I snort. “Right.”
“Hey, you never know.” I hear Michaela mumble something, probably to one of her kids. “Fuck, I gotta go. Brian’s being a little douche and drawing on the bathroom walls.”
“Well, he is your kid,” I prod.
“You shut your sass mouth,” she tells me.
We both laugh and with kisses and goodbyes, hang up. I sit there for a moment, savoring the sound of her voice still echoing in my head, wishing I could be hear her. Michaela was my rock. I miss her painfully. I tell myself I’ll see her again soon, that I’ll have her come visit me. Yeah, my apartment isn’t the best ever, but she doesn’t care.
Maybe she’ll like Rock Bridge.
I sure hope so, because I’m planning to be here for the indefinite future.
“Mr. Danvers, you need to take your medicine,” I coax.
He frowns at me, his brow furrowing with a hundred deep-etched lines. “I don’t need that shit,” he declares.
My first day on the job, and I can’t even get my patients to take their meds. To be fair, I was warned about him, how difficult he was with new staff. I have to take control now, today, or he will run all over me for the rest of my days at this nursing home.
I stiffen my spine and shoot him a stern look. “Your doctor says you need it. I may be new, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Take your medicine, Mr. Danvers.”
He eyes me warily for several long moments. Then he gives a painful sigh and extends his shaky hand. “Fine, but I’m doing this under duress. I want it noted in my files.”
“No problem.” I drop the pills in his hand, and he swallows them. “Have a good evening.”
My last patient, done. As I walk toward the nursing station and finish all the last-minute stuff to prepare the next nursing shift, I stretch my aching back. This nursing home is bigger than the one I left. There must be a lot more older people in Rock Ridge than I realized.
And they all are stubborn…and live in this nursing home.
A challenge, but I’m up to it. My soles ache, and my lower back is one big throbbing muscle pain, but I made it. And I have to admit, I do have a few patients who are awesome and made my first day on the job great.
If this job hadn’t come through, I wouldn’t have been able to leave the apartment Roger and I lived in. Snuck out in the middle of the afternoon while he was at work. That morning I’d gotten a new number assigned to my phone so he wouldn’t be able to find me. My heart had been a furious beating drum for hours until I crossed state lines.
Once I reached Michigan, I was finally able to relax. But even now, when I picture his face, hear his voice in my head, I feel my throat constrict and my stomach aches. My palms sweat and I feel nauseous. Getting away from Roger was probably the bravest, and scariest thing I’ve ever done.
So I don’t really care how hard this job is—I’m staying put. At least for a while.
Thankfully, the nursing home isn’t far from my place. Just under a mile. I lucked out on apartment location—everything I need is within a mile or so walking distance, from work to the store to even a small hair salon. I step into the warm afternoon air and start the stroll toward the grocery store. Last week I stocked up on a few essentials, but I need some stuff for lunch breaks at work. Seems like a good time to do so.
My time in the store is quick; I grab lunchmeat, chips, and juice. While I’m not destitute, I don’t get paid for three weeks, so I want to be savvy on how I’m spending my money. I load the bags into my arms and head toward home.
The blocks pass by in relative quiet. I hear a few kids giggling in the distance, not unexpected for summer break, and find myself smiling. The neighborhood is on the older side but quaint. The houses are brick, with nice lawns and inviting porches. Maybe someday I can save up enough to buy a house of my own.
I wanted a house so badly in the beginning, but Roger put his foot down, saying it was a waste of money for us to do so.
I make myself stop thinking of him. He’s out of my life, irrelevant. It doesn’t matter what he said in the past. He said so much and did so much. What matters now is what I want.
The thought puts a spring in my step. I continue the walk home. When I turn the corner, I see Outlaws a couple of blocks away. The sight of the bar makes my heart trip with mortification. Despite what Michaela said about not taking it so seriously, I’m still dying of embarrassment.
Maybe there is something unattractive about me. Maybe he could sense how fucked up my past is, and he doesn’t want any part in that.