Thanks to my lovely editor, I wouldn't have been able to have this as polished without you. Also, a big thanks for all the great feedback on my little Drama. I know this chapter may start off a bit sad, but stick with it and you'll find a nice little surprise at the end. ;)
--------
Chapter 4
10 years later
I walked into the pub and sighed as I saw the crowd. It was going to be another long night at work. I had just finished helping Rob on the farm all day to only come serve a bunch of ruffians, who enjoyed teasing me immensely. Somehow I doubted there would be much teasing tonight, as tomorrow was my father's funeral.
I made my way over to the bar and prepared to cross the threshold onto the serving side when a pair of strong hands stopped me.
"What do you think you're doing here?" the gruff voice said behind me. It was Boris the pub's owner. I would recognise that deep strong voice anywhere.
He released me and I turned around to face his heavy set build. "I'm working that's what I'm doing here," I responded.
He gave me a grave look. "You're not working tonight, or tomorrow night, or the rest of the week for that matter. I want you to take as much time as you need."
I had heard this so many times throughout the past couple of months. I have been taking on too many things at once; I was going to wear myself thin, blah, blah, blah! What else did they expect me to do? I had to take care of my family and then I also had my own expenses to take care off.
"I'm fine," I said defiantly.
"You're not fine." He gave me a once over shaking his head. "You're almost as thin as a rake. If you don't slow down, I'm going to have no choice but to fire you."
I was shocked, he couldn't fire me. I needed this job. "You can't do that Boris. You know I need this job."
"I can do whatever I bloody hell want to do. This is my pub and if you don't start to learn how to take care of yourself, you're going to end up getting sick as well." My mouth was hanging open, he had never spoke this frankly with me before and he had certainly never made such an inside inference about my parents getting sick before. He must have been really worried.
"Ok," I said, looking him dead in the eyes. "But, that was a low blow and you know it. Plus I expect my job to be here next Thursday."
"I only do it because I care." He looked at me empathetically. "You know I could never fire you, the customers would cull me," he said with a half smile on his big face.
I wacked him on the shoulder. "You're such a big meanie." I slid past him. "See you tomorrow," I said leaving. He just nodded and went back to work.
-
As I drove home from my little stint at the pub I couldn't stop the flow of thoughts coming to me.
It was my father's funeral tomorrow. He had died of bowl cancer last week. He had been battling it for about six months and he lost all hope last month when mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. He just stopped fighting and we all knew it would only be a matter of time before he left us. I guess that's why I wasn't as sad as people thought I should be. I had had time to prepare for his death and to tell you the truth I didn't think about it that much. What I now thought about was how our family's farm was going to stay afloat and how to take care of all dad's old medical bills and mum's ever growing ones. My brain had officially turned into a calculator and I had no room for emotions.
I wasn't alone though. Rob was still living at home working on the farm and trying to take care of mum, even though she insisted she didn't need any help. Brad also helped where he could, but he had a young family of his own and he had his own troubles. So, it was mainly Rob and me, like always.
I drove into the driveway of my small cottage. Well actually it was Grace and Anna's old cottage. When Anna had left, two years later Grace had followed her daughter, as she couldn't stand the separation. Me being a naïve twenty year old, I couldn't stand to see the cottage taken up by some other family, so I bought it from Grace. At that time I was already working part-time at the pub and going to university in the next town over. So, suffice it to say, it was a struggle trying to make mortgage repayments on my cottage. There was a few times when I thought I was going to lose it, but Rob, seeing me struggling, helped me with the repayments.
I never got to a big university in the city like I had always dreamed of. When Anna left that last year of high school my grades flopped and there was no way I was getting a scholarship anywhere. So my only option was to go to the community university in the next town. I had ended up earning a Bachelor in English literature, which I still have no idea what I'm going to do with at twenty eight years of age.
It had seemed ever since Anna had left, my life had gone down the crapper. We had stayed in contact after she left, like we both promised we'd do. But, once Grace left, Anna was finding it harder to make it down to see me, as she was so busy with her studies. It was too hard for both of us being able to talk to each other, but not physically be there for each other. So, gradually over time, about five years ago we stopped talking. It killed me that we couldn't be like we used to be, but the separation was taking its toll on both of us. I didn't want to think about that though, it was probably the only thing that actually got me emotional these days. I am in denial about my father being dead and my mother being sick, to me they are still safe and sound at home, not a scratch on their heads and Anna is the only person who actually causes me emotional pain. I can't imagine what it's going to feel like when I actually have to come to terms with my parents. I suspect it's not going to be pretty.
I parked my rusting 1963 Mini Cooper in the driveway and set off to get some sleep in my little cottage. It was going to be a big day tomorrow.
-
It was nine o'clock and I was at the funeral early, helping with the preparations. The job of funeral director sort of fell on my shoulders, as mum couldn't cope with the stress of the preparations and Rob had his hands full on the farm. I liked doing it though, as it gave me something to do. Not that I liked the thought of burying my father, I disconnected from the fact that it was his funeral; otherwise I could probably not cope also. I just thought of it as another job, maybe I could start a business as a funeral director.
