Sold to the Mafia Boss

Feeling Empty: Maria

The rag I'm holding in my hand suddenly falls to the ground. How? My mother was fine this morning. I made sure she took her meds. Father was supposed to be home right as my last class ended to give her the next dose, so how? Elaine rushed to my side as the tears fell from my face. Everything I did was for my mother, so that she could live a comfortable life, away from worry.

"Grab your things, Maria. I'll drive you to the hospital." Elaine says, wiping a tear from my face.

I still don't understand... I feel numb, broken, empty.

The drive from King's Chef Diner to the hospital is twenty minutes... twenty minutes of complete silence. We get on I-95 North and East on Woodmen Rd to Sisters Grove for thirteen miles. There's only two miles as Elaine stays on Sisters Grove to CommonSpirit St. Francis Hospital. My stomach churns as I sit in the passenger seat, praying that the phone call was a hoax. Elaine comes to a stop, and my body moves on its own, as I jolt from the car to the front desk.

"Can I help you, miss?" The lady sitting at the desk asks.

"I got a phone call that my mother, Carol Cecil, was here." I told her, trying to hold back more tears. The lady types on her keyboard, and suddenly stops. She looks up at me with a soft emotion that tells me everything I need to know.

"Wait here, I'll inform the doctor."

I sat with Elaine in the waiting room. I can't keep my legs still as I'm bouncing them up and down, like a kid on crack. Five minutes went by and there was still no doctor. I start to lose control over my emotions when a doctor walks up to me.

"Maria Cecil?" The doctor asks and I nod my head.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Your mother was brought in by ambulance. The neighbor found her at the threshold of your front door. It appears your mother suffered a massive heart attack. We found a large dose of Vicodin in her system. Do you know how she could have gotten that?" The doctor asks. My mouth drops, Vicodin is the pain medication my father takes, because he's an addict.

"There must be some mistake. My mother is on blood pressure medication as well as a low dose of oxycodone for pain. My father was supposed to be home with her after I got out of school. Was he not there when the ambulance picked her up?" I asked, trying to put the pieces together.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, but there was no one with your mother's body when the ambulance came to collect her. I will need you to sign some paperwork, to have your mother's body released and from there you will be able to plan the funeral." I'm still in shock and can't understand how this is happening. Elaine steps up and begins to follow the doctor to collect the paperwork that I will need.

By the time we are done at the hospital, it's already midnight. They took me down to the morgue to say my final goodbyes. My mother lay on a stainless steel table, only covered by a blanket. Her gray-rooted auburn hair is still neatly brushed. Her lips are blue in color, and her body is as cold as ice. My hand shakes, as I brush a strand of hair from her face.

Tears begin to welt in my eyes, as I place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Momma, I love you. I'll be OK. I will take care of everything. I'll make sure you are buried next to your parents like you wanted, with a beautiful headstone."

I signed that last bit of paperwork. One piece caught my eyes and I couldn't help but ask what it meant.

"This means you are your mother's sole beneficiary, you will need to contact her attorney and go from there."

I leave with Elaine and she drives me home. Elaine offers to give me the weekend off, but I decline. Until I find out what my mother has left me, I can't afford to miss work. I got out of the car, said goodbye, and walked up to my house. It's silent when I open the door, and the empty house now feels emptier. There isn't any sign that my father is home. He's probably gambling yet again. I wonder if he knows that mom has passed? I reached for my phone in my back pocket, pressed the button to turn it on, and scrolled till I found his contact info. It rings, but no answer, so I try again.

"I'm a little busy here, what do you want?" Gee, what a way to greet your daughter? I thought to myself.

"Dad, where are you?" Clearly he's at the casino. I can hear the slot machine that he's sitting at.

"I'm about to hit the jackpot, you're disturbing me. So I'll ask again what you want?" This time his tone of voice was more angry. I take a breath and just tell him.

"Mom passed away. Where were you? You were supposed to be home to give her her medication." I blurt out.

"I was home. I gave her the meds and had to leave again. She was fine when I left, a bit sleepy, but fine." He says with no emotion.

"What meds did you give her? Because the doctor said she had a large dose of Vicodin in her system and we both know that's your medication." My father goes silent, and all I can hear is the damn slot machine.

"Dear god, what have I done?" He asks.

"You killed my mother, dad. How could you get her medication mixed up with yours?" Now the tears are streaming out of my eyes, as I can't hold back my emotion.

"Look sweet pea, I'll make this right. I'll get help once I win this jackpot." I hung up the phone, not wanting to hear his empty promises. He's the reason I had to work at a young age just to take care of mom.

I cleaned up the house the best I could before heading to the bathroom to shower. I stripped off my uniform, forgetting that my current clothes were still in my locker at the diner. I step into the shower, standing there as the cold water hits my already tear-stained face. Here, I can let my tears run through the water. I sit on the floor of the shower crying for what seems like forever, before I finally get out. I put on my pj's and slid into bed, holding the documents that I'll need when I see my mother's attorney in the morning.

At eight a.m, I was sitting at the attorney's office listed on the card that was attached to the paperwork from the hospital last night. I had already called into the coffee shop. Brandon told me to go ahead and take the weekend off. I was thankful he was understanding, since normally he harps down my throat if I'm late.

"Miss. Cecil, Mr. Berg will see you now."

I got up, grabbed the folder with me and headed into the office. Mr. Berg is an older gentleman, with gray hair and soft blue eyes. He shook the hand of another man currently leaving his office. He looks familiar, yet I can't place where I've seen him before.

"Ah, Maria, please come in. I've heard great things from your mother about you. I'm sorry to hear of her passing." Mr. Berg says.

"Thank you, I'm sorry how long have you known my mother?" I asked, a little curious.

"For many years now. Shall we get started? And please call me Rich."

"OK, Rich." I said, taking a seat across from his desk. We immediately get into the paperwork. I will pretty much inherit everything my mother owned when she passed away, including her jewelry (which my father pawned years ago). My mother didn't have much on the lines of value; no car, no home deed, nothing.

"OK, we have this last part here, her life insurance," Rich stated.

"I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. My mother didn't have a life insurance policy." I blurted out. But clearly I was wrong. There where, Mr. Berg was pointing out showing a policy number and the amount she insured herself with.

"Your mother had a half of a million dollar policy on her. She states in her will that this money be used to bury her properly and the rest be given to you... to be free." My eyes are watering again. How did my mother hide money without my father ever knowing?

"I just need you to sign here, and we can have the money deposited into your account within a few days." I reached for the pen that Rich is handing me. Carefully read exactly what I would be signing and sign. I would give my mother the burial she deserved and use that money to move as far from here as possible, start a new life of my own.