“Well, they’ll fix her up and everything,” Northcutt says eventually. He’s looking at my mother with real discomfort. Uncharacteristically, Northcutt doesn’t answer. I worked my ass off to have all that money, and all that money couldn’t do shit when it mattered.” “I don’t give a shit about you,” I say very clearly. The seven different monitors, the uncountable tubes and IVs, the mask. We get to my mom’s room and stop outside the glass, and I don’t say anything at first, I just let him take it in. Let me show you something.” And he follows because he’s a curious douchebag and still wants his chance to lord this new turn over me. I’m in a rumpled T-shirt and jeans and he’s in a five-thousand-dollar suit and I don’t even care. “Well, and Valdman has tapped me to take over the firm when he retires.” Northcutt looks ready to gloat in full, but he pauses and tilts his head at me. A description of stock options and retirement funds held within the company and how to transfer the accounts.
“Anyway, you’re fired.” He cheerfully hands me a folder that I don’t bother to open. And then he takes a good look at me, with scruff that’s definitely graduated to a full-on beard and my wrinkled clothes.
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