Hit and Run by Sandra Balzo Page A

glass away?’
    â€˜Better
pour
away, instead,’ AnnaLise muttered. ‘I may need some backup.’
    A laugh gurgling in Nicole’s throat, she filled Phyllis’ red wine glass with the cabernet and then AnnaLise’s as well.
    â€˜So, Mama,’ AnnaLise said after Nicole had moved on and the acknowledged daughter took a blessed sip. ‘Is it nice having a weekend off?’
    â€˜Don’t you be changing subject on me, you hear?’ This time Phyllis at least kept her voice down.
    â€˜The subject being Dickens Hart’s money and that I should want it? Well, I don’t. Case closed.’
    â€˜That’s all fine and well.’ Phyllis’ eyes narrowed and AnnaLise thought another tirade was coming, but instead, tears started to trickle down the older woman’s cheeks.
    AnnaLise had never seen Phyllis Balisteri cry. Ever.
    â€˜Please, don’t,’ she said, holding out her napkin. ‘I’m sorry for … whatever.’
    â€˜I’ll tell you whatever.’ Phyllis snatched the napkin perfunctorily rather than gracefully. ‘For thinkin’ just of yourself. Daisy’s got stacks of doctor’s bills for her tests and she may well have stacks more if it’s the Alls-whiners. Even worse, maybe all this forgetting is on account of a tumor in her brain.’
    AnnaLise felt like she’d been stabbed through the heart. The tests, so far, hadn’t shown a tumor, but … ‘Then we’ll find the best neurosurgeon out there.’
    â€˜And who’s going to pay this “best” head-cutter? You?’ Phyllis demanded.
    â€˜Insurance, of course.’
    â€˜Your insurance?’
    â€˜I’m on unpaid leave from the newspaper. But even if I wasn’t, my insurance wouldn’t cover Daisy.’
    â€˜So, you
do
see what I’m saying?’
    The daughter just flat-out didn’t.
    And then she did.
    Taking back her napkin, AnnaLise said, ‘Mama, please don’t tell me Daisy doesn’t have health insurance.’
    â€˜That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Neither of us in our lives.’
    â€˜You’ve
never
had insurance? But what do you do when you get sick?’
    â€˜We pay the doctor ourselves, of course. Since we don’t work for big companies, individual insurance is sky-high. Doctor Stanton – and Doc Williams, God rest, before him – is fine with being paid on time.’
    â€˜But that’s
crazy
.’ Daisy’s head turned their way and AnnaLise lowered her voice. ‘What if something catastrophic happened to one or both of you? A car accident or—’
    â€˜AnnieLeez, you can’t pay what you ain’t got.’ Mama’s face was stern now. ‘That’s the long and the short of it. And as for “catty-strophic,” which you seem to enjoy the sound of, we just took our chances.’
    â€˜A bet you lost.’
    A sigh. ‘I can’t deny that.’
    AnnaLise closed her eyes, trying to come to terms with needing to come up with not just the twenty percent she assumed they’d owe beyond what insurance covered, but the entire hundred percent. Dickens Hart was paying her a hundred thousand dollars for writing his memoirs. She’d gotten fifty already, and would get another fifty on satisfactory – to Hart – completion of the manuscript.
    AnnaLise opened her eyes. ‘Mama, has Daisy told you the total of her bills to date?’
    â€˜She has, but she don’t want you to know.’
    â€˜Give, Mama. How much?’
    â€˜She said something came from the lab people just before we all left this morning, but up ’til then it was around eighty-three.’
    â€˜Eighty-three
hundred
?’ AnnaLise brow furrowed.
    But Mama was shaking her head. ‘Thousand.’
    Lacey Capri’s laughter rang out in reaction to something Dickens Hart said, as AnnaLise let the idea of $83,000 in unpaid medical