-1 Oliver (1/2)

”Thanks for calling and have a nice day.”

Anxiously, Oliver ended the call and heaved a sigh of relief. In less than five seconds he closed all tabs, clocked out, and shut down his computer. Shifting into second gear, Oliver grabbed his coat and left his cubicle in record time.

”Finished already? It's about time,” Oliver's lazy supervisor laughed as his arm reached out of the cubicle to catch Oliver by the neck. ”Thanks again for taking that call. She always talks and talks—”

”Don't mention it,” coldly brushing him off, Oliver fled into the hallway and slid past the closing elevator door.

Oliver's thoughts carried on in the new silence. I swear that guy has got it out for me, always dragging me into phone calls for overtime and doing his job for him. One of these days I hope corporate comes in to find him playing his Battlestar Invaders. He'd finally get what's coming to him. Oh! I almost forgot to call back-

”Um, sir?”

A soft voice broke Oliver's concentration. Oliver looked over at the somewhat baffled brunette in a pantsuit.

”Sir, when do you get off?” she finally asked with his full attention.

”Oh, sorry. I'm getting off at the first floor so don't mind me,” he nodded in apology as he pressed the button and let the elevator descend. After thirty awkward seconds, they both exited the elevator on the main floor and bolted through the revolving doors.

Now out in the open, Oliver whipped out his phone and called his mother's hospital room on speed dial. The phone rang as he approached the crosswalk, but he only reached the machine. ”You've reached William's Health Institute. We're sorry that we can't get to the phone right now. If you're trying to get ahold of—”

He hung up and thought to himself. That's weird, did something happen with my mom? Whatever, if it's important I'm sure they'll call back. Oliver put his phone away and didn't bother to worry for his mother when she had never truly worried about him.

The crosswalk began to flash green and Oliver began his trek to the other side. Oliver's right hand slid past his back pocket and revealed his worn, leather wallet. He flipped it open and ruffled through the photos in plastic sleeves, directly skipping the family photo full of illusory smiles. His eyes rested on a few photos of a girl, ranging from her teenage years to her youth. She was frail, yet beautiful in her own right. Oliver's breathing slowed and his body relaxed. Like a robot, Oliver walked along the sidewalk relying on muscle memory as his mind drifted into the past.

I'm sorry, Melody. If only I didn't have to take that semester off to help mom and dad at their stupid shop. Then I would've had enough time to finish my degree and build your dream home. Then you'd still be here.

He almost didn't notice the drops of water crashing against his face, but he quickly hid his wallet back in his coat like he was trying to cover an innocent child from a storm. As the drops hastened into sheets of rain, Oliver quickly readjusted and entered the nearest supermarket. I guess I'll stock up before I head home.

Roaming the aisles, it didn't take long for Oliver to gravitate to his usual groceries: some instant ramen, a loaf of bread, a few coffee packets, and a couple of frozen dinners. In no time he was next at the register, though he was again distracted by the photos.

”Would you like an umbrella?”

Oliver peeled his eyes off the picture. Having no urge to purchase such an overpriced umbrella, Oliver crudely smiled.

”No need. I'm close by,” he quickly replied as he handed her the cash.

”Are you sure?” she repeated with determination.

”I'm certain,” Oliver snatched his change and made his way out, bags already in hand. Before she could respond he opened the door, causing the rain to drown out her voice.

With his collar up, he trudged through the streets while avoiding the splashes from the traffic the best he could. There was still a fair amount of people in the streets. This was typical for the end of the afternoon shift as the street lights slowly flickered on, one by one.

His phone began to ring and vibrate in his coat pocket. Oliver glanced icily at the sky before answering, ”Hello?”

”Hello, is this Oliver Jones?” an emotionless voice responded.

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”Yeah, that's me. Who's this?”

”This is Dr. Mayburry from William's Health Institute. I was the one in charge of your mother's care.”

”Oh… Does that mean that my mom has-”?

”Yes. She has moved on. It happened less than thirty minutes ago,” the doctor kindly interrupted him and let out a deep breath. ”We understand that this is hard for you and want you to know that—”

”What happens to her medical bills?”

”Huh?” caught off guard the doctor froze.

”What happens to her medical bills, Doc? Did they pass with her?” Oliver cut right to the chase.

”Oh,” the doctor coughed to regain his composure, ”Well, in accordance with state and federal law they will be passed on to her adult children if there are any.”

”So, in other words, I get to front the bill?”

Astounded by Oliver's frankness, the doctor simply answered his questions. ”Yes, you will have to make them up.”