~Iris POV~
As we sit waiting in the waiting room, I notice a bruise on Arwen's neck. "Hey buddy, you have another bruise. What happened?" I ask, trying to act casually.
"Sarah and I were playing tag and she really got me today!" Arwen looks at me with joy and excitement. One of the reasons we go weekly is so he can go to a normal school and not be stuck at home in a protective bubble.
"Yes, she definitely did that," I say as I ruffle his hair affectionately, trying to mask my worry with a warm smile.
Time ticked by slowly as the hospital continued to hum around us with the beeping equipment and other patients coming and going. Arwen busied himself by locating a small toy car in the play section of the waiting room. I watch him play with Edith, another child we see here weekly. My heart ached knowing they were suffering so much for such a young age. From my understanding, Edith was recently diagnosed with leukemia.
The nurse arrived and called for Arwen.
"Hi, Arwen. Ready for your treatment?" she asks with a friendly smile. I follow her into the treatment room, where the sterile white walls and the soft beeping of machines create a familiar but unwelcome environment.
As I helped Arwen into the recliner, I mentioned the bruise to the nurse. "I noticed a bruise on his neck earlier. He said it happened while playing tag. Should we be worried?"
The nurse examines the bruise gently. "It's probably just a result of his condition," she says reassuringly. "But we'll keep an eye on it. If you notice any changes or if it worsens, let us know immediately."
I nod, trying to focus on Arwen, who is already distracted by a small game the nurse has brought to keep him occupied during the treatment.
After the treatment, I head to the front desk to discuss the payment. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with a tired but sympathetic smile, pulls up Arwen's file.
"We need to go over the balance for this month," I say, my voice tight with stress. "Can you tell me what's due?"
The receptionist taps on the computer. "The new total balance due is $52,000. We can set up an updated payment plan for you, but you must ensure you don't fall behind on any more payments. If you do, it could affect your ability to continue with treatments."
My heart sinks. "We're already struggling to keep up. Is there any way we can apply for financial assistance?"
"You can submit the paperwork for assistance," the receptionist replies. "But I should let you know that the program is at capacity for the year. There's a significant backlog, so it might take a while before you hear back."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "Okay, I'll fill out the paperwork. We just can't afford to miss any more payments."
I take the forms and fill them out as thoroughly as possible. As I return them to the receptionist, I see Arwen by my side, holding the small toy car he'd been playing with earlier.
"Don't worry, Sissy," Arwen says brightly. "We'll be okay, right?"
I force a smile and pat his head. "Yes, sweetheart. We'll be okay."
With the paperwork submitted and the payment plan arranged, I gather Arwen and we head back outside. The sunlight feels harsh after the sterile environment of the hospital, but I welcome it as we make our way to the bus stop.
The financial strain and the looming uncertainty still weigh heavily on me, but I hold onto the small moments of joy Arwen brings. Each step we take is a reminder of why I continue to fight for him, no matter how difficult the journey may be.
After a 30-minute bus ride back to the diner, we arrive just before the dinner rush. As soon as we step through the door, Arwen's face lights up. He spots Joan at the counter and runs toward her, screaming, "HI JOANIE!"
Joan's eyes sparkle as she kneels down to greet him. "Why hey there, baby. How are you feeling today? Was it a good day at school?"
Arwen throws his arms around her in a big hug. "Yeah, it was awesome! We found a frog!"
I smile at the heartwarming scene as I set our things in the corner booth near the back of the diner. I'm grateful for the family I've found here at the diner, a small haven amidst our challenges.
Jimmy appears with two plates of cheeseburgers and fries, setting them down on the table with a friendly pat on my back. "Hey, kiddo, ya should eat before the rush starts."
I nod, taking a seat across from Arwen. We dig into our dinner, the comfort of familiar food providing a brief respite from the day's stresses.
The first guests to arrive for the dinner rush are the Jones. Harold spots Arwen and gives his hair a friendly ruffle. "Hey there, champ! Ready for another game of gin rummy?"
"Of course!" Arwen replies with a grin.
The diner begins to fill up as the clock ticks closer to the dinner rush, the once-quiet space now abuzz with the chatter of patrons and the clatter of dishes. The warm glow from the pendant lights casts a welcoming ambiance, making the space feel cozy and bustling.
Joan glides gracefully between tables, her apron flaring out as she weaves through the maze of booths and chairs. She greets each customer with a genuine smile, her voice a soothing counterpoint to the lively din of the diner. She refills coffee cups and takes new orders with practiced ease, her movements a dance of efficiency and care.
In the kitchen, Jimmy's voice rises above the sizzling of the grill and the rhythmic clatter of pans. "Order up!" he calls out, signaling the completion of a dish as he hands it off to the servers. His banter with the line cooks and his occasional shout to keep the pace moving adds to the lively symphony of the kitchen.
I settle into the rhythm of the evening, my steps light and sure as I navigate the busy floor. I take orders with practiced efficiency, jotting down requests and checking in with tables to ensure everyone's needs are met. The rush of activity is a welcome distraction from the weight of my worries, and the familiarity of the diner's routine offers a comforting sense of normalcy.
As the night winds down and the last of the customers leave, I turn my attention to the quiet booth where Arwen is curled up, fast asleep. The diner is now a hushed sanctuary, the buzz of the evening replaced by the soft clinking of cleaning supplies and the distant hum of the refrigerator.
I carefully count my tips for the day, my fingers methodically sorting through the crumpled bills and loose change. I reached a total of $241.22. With a sigh, I start allocating the funds:
- $100 goes towards the treatment balance for Arwen.
- $120 is set aside for the rent, which is due tomorrow.
- $20 is earmarked for the electric bill, which is already behind.
The remainder is divided between bus fare and groceries.
As I finish tallying up, I glance over at Arwen, feeling a mix of gratitude and concern. Despite the day's exhaustion and the mounting bills, Joan finished counting her tips and hands me $80 of her earnings for the night. I start to protest and she shushes me.
" Baby Girl, you know that you and Arwen are the closest thing I have to grandkids. I know you are stressed, let me help a little."
My eyes well up and suddenly large tears are flowing openly down my face. Joan pulls me into a huge hug and I sigh into her neck. It's the closest thing I've had to a hug from my mom since she passed when Arwen arrived.
I dry my tears and take a deep breath, gather my things, and pick up Arwen and carry him outside. When the diner closes for the night my dad is able to grab Arwen and I to drop us off at home. Arwen stays asleep on the ride back to our apartment. The challenges of the day may not be over, but for now, I find solace in the routine and the love that surrounds us.