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“Do you think I’ll be able to go outside, Taylor?”
“Yes, I’ll make sure of it, Mrs. Marshall. Let’s put on a coat and wrap a nice warm scarf around your neck. I just need five minutes to get your wheelchair ready.”
“Can’t I walk?”
“That’s the plan, but I’ll have the chair ready in case you get tired.”
“Why don’t you call me Maryann, dear? You make all my days better, Taylor. I’m not sure I want Bonnie to come back,” she says, referring to my neighbor, a professional nurse whose position I’m currently filling.
I stifle a laugh because I know that, despite what she says, my employer loves Bonnie. “Don’t tempt me. I might convince her not to come back. I’m really enjoying our time together.”
“I am too, my dear, but you’re far too young to be stuck in a mausoleum with an old lady.”
I don’t tell her that what I’m earning now will let me breathe easier for the next three weeks. The salary I’ll receive as Mrs. Marshall’s companion amounts to five times what I make walking dogs or waiting tables at the bar at night.
As I head downstairs to get the wheelchair, I mull over what she said. Too young? Only in terms of my biological age. I’m twenty-two, but I often feel like I’m a hundred—no energy for anything.
I find the chair near the elevator on the first floor and once again have to keep my temper in check. Why don’t they just leave it on the floor where Mrs. Marshall sleeps?
Because they couldn’t care less whether she leaves her room or not,I answer myself.
Don’t they realize that loneliness can be as harmful to her as the illness itself?
“Was it while taking care of your father that you learned to be so patient?” Mrs. Marshall asks me about ten minutes later, once we’re outside near the flower greenhouse she loves so much.
I take a moment to answer, wondering if the years I spent caring for my dad—pretty much from early adolescence until a few months ago—are what inspired me to become a nurse. I plan to start college as soon as I’m financially able. “I don’t think so. I believe this has always been my calling, you know? Even when I was very little, I loved putting bandages on my dolls. I’d make up accidents or falls and then take care of their recovery.”
I don’t mention my dream of becoming a violinist, because it doesn’t matter now. I lost that opportunity, and it won’t ever come back.
Mrs. Marshall laughs heartily, and when she does, her eyes—which are as clear as two swimming pools—shine even brighter. “You do me good, Taylor Jarvis. I won’t send poor Bonnie away because I know she needs this job too, but I don’t want to lose you either. If you really think taking care of this old lady is a good occupation, I’ll be selfish enough to hold on to you with both hands.”
I do my best to summon my ability to feign indifference, but it doesn’t work. My heart races like a series of quick gunshots. I’m actually afraid I might pass out. “If you’re offering me a permanent job, I think you should talk to your family first, Mrs. Marshall. I don’t want them thinking I convinced you to keep an employee on the afternoon shift when you already have Bonnie as a nurse.”
I try to be sensible, but deep down I’m hoping her family will agree. It would be a wonderful opportunity for me.
Maybe in time I could even give up my job at the bar. For now, though, I need both. I’ve got a few months of back rent to pay.
“I may be ill, Taylor, but I’m not senile. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. However, I believe you’ll need some time to let your clients—the dog owners—know, right?”
“Yes. Actually, I only have two, and coincidentally, they’re both on vacation for the next few weeks. That’s how I was able to come work for you. But if you’re saying I can stay on permanently, then I’ll talk to a friend of mine to see if she wants to take over walking them.”
“When can you give me an answer?”
“Tomorrow.”
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Taylor
CHAPTER TWO
Two Weeks Later
“Oh my God,I’m in trouble!”
I look at the dozens of boxes around me and have no idea whether to laugh or cry.
Jesus, why did I decide to spend an afternoon reminiscing?