“Tracey, this isn’t about you or me. And this certainly isn’t about your damn pride. This about helping Yoss find a place to go!” I growled into the phone.
“My pride? Seriously? You think you’re going to get any help talking to people like this?” Tracey demanded.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I sincerely apologize,” I told her through clenched teeth.
“Humph. Well, I think you have a lot to learn about being a social worker, Imogen.”
Don’t tell her what you really think of her, Imogen. Play nice.
“Do you have funds to put Yoss in a hotel perhaps? What about transitional housing?” I changed the subject. I wanted to help Yoss, but I wouldn’t be her whipping boy either.
“Our funds are depleted for the year. As for transitional housing, there are no openings in the program currently,” Tracey responded shortly.
“There has to be an option—”
“There is. The shelter. I’m afraid that’s it. So perhaps instead of wasting my time, you should be discussing the benefits of the shelter program with Mr. Frazier. Because that’s all I can offer him at the moment.”
I knew funds were tight, but I wondered if her resistance to helping Yoss had more to do with me than anything else.
Whatever the reason, Tracey Higgins wasn’t going to help.
“Okay. Well thank you for all of your time,” I said a little sarcastically.
“Let me know if he plans to come. Goodbye.” Tracey hung up before I could say anything else.
I slammed the phone down and covered my face with my hands.
I became angry. Infuriated. And finally despondent.
Yoss was dying.
His options were few.
And there was very little I could do for him.
“He’s agreed to stay. For now,” I told Dr. Howell later that day.
“Is he still adamant about not going to a shelter?”
“Yes. I’m trying to find somewhere else for him to go, but I’m not getting a whole lot of help in that department,” I explained, feeling like a failure. Feeling like nothing I was doing would ever be enough.
“He’s lucky to have you on his side, Imogen,” Dr. Howell said and I felt my eyes sting. His words were meant to be a compliment. Why did it feel like a lie?
“Don’t leave. Not yet,” I said to him before I left that evening.
This time Yoss didn’t respond.
“Promise, Yoss,” I pleaded.
My only answer was the beating of an aching heart.
It seemed we were always ending before we had a chance to begin.
My house felt empty. I stood inside the front foyer, not bothering to turn on the lights.
This doesn’t feel right.
I jingled my keys in my hand and couldn’t make myself take another step.
“I can’t stay here. I’m crawling out of my skin.”
I was filled with dread. Yoss would disappear. He would slip quietly out of my life again. Breaking me apart in the way only he could.
I could see the resignation in his eyes. The set of his mouth. He was going to leave.
I gripped my keys so tightly in my palm that they bit into flesh.
My ex-husband’s words seemed to echo through the silent rooms. An accusation. A harsh slap in the face.
“Your heart has never been in this, Imi. I’m not sure why you ever married me in the first place.”
The thought of Yoss going back to the world he came from, the world we had lived in together, made me want to throw things. It made me want to rage and scream and cry.
He held me as the sun set over the horizon. We were so close. I knew that I’d never love like this again. I felt it with the certainty of a young, passionate heart.
“One day soon,” Yoss murmured into my hair.
“One day soon,” I repeated softly.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears dripped onto my lips.
I had been waiting.
Some days patiently.
Some days not so patiently.
To find him again.
I turned on my heel and walked back out of the house. I got into my car and pulled out of the driveway.
I drove back towards the only place I could go.
My happy life.
“What are you doing back here?” Yoss asked, looking up in surprise when I all but flew into his room. He took in my flushed cheeks and windblown hair and frowned. “What’s wrong, Imi?”
I put a hand over my thumping, thumping heart and tried to get my breathing under control. I hadn’t stopped to speak to anyone. I felt like time was running out. I couldn’t wait another moment.
I didn’t think about consequences. I didn’t think about outcomes.
I only thought about giving Yoss all the things he deserved. The things I had promised him. The things I had failed to give him.
“You’re coming home with me,” I announced.
Yoss’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about?” He put the magazine he was reading down on the table and sat up straighter.
I walked over to his bed, not bothering to take off my coat. I sat down and took his hand. I purposefully, slowly, laced our fingers together. Palm to palm.
“I want you to come and stay with me, Yoss. Right now. Tonight.”
Yoss stared at me long and hard and I couldn’t read his expression. I noted that he didn’t look particularly thrilled with the idea.