Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“We do need to discuss the fries.”
He waves me off without even looking back. “Next time.”
He’s ornery on his good days. On his bad, he’s in one terrible mood. “Baby steps.”
I head to the front desk and rest against the counter. “Hi, what’s up?”
Misty looks up. “Mrs. Callender is taking meals in her room today.”
“Do I have her scheduled this afternoon? I don’t think I do.” I glance back at my e-pad as if I can read it from here to verify.
“Nurse Lucy said she’s not up for it and to reschedule for next week.”
“Should I check on her?”
Leaning forward, she looks around conspiratorially, and whispers, “Mr. Rosen yelled at her for turning the TV channel last night after dinner. She’s had her feelings hurt ever since. We’ve been working with him to apologize but haven’t been successful yet.”
I glance over at Mr. Rosen sitting on the beige couch staring at the twenty-four-hour news channel. I’ve thrown out a lot of beige in my life this past year. It wasn’t serving me anymore. I’ve decided to stick to more color. Not playing it as safe has been a nice change, though like my advice to Mr. Rosen, baby steps. “Have we thought about putting something more uplifting on TV? Maybe have a movie day to break up the news cycle?”
Comparatively, my job is easy. I do the checkups and write progress and regressions if they need to follow up with their doctor or if all is well. The full-time nurses working in the homes deserve medals for handling their moods and personalities.
“Lucy plans to sit with him over lunch to discuss his moods.”
“Let me know if she needs support or if he does.”
“Will do.”
I return to the desk in the corner they assigned me, sitting down to make more notes. I never quite settled in here at Dally Point. Maybe it was the timing of when it was added to my schedule or because every time I leave from my visits, I don’t feel any difference has been made.
As a private facility, they need to hire a full-time patient advocate so I can do my job more effectively. I’m not a doctor, as they all assume, but I do think one needs to come more than once a month. I love the residents, but there’s more than I can take on, and no small raise changes the facts.
My phone vibrates in the bag, the buzzing enough to catch my attention. I have a few minutes before my next patient, so I reach down to grab it and do a quick check to see who’s texting.
I hate that my heart reacts so easily to something I should have seen coming since last August. Ten months is a long time, but not long enough by how my chest squeezes from the reminder. Everything still feels raw, exposed emotions left to wilt in the bad weather of winter months.
But the text isn’t from Shane. It’s from my attorney.
Attorney Whittier:
We received divorce papers today.
I’d almost forgotten about the papers that were coming, but time plays tricks on the mind and the heart, if I’m being honest. I’d fooled myself into thinking it could wait, so I never bothered filing. There wasn’t a rush on my side. Is there on his? Did he meet someone? Fall in lust with another notch on his post?
Neither my head nor my heart is tricked by the facts. He moved on while I rebuilt my life after his storm.
Another message appears:
I didn’t know you got married. I would have advised a meeting prior to the ceremony.
I laugh, but I shouldn’t. It keeps me from crying, so I’ll take the ridiculous reaction over the other, and type:
It was a mistake.
No need to go into details about who made the first error and the whirlwind that led to this outcome.
Me:
What happens now?
Attorney Whittier:
Mr. Faris’s attorney requested a meeting to work through the details.
Me:
There’s nothing to work through. I’ll sign. When do I come in?
Attorney Whittier:
May 17th at four p.m.
Next week. I look up my schedule. I’ll be at River Elms that day. It’s not too far from his office, so that works out.
Me:
I’ll be there.
Attorney Whittier:
Divorce law is not my specialty, so I’m pulling in a colleague I work with at the office. They’ll review everything before the meeting and consult if needed.
Me:
Thank you.
I dread the bill I’m about to be hit with, but Shane and I should have done this last year. He’s making it clear he’s moving on. I’ve tried, but maybe this is the one thing that will force me to do it. Anyway, this is no big deal. I knew it was coming.
“Men are the worst,” I sob, blowing my nose into the last tissue from the box.
Patting my back, Luna hugs me to her shoulder. “Let it all out.”