McPherson: "Discount Lives"

“What did the doctor say?” Paige blurted, as a greeting. Leo shouldn't have picked up the phone.

Wiping a soapy forearm across his brow, sweat and suds mixed, making him itch. How long since he'd looked at the clock? Trying to figure that out could keep his mind busy for a while, part of the game he played, losing himself in the drone of wash, rinse, sanitize, repeat as the dishes just kept coming. Sometimes he counted songs from the kitchen radio, or performed complicated long division in his head. Anything to pass the time, and think about anything else.

“That I've got about a year, eighteen months – tops,” he replied, clearly not wanting to talk about it. Again.

“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “Anything new?”

“No,” he said, gruffly. Was she expecting a miracle? Maybe supplication would end the call. “Look, I'm only allowed to talk on the phone on my break.”

“Like you care,” she chuckled cynically. “The only thing you care about is not caring, about anything.”

I'm dying, he thought. But it was his turn to laugh. “I actually like this job,” he said, in earnest. “It might be the only thing in my life that makes any goddamn sense. Lots of food, and nobody talking to me.”

“Did you get anything stronger, for the pain?” she asked, not hearing. I'm dying, he thought.

“Nothing helps.” Decker was eyeing him now, from the office. Any second and the wrist-tapping would begin.

He tried again. “Look Sis, I've really – ”

Paige still wasn't listening. “Maybe you should find a better job,” she suggested, for the millionth time.

“If you don't hang up I might have to.”

He heard her pitying sigh. “Poor Leo,” she began, trailing off. “You've always been so...”

“Yeah?” he asked, after a moment.

“I don't know – lost, I guess. And sad,” she added.

“I feel like a tourist,” he muttered, remembering a song and suddenly feeling drained.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he answered, wearily. The boss was really heating up, hands on his hips and staring right at Leo.

“Have you talked to your daughter?”

His throat tightened. Paige knew better, and her niece's name. She just wanted to sound like their mother. It only pissed him off more.

“I've been busy. Been out to see dad lately?”

Silence.

“Screw you Leo,” she finally said, cold and flat. She was crying.

“Once in the family's enough,” he cracked, and instantly regretted it. The line went dead. Stuffing the phone back in his pocked, he grabbed a dirty plate and plunged his hands back into the water. How long did that call last, he wondered, with an apologetic nod to Decker.

Wash, rinse, sanitize.

Repeat.