Chapter 5: Neighbourly Concern

I pull the ice pack away and gingerly feel the back of my head. It’s still tender to the touch, and the Advil is only doing so much to ease the ache in my skull and stiffness in my neck, which means tomorrow at the diner is going to be a gruelling eight hours.

“You sure I can’t get you anything?” asks Amber, sitting on the end of the bed against the glass pane, smothering Ily with affection.

“I’m okay. I appreciate you bringing me food though,” I say graciously. “I really didn’t feel like getting up. I just want to spend the day resting so I can be alright for work tomorrow.”

Amber looks at me with a deep frown of displeasure. “You’re not seriously going to work tomorrow.”

“Of course, I am.”

“Lani, you could have been really hurt last night. I would be so shaken if it was me,” she says while nuzzling Ily who playfully paws at her face.

“I’m not. No one intentionally hurt me, it was just an accident. I’m not bleeding or have any broken bones, so there’s no reason for me to stay home.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t accidentally punch you or it might be a different story. This isn’t even a celebrity thing; this is a typical man thing. Men love to go around saying women are hormonal, then blame their love of violence on testosterone, like that isn’t a fucking hormone,” she sneers. “They go around solving their problems with their fists and comparing dick sizes and have convinced themselves that’s healthy and as a result, innocent bystanders minding their own fucking business get hurt in the process.”

“But it’s not like this frustrates you or anything,” I tease, taking a bite of the souvlaki Amber brought me.

“Why aren’t you mad about this?” she says with disapproval.

“Because it’s genuinely not worth making a big deal about. I got paid and got to go home early. That’s a win,” I say brightly.

“Can I ask you something?” she says hesitantly.

“Sure.”

“I’m not here to judge and I swear I’ll keep it a secret but…are you an illegal immigrant?” she asks quietly as if ICE has my apartment bugged. “Because if you need a lawyer I would gladly represent you, pro bono.”

I roll my eyes. “I assure you I’m very legal. Took two painstaking years, but I was sworn in and have a very legal citizenship, thank you very much.”

“Okay,” she nods. “I wasn’t judging, I don’t care if you are or aren’t, I just thought maybe that’s why you didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

“I didn’t want to go to the hospital because it would cost me an arm and a leg, and I just can’t afford it. I’m only going there if I’m dying or could die.”

I get up and walk over to the kitchenette grabbing a root beer. I hold one up for Amber, but she shakes her head.

“That’s pretty fair. What’s health care like in the Dominican Republic?”

I open my drink and take a sip. “Kind of a mixed bag. It used to be better, but between hurricanes and economic decline it’s a struggling system.”

“Is that how things ended up bad for your dad?” she inquires compassionately.

“That was more like a series of bad luck, starting with the accident and then realising his insurance had expired,” I sigh, remembering the day that changed my family’s life forever.

“Insurance is such a fucking scam; I don’t care where you live. Thousands of years people managed just fine without insurance.”

I raise my eyebrow questioningly. “People died.”

“Because we didn’t have the science or technology we have now. Now they die because the insurance they’ve paid for their whole lives found some loophole so they don’t have to pay and now people can’t get lifesaving procedures,” she rants.

“Are there any causes you don’t get on a soap box for, or is everything up for grabs?”

“I don’t support causes that endanger people or allow criminals to get away with crimes,” she says definitively.

“That’s a really small list. How many protests have you been to this year so far?”

“Ten. No! Eleven. No! Wait…thirteen. I forgot the one in San Francisco at the start of the year and the one in New York.”

“At least you’re getting out and seeing the world,” I commend her. I walk over, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and give her a tight squeeze. “I admire your passion and dedication to wanting to make a difference in the world.”

“As they say, the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,” she says triumphantly.

“Or in your case women,” I tease.

“As usual, women do most of the heavy lifting in our society.” She gets up, puts Ily on the bed and gives me a tight hug. “I have to get ready for work, but I’ll check on you later, and if you need anything just text or call or just come knock on the door, okay? That’s what neighbours are for.”

I smile, hugging her tightly. “It’s a comfort just knowing you’re there. You go show those suits who is boss,” I grin at her.

“When don’t I?” she winks, seeing herself out.

I smile, shaking my head. Amber can be an incredibly intense woman, but she’s the person you want if you’re ever in a crisis. The woman is a lawyer and an activist. That’s a rare combination. She used to work criminal cases, but she said it became too mentally taxing, so she switched to civil law. Maybe it’s just me, but there seems to be more drama in civil cases.

As I’m about to climb back into bed, there’s a knock at the door. With an amused smile, I open the door. “You couldn’t possibly have forgotten something,” I tease, swinging the door only to freeze like I’ve been encased in ice when I see the 6’7” figure standing in my doorway.