“Nicki, I know this is hard, and seems like the worst possible timing, but there is something we think youshouldbe doing,” she began.
“Arabelle…” Dr. Dunwoody began.
“She’s right, Dad,” Vivian interrupted. “He’s not going to get a better chance.”
I looked between the three of them, confused. I saw Dr. Dunwoody look at me pensively, then he slowly nodded.
Vivian continued, “Nicki, we think… we think it’s time for you to leave, baby.”
I looked at her, hearing the words she was saying, but lacking the ability to comprehend them.
“…Leave?” I asked, confused.
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Dunwoody answered. “We think it’s time for you to leave your father.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
“I- Why would I… I mean, I…” I looked around the room wildly, years of ingrained responses forcing me to rush the denials. “I-I can’t!”
Vivian sighed. We’d had this argument more times than I could count.
“I don’t have enough money, and I don’t have any meds, or doctors to treat me if I get sick. Without any insurance, I’ll… I’ll… I mean, like my mom…” I couldn’t say it. I didn’t remember the paperwork from my mom’s attorney spelling it out, but I assumed it was my mother’s illness that had killed her. The same illness that would kill me if I didn’t have the very specialized, and very expensive, antiretrovirals that kept full-blown AIDS at bay.
“How much is enough, Nicki?” Viv asked. “You’ve got a couple of thousand dollars set aside now. It’s time to go!”
My eyes went wide when she told me how much money I had saved, because I’d asked her never to tell me. The hope it would cause me could hurt as bad as my father’s fists. I’d had no idea I had managed to hide that much cash from him. Then the thought of the monthly cost of my co-pays hit me like a punch in the gut. Not to mention the cost of medicationwithoutinsurance. My hopes crashed, as I’d always feared they would.
“It’s not enough, Viv,” I said, setting the coffee down. I flattened the napkin on the table ineffectively, its wrinkles returning despite my fingers brushing it over and over. “My meds alone… I mean, assuming I could get away without him knowing, I’d have to find a place to live, plus transportation. Not even counting the cost of a couple of months’ worth of my meds without insurance… I appreciate what you’re saying, it’s just… not enough. And no, I won’t take your money!”
“So, to avoidmaybegetting sick andpossiblydying, you’re taking the chance that one of these days hebeatsyou to death?” she answered, her voice dripping with disdain. Shit, she didn’t pull punches.
I saw her mom and dad wince as Vivian named the thing we’d held unspoken between us for so long.
“He will go ape-shit on you when he finds out your mom is gone, Nicki!” she exclaimed as she took a seat next to me. “You can’t stay!”
“What am I supposed to do, Viv? He’s the goddamnsheriffof this town. He has deputies and the law behind him. I don’t haveanyone,now. I don’t haveanywhereto go. If I don’t have my meds or insurance, I’ll never get away from him for good.”
“You’ve got me, Nicki, always,” she said, nodding toward her parents. “You’ve gotus. You may not be my brother by blood, but you are the brother I would have chosen, Dominick Rowen Terhune.”
I winced when she said my full name and sighed. My dad had given me my first name, but my mom had given me my middle name. She’d never explained where the unusual choice came from, but it just highlighted to me that Viv just didn’t understand. She came from a loving, two-parent household that was very liberal and accepting. Her Dad was the town physician and her Mom was a teacher at the middle school.
Viv was in school now too, attending the University of Florida in Gainesville. She wanted to be a meteorologist. I remembered her comment earlier about the co-op assignment.
“Hey! You got your co-op assignment, right? Where is it?” I asked.
“Great diversion tactic, jerkwad, but I’ll let you get away with it, because it’s relevant. Yes, I got my assignment,” she said. “But before we talk about it anymore, I need to know, do you have your driver’s license and social security card with you?”
“Um, strange question, but yes, I keep them in my wallet. Why?” I asked.
“Well, it was the only part of our plan I wasn’t sure of. Yes, I got my assignment. I’m going to be working at Channel 8 News… in Akron, Ohio,” she said.
“What?!” I exclaimed.
Akron was where I’d spent the first sixteen years of my life and was the place I always thought of as home. Akron was where Kaine lived.
“You’re going to Akron?” I sputtered.
“Yep,” she said solemnly. “I applied to the meteorology research program. Case Western Reserve has a great program, and they partner with the local television station. My department advisor knew someone who works there, and she got me in.”
