Finding You

MOLLY

I got back to the dressing room and changed to finish out the evening. After the night I’d had, I didn’t want to get into any trouble with Randall, so I tried to just keep going.

I helped with the clean-up as I did every night and made my way back to head home.

“Gianna!” I heard someone cry out. I turned to see Randall propped in the doorway of his office. His greasy hair slicked back, Hawaiian shirt hanging off his thin frame, he looked every bit the part of a sleazy club owner.

“You can call me Molly.” I rolled my eyes, making my way toward him.

“I prefer to keep it consistent. No slip-ups.” He gestured to his desk for me to sit.

I refused, crossing my arms across my chest and waiting to see what trouble I was in.

“You’re so stubborn. Fine, I was just going to give you a warning about this evening. Lucky for you, they didn’t complain and left without a fuss, but that means they left early, and we lost out on some major cash.”

My mouth fell open. I’d known I would get blamed for this whole mess. He held up his hand, stopping me from expressing my displeasure.

“One of the guys threw some money at the bar and designated some of it for you. Unfortunately, since you cost us some cash tonight, I’m going to split it between all of the girls and the club percentage.”

I sighed. I didn’t even want to know how much money he was talking about. I knew I couldn’t fight him on it, and it was best to keep my mouth shut, apologize, and move on. I just nodded, keeping my eyes down.

“I understand, Randall. I’m sorry about tonight. I really didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine. Go on now, and be back later today. I need a fill-in at the bar.”

I mentally calculated how much sleep that would give me, and it was less than four hours. I also ran over my mother’s schedule in my head, making sure I wouldn’t be missing out on getting her to any appointments.

I was aimlessly digging through my things, and I moved the jacket that the ballplayer had left when a phone fell out of the pocket onto the floor.

“Shit,” I muttered, picking it up, making sure it was unharmed.

“What you got, babe?” Giselle asked just as she was about to step out the door.

“That ballplayer, the one that gave me his jacket. His phone was in it.” I held it up showing her.

Her eyes grew wide. I knew she was thinking of all the ways to use it. I laughed at her, swiping on the phone, showing her that it was locked.

“Don’t get any ideas. It’s locked. Should I leave it upfront in case he comes back for it?” I asked.

“You shouldn’t ask me what to do. I never do the right thing. Be careful going home, babe,” she blew me a kiss, then headed out.

I put the phone back into the jacket pocket and set it back in my locker. I followed my typical routine and loaded up, heading home.

Once there, I checked on my mother, showered, and crawled into bed for a few hours of sleep.

I could not believe my eyes when I saw Mr. Blue Eyes standing in the club with Wes. I figured he would come looking for his phone, but I didn’t expect to be lucky enough to see him when he did.

After getting his jacket and phone for him, we talked for a few moments. I could barely focus on any of the words. His eyes were sucking me in.

I was so completely drawn to him in a way I had never been to another person before. It was a bit frightening. His eyes were so kind, and he seemed like he just wanted to sit with me forever.

When he asked for my number, I was giddy inside, then quickly saddened when I knew that it was completely against club rules, and I’d be in so much trouble.

Not to mention, I wasn’t exactly in a place to see anyone for anything right now.

Mingling with customers outside of club hours was heavily frowned upon. Randall would fire me on the spot if I had a boyfriend. I’d seen him do it before.

He didn’t want a jealous guy coming in causing a scene, so rule number one was no boyfriends. So, whatever this giddy feeling Mr. Blue Eyes was eliciting from me would end there. I chalked it up to lust, and we were done.

I saw him stop and talk to Wes for a moment before he finally left the club. I felt a strange emptiness when he was gone and had to remind myself to get back to work.

I grabbed another box, headed back over to the bar, and continued unpacking the bottles.

“What?” I grumbled at Wes, who I could feel staring at me.

“I saw you two,” he snickered.

“And?” I asked, placing my hand on my hip.

“There were some heavy sparks there.”

“How would you know?” I sassed with a laugh.

“My job is to observe and know things. I’m amazing at my job,” Wes teased.

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes and turned back as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I quickly pulled it out as I typically didn’t receive calls during the day, and my instant fears were confirmed when I saw it was my mother.

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Ramsey?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“Yes, who is this? Where is my mother?” I turned, looking at Wes. He was the only one other than Giselle who knew the situation with my mother.

“This is Hannah. I’m a nurse here at LHC Hospital. Your mother has…”

I began to breathe erratically, rushing to find my purse and keys.

“LHC Hospital you said? I’ll be right there.” I disconnected the call and hauled ass to my mother.

“What happened?!” I demanded to know from the doctor standing outside my mother’s door.

“She was brought in by ambulance. She was able to call 911. Her breathing was labored, her oxygen levels dangerously low.

“We’re checking various levels in her blood work now, but, Miss Ramsey, it doesn’t look good,” he said coldly.

“She has cancer. Of course, it doesn’t look good. We need to see Dr. Genotti. He’s her specialist. Can you page him or something?” I asked.

“We already have. He should be here shortly. We have her on oxygen and slightly sedated for her body to rest. Go, sit with her, and Dr. Genotti will be in,” he motioned toward her room.

I took a deep breath before stepping in. This was becoming all too familiar lately. I knew the cancer was winning.

No matter how many dances I gave or how much cash I brought home, it wasn’t working, and as it was killing her, it was killing me in the process. She was laid up on the bed, covered in the standard white hospital blankets.

An oxygen mask covered her sunken face, an IV in her rail-thin arm, and the pump beeping every few seconds.

I pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat, taking her hand in mine. I rubbed over it, feeling just how bony she had become. The tears began to flow as I sat there, taking her appearance in.

I had tried to get in contact with Tyler to let him know how badly he needed to come home. No matter the hope I tried to fake and the money I kept throwing at treatments, deep down I knew we didn’t have long.

Unfortunately, getting in touch with someone in the military in another country was quite difficult, despite the amount of technology available.

Despite everything in me crying out not to, I had even tried to contact my father. I found his information and reached out.

I let him know Mom was sick and mentioned that I could really use help. All of that information was relayed on a voicemail, though, and I had yet to hear back from him. That was a few months ago.

“Molly,” Dr. Genotti greeted me quietly as he came into the room.

“She was fine when I left this morning,” I looked up at him in tears.

“She’s okay for now. Looks like she may be developing pneumonia, fluid in the lungs causing the labored breathing. I’m glad she was able to call for an ambulance.

“I’ll need to keep her here for a couple of days. We’ll check her over and get some medications flowing, keep her on oxygen.”

I nodded. I hated that I couldn’t just relax, knowing she was getting care. Instead, I was thinking of the cost this was adding. I felt horrible for thinking that way.

“How much longer? I mean, I’ve tried reaching my brother. I just…I’m losing hope, I guess,” I said, letting the sadness weigh down my shoulders.