supermarket flowers • lesy

3.3

Jesy's POV

"Leigh-Anne, it's 3 o'clock in the morning."

She didn't answer me. I only hear broken breathing patterns.

"Leigh-Anne?"

Still no response. Just sniffles.

"Leigh-Anne, I'll drive over to your house if you don't answer me." I didn't even know where she lived.

"I-I'm not at home right now." Her voice is shaky and fragile.

"Then where are you?"

"I have cancer."

"I know, love."

"Well, it's been confirmed."

I sigh, "Are you at the hospital?"

"No. I left this morning."

"Are you drunk, Leigh-Anne?"

"I don't know. I might be."

"Do you think you can stay where you are until I reach you?"

"I don't know."

"Why did you even call me?" I already had my car keys in my hands, heading out the front door.

"I'm lonely, Jesy."

"So you went out and got drunk after your results came back?"

"Yeah and I didn't show up to Nandos like I said I would."

I sighed again. That was true.

"Are you mad at me, Jesy?" She sounded even more child-like.

"No, Leigh-Anne. I'm already on my way. Stay put."

"Do you know where I am?"

"There's only one pub in town, yes."

"Hurry please. I'm lonely."

Not once did I ever hang up that phone until I pulled into the front of the bar, even when she didn't respond back to my questions.

Out comes a stumbly Leigh-Anne, still dressed in her work attire. She very slowly opens my vehicle door and climbs into the seat with a smile pointed towards me. I could already tell she had way too much to drink when she got herself tangled in the seat belt.

"Leigh-Anne," I start. "I don't think it's a good thing to leave you at home alone right now."

"I'm not alone. My dog is there." She laughs.

"But your dog can't nurse you when you have a hangover tomorrow."

"I'm a nurse. I can do it myself."

"I've had to lock the doors three times just so you didn't open the door and roll out onto the highway." I state.

"So?"

"Would you be willing to let me over your place? Just until you can actually be left alone."

"I'm not suicidal or anything."

"I never said you were. You're slurring your words."

"I have cancer."

"I don't think that's why, darling."

"Acute lymphoblastic leukemia."

I don't say anything back.

"The doctor says I need treatment.. PRONTO!" what a drunken mess.

"When do you start?" I ask.

"I'm not going to."

"You're too drunk to decide that right now, Leigh-Anne."