“I’ve been going over the budget numbers you handed in for your project. With the upcoming acquisition we’re being told to cut costs. This project is no longer viable.”
Wait a minute? Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“Are you firing me?” I asked, choking on the words.
“No. I’m not firing you. That’s not how this works. Normally we’d see about restructuring the program. See if it fits into another area. I’d look into moving you into another part of the organization. But it sounds like perhaps the best course of action for you would be to stay put. Look for something on that side of the pond.”
“So, what you’re saying is you’re encouraging me to look elsewhere?” I asked. I couldn’t deal with this. Not now.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied shortly.
I felt my temper start to rise. Did this man have no heart? No sensitivity? I just told him my mother had a heart attack and he has basically told me that I have no job. What sort of person does that?
“Thank you, Mr. Richardson. I appreciate your consideration.” Sarcasm dripped from my mouth. I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. But murder wasn’t a pretty look for me.
“I do hope your mother is all right,” Mr. Richardson said. Lying, disingenuous fuckwad.
“Me too. I suppose we can consider this my notice.” And then I hung up.
Seriously fuck him.
Shit.
I had just quit my job.
Shit.
My phone dinged in my hand. I opened the text and was relieved to see it was from Lucas.
Are you awake yet? I’d love to talk to you. xx
Suddenly there were too many plates in the air. My mother’s condition. My job. Lucas.
I didn’t know what I was going to do.
I’ll call in a bit.I texted back.
Then I got a shower and changed before heading back to the hospital.
“THIRTY FIVE HUNDREDdollars a month?” I gasped.
“That is the going rate for in-home care givers, Miss Carter,” the droll man said on the other end of the phone.
I had spent the morning at the hospital with Mom. She was a bit more aware but still confused.
“You didn’t have to fly all the way back here for me. I’m fine,” Mom had scolded when I arrived at the hospital.
“Mom, you had a massive heart attack. I hardly think that means you’re fine,” I replied.
“A heart attack? I guess that explains all these.” She lifted the wires.
I spoke with her doctor and he had major concerns about another heart attack. “Your mother’s health is worrying. It will require a complete lifestyle change on her part. And her recovery will be slow.”
Slow. Lifestyle change. Concern.
One thing was for sure; I couldn’t leave my mother alone again. And it was quickly becoming obvious that hiring someone to care for her wasn’t an option. I couldn’t afford it now that I had quit my job.
I had quit my job.
