After I hung up, I looked down at my phone and checked my balance.
Two hundred and thirty-seven dollars.
A little over a hundred more in my other account.
Combined, it wasn't even enough to cover a decent checkup for her.
I sat on the couch, staring at those numbers for a long time. Finally, I opened my chat with Irvin.
"My mom's stomach problems are acting up again. She's in a lot of pain. I need a thousand dollars to take her to the hospital for an exam."
After I sent the message, I had no confidence he'd agree.
Sure enough, less than a minute later, Irvin replied.
"The household money is for this family. It's not for you to funnel back to your side."
My chest tightened. I clenched my teeth and kept typing.
"Consider it a loan. My mom just needs money to see a doctor. I'll pay you back once I'm earning again."
His reply came almost instantly.
"Once you're earning? And when exactly would that be? You're just a housewife. You're still living off me. Don't start getting ideas."
"Grace, I'm not trying to be harsh, but every time your mom has the slightest ache, you come running to me for money. You think I'm made of it? I've told you before—stop trying to use my money to fill that bottomless pit your family is."
I stared at those lines of text, a dull ache pressing against my chest.
It wasn't as if I'd never had the chance to work. When we got married, Irvin told me he wanted me to stay home as a full-time housewife, to hold down the fort so he could focus on his career.
He told me back then that he'd always take care of me. Now every one of those promises had turned to dust.
Just then, my phone rang again.
It was my mom.
The moment I picked up, I heard her voice trembling, like she was fighting to hold something back.
"Gracie, Mom just threw up again. My stomach's churning something awful, and there's a bitter taste in my mouth."
I shot up from the couch.
"Mom, what's going on with you?"
There was a burst of frantic noise on the other end, and then my aunt's panicked voice cut through.
"Grace, get here now! Your mom just threw up blood!"
By the time I reached the hospital, my mom had already been wheeled into the ER.
The second Patty Whitfield saw me, tears spilled down her face.
"Grace, thank God you're here! Your mom suddenly vomited a huge amount of blood. The doctor said it's gastric bleeding. They need to run tests, so you have to pay right away!"
My head went blank, a single sharp ringing drowning out everything else. It felt like someone had swung a bat straight into my face.
Gastric bleeding. Mom's chronic stomach problems had finally been neglected into something serious.
The billing window was just down the hall. I practically ran to it.
"Hi, how much do I need to put down?"
The nurse behind the glass glanced at the form without looking up.
"Five thousand upfront."
Five thousand dollars.
I fumbled through my bag, my fingertips shaking so badly I could barely grip my phone.
Two hundred and thirty-seven in one account. One hundred and sixty-three in the other. Thirty-seven dollars and eighty cents in my bank account.
All together, it didn't even cover a fraction.
I stared at the numbers on the screen, and the color drained from my face.
The nurse saw me frozen there and frowned.
"Ma'am, there are people waiting behind you. Go get the payment sorted. The patient's waiting on tests."
I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out.
Patty followed me over. When she saw me standing there rigid, the look in her eyes shifted.
"Grace, you didn't bring any money?"
My eyes burned, and I couldn't even lift my head.
It wasn't that I hadn't brought any. I simply didn't have any.
The nurse pressed again.
"Can you pay or not? We can't move forward with the process without it."
In the end, I sent Irvin another message.
"My mom has gastric bleeding. She's in the ER right now. They need five thousand upfront. Transfer it to me. Please hurry."
