a piece of advice from an old investigator I met on his way out. He was able to solve crimes with his subconscious with what he called the Dali trick.
At this point I’m up for anything.
I walk back into the kitchen and grab a plate.
A few seconds later I’m back in the living room, but this time sitting in my La-Z-Boy. I pull my keys from my pocket and hold them in my right hand. My forearm is on the armrest of the chair but my hand hangs over. Directly underneath my hand I place the plate…upside down.
The moment I fall asleep the keys will clang onto the plate and supposedly I’ll awaken refreshed and ready to go.
The idea is that I’ll reach that split second moment where I’ll have barely lost consciousness yet also can’t be assured of having really fallen asleep.
Supposedly the “sleep” lasts for less than a quarter of a second and the trick was used by Dali, Einstein, and Aristotle.
There are multiple states of sleep and our bodies behave differently in each part. That crusty old detective told me this was his secret to tapping into a problem solving part of his mind which made him so successful.
I hate the word desperate, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I close my eyes and start working on a solution to the problem. I’m too awake. Every second I think about how we can make this work I spend another second remembering the curve of her hip, the plumpness of her lips, and how turned on she made me.
This is not working.
I focus more on the task at hand, feeling the stress due to the severity and the time constraint of what we’re facing.
Time passes, but I have no idea how much.
My mind starts to enter a different state, even wandering a bit. I just let it go.
Suddenly I flinch in my chair as my eyes dart around. I look down and see the keys next to the plate on the floor.
What…it worked.
Or did it.
Then it hits me.
My insurance policy is one of the few I’m aware of that actually allows you to add someone who you’re about to marry. Not a wife, but a fiancée…but it can be voided if the wedding doesn’t happen within ninety days after the effective date of the policy modification to add the fiancée.
But that’s still not right.
But…I’m also up for retirement in…ninety days. I hadn’t planned on retiring yet, but I could. And if I did retire the amount of money I’m to be paid into retirement would cover the cost of her treatment assuming I lived just another ten or fifteen years.
But…what if I didn’t retire? What if I turned in my badge the day before I qualified?
Sure, I’d look like the biggest weirdo in the history of all government employees ever, but I don’t care. I’d basically be giving up the pension that I earned in return for saving May. And not only would I be giving up my pension, but a whole lot more. Technically I’d be taking a huge loss on the deal even though I’d basically be taking the payment now and not over however many years I live.
In simpler terms can I justify walking out on the money that I would have made in retirement, and instead have the insurance company pay for the surgery for May? The insurance company would pay a lot at once, but it would be a lot less than the government would have paid me in retirement. And the insurance company pays out from the money the government employees, like me, pay in. So it’s kind of like robbing Peter to Paul. But at the end of the day the money that goes to May’s surgery is less than I would have made in retirement. The benefit is the money comes now and it saves her life. Saving her life is a no-brainer. The problem is can is trying to “justify” doing this? My justification is both saving her life, which is most important, and that it actually results in the government paying out less...paying the hospital now versus paying me in retirement which in turn is a savings for the U.S. taxpayer.
But if I quit my insurance stops.
But if we get the hospital to bill everything up front and I submit the paperwork while I’m still employed then it could work.
But will the provider of our policies really pay half a million dollars in a lump sum to a fiancée? That’s questionable…except for the fact that I’ve helped out the policy administrator’s family more than a time or two, including making sure to swing by their offices on my shift a few times a week.
It’s not perfect, but it’s not so imperfect either. It’s definitely in the gray area, and I hate that part, but at the end of the day I’d be giving up a half a million or probably a lot more just to get a half a million right now…and that would keep May alive.
And what’s the point of money anyways? It’s a tool to use to improve your life and the lives of your loved ones.
I turn on the lights and wrestle with the thought.
As much as I try and talk myself into it I still know it’s not right. I’m a man who’s always done things by the book and this is definitely not by the book.
But the most important book right now is the story of May’s life and there’s no way I’m allowing the final chapter to be written at age twenty-two.
Then the strangest twist of irony hits me.
If you asked me this morning, or any morning of my life for that matter, if I thought I’d ever get married I would have busted out laughing in your face. But now that’s exactly the plan.
But there’s even more irony because I never would have considered the idea…until I saw her today.
And it’s not because I’m not exactly a spring chick anymore. It’s solely because of her.
She made me feel in a way I’ve absolutely never felt before.
I could literally imagine a future with her. I want a future with her.
So now we’re going to embark on a…fake future?
And then the sixty-four thousand dollar question. How long will it stay fake?
Or more accurately how long will I be able to pretend?