Maverick
The next day Raven and I drive out to Pineview Retreat, a fucking magical place for residents who need extra care.
The fifty-seven acre facility is located outside Jackson, and there are manicured lawns and flowers everywhere you look, even though spring hasn’t really sprung yet in Mississippi. It reminds me of somewhere a movie star might go if they needed a spa to recuperate at.
It’s a damn far cry from the trailer park we grew up in.
Raven and I get a tour of the place, including the gym, indoor and outdoor pools, sauna, tennis courts, pottery studio, horse barn, and cinema. Hell, the place even has a bubble bar where you can make your own liquid with different colors then package it and give it away as gifts.
I want this to be where Raven will live, but I can’t breathe every time I glance down at the dollar amount at the bottom of the paperwork Mrs. Watson, the admissions advisor, has given me.
She sits across from me in her office, the huge bay window behind her showcasing the horses that roam in the sprawling pasture.
Raven’s disability compensation would only put a slight dent in the six-thousand-dollar monthly fee, but to even get on the list, I need fifty grand, which acts as a deposit to hold her spot and pays the first few months up front.
I feel like I might be sick.
I’m thankful Raven is sitting out in the waiting room.
“Is everything okay, Maverick?”
I look up into the kind face of Mrs. Watson. An older lady in her mid-fifties, I sense she can read right into my panic.
Once again, I’m regretting not going into the draft early, but it’s too late now. Once you send your decision to the board, it’s final, and you can’t go back.
“Yes. Thank you for the tour and the information.” I paste a smile on my face. There’s no way in hell I can swing this place.
She nods, her hair carefully coiffed and pulled back at the nape of her neck. “In addition to your sister’s fully furnished apartment, she’ll have three nutritious meals served each day in our cafeteria, or she can opt to visit one of our onsite restaurants with friends or visitors. We have daily group activities and excursions to museums and other places of interest. Just last week we took a group to the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis.” She laughs. “We even do Graceland once a year—talk about an interesting daytrip.” She glances down at Raven’s health history and shuffles through the papers. “I see she sustained a traumatic brain injury in a car accident a few years ago?”
I clear my throat. “Yes, she suffers from memory loss, sporadic seizures—which can be avoided with medication—minor cognitive delays, and frequent headaches, which are easy to manage if she gets plenty of exercise. She was wheelchair bound for a year and still walks a bit off balance.”
Her eyebrow rises. “You’re very knowledgeable about your sister’s health. That’s impressive.”
“I’ve done some research.”
She nods. “We also provide counseling, as well as medical services and checkups. A full-time nurse is on her floor twenty-four hours a day.”
Damn. That sounds like heaven. It would mean I could rest easy knowing she was being taken care of.
I sigh, getting to the crux of the matter. “I don’t suppose you offer any financial aid options, do you? The cost is…steeper than I anticipated. I mean, I knew what to expect based on researching your facility online, but I wasn’t sure if you had scholarships or some kind of assistance?”
I’m just hoping maybe I missed something.
She gives me a soft smile. “No, but I understand your reticence. It’s quite the sticker shock.”
“How soon could you get her in if I paid the deposit?”
She looks at her calendar and taps her pen on the desk. “If you pay in the next few weeks, I can pencil her in for the first of May.”
Shit. That’s just a few months away.
I’m meeting with Leslie in a few days, and I’m anxious to hear what his offer is and how soon I can fight.
Mrs. Watson pulls me back to the present. “I hate to be a pain, but would you mind signing an autograph for me?” She blushes. “My son will go nuts over it. Our family has followed your career since you were in high school.”
“Of course.” Feeling at a bit of a loss and still reeling from the idea of figuring this mess out, I sign the piece of paper she’s slid over to me then hand it back to her.
“Great. Someday when you’re in the NFL, this will be priceless—not that I’d ever sell it.”
Right, but as a college student, I have zero money, and no one can give me money. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.
I nod and stand. More than anything, I just want to get out of here, talk to Leslie about the fight, and figure this shit out. I shake her hand and mumble a thank you for the hasty meeting she agreed to then make my way out the door.
Raven walks as fast as she can when she sees me, her face still red from the brisk wind.
“See…the…apartments…again? Please?” She hates Dad’s trailer, and I don’t blame her. I can’t keep running over there, trying to mesh two demanding worlds together into one.
I’m missing class today just to be at this meeting. God knows Dad isn’t the one to come. When I showed up today to pick her up, he was still asleep. I was the one to make us breakfast, help her pick out her clothes, put a load of clothes in the wash, and usher her out the door.
I ruffle her hair, forcing lightness into my voice. She’s sometimes quick to pick up on how I feel, and I like to think it’s flashes of the old Raven, the one who made straight As in school and was a normal sixteen-year-old girl.
“We only get one tour. How about some ice cream at Buster’s? You love their chocolate raspberry.”
Her shoulders shift in a vulnerable way, as if she’s preparing herself. “Pineview…won’t…let…me…in?”
I laugh and hook our arms together as we walk down the hall and head toward the parking lot. “It just takes time to get you signed up, that’s all.”
She sighs. “Wish…I…could…snap…my…fingers…make…everything…how…it…used…to…be.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat.