Page 15 of As a Last Resort

SAMANTHA

I walked into the bungalow and found a note on the dining room table.

Installed a booster for the internet. Should take care of (most) of the internet issues.

Network: DockGremlin

Password: Pugglestiltskin

Well. Maybe he wasn’t a total stick-in-the-mud. I looked over at the small black box humming away underneath the desk, highly doubting it would solve all my problems.

One thing that would solve my problems would be Robby getting his butt down here like he was supposed to, so I tried FaceTiming him again. He picked up on the first ring.

“Why are you standing up?” I asked when his face came into view, the crisp white sheets of a hospital bed missing from frame.

“I’m just stretching my legs.”

“And by that, you mean you’re not listening to their instructions about staying in bed.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled the phone closer to his face.

“I don’t understand what they want me to do all day.

They won’t let me have my laptop in bed.

I can only stare at my phone so long before I go cross-eyed.

The spreadsheets you’re sending are way too small to look at on a phone screen. I’m going crazy.”

“Well, the longer you stay there, the longer I stay here. So, let’s make a plan that you stay in bed and do what they tell you, and I won’t kill you myself.

Deal?” I hung on to the small possibility that if Robby acted like the model patient, we’d still have time to switch places.

A couple weeks on Rock Island was better than a month on Rock Island.

“What, not loving the scorching Florida sunshine and barefoot policy?”

“For your information, people do wear shoes here. And, while I’m thoroughly enjoying the Florida sunshine, I’d much rather enjoy my real life in the city.” I missed conversations with people who actually responded.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Leigh. You don’t have a life.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled. I’d forgotten how charming the normal Robby could be. “That’s an incorrect and rude assessment.”

“I highly doubt you’re traipsing around the beaches with a strawberry daiquiri in your bikini.”

“Unlike you, I don’t drink on the job. And I’m not a bikini person.” His eyebrows shot up. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I wouldn’t have clocked you as a nudist.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Don’t you ever lay out in Central Park?” He shoved an orange glob into his mouth.

“Are you eating Jell-O?” I asked.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“What are you, five?”

“You’re one of those people who count the walk to work as your daily dose of vitamin D.” He scraped the bottom of the container.

I don’t know why I felt deflated at the fact he nailed it.

I didn’t consider my lack of outdoor playtime to be a bad thing.

It’s a widely known fact that too much sun causes skin cancer.

And, in just a few short years because I’d worked so hard, I was up for a promotion that was typically given to people five years my senior. So clearly, it paid off.

“On another note, you look pale.”

“Glad to see your observational skills haven’t melted in the sun.”

“Only my soul,” I deadpanned.

He chuckled, then his face fell just the tiniest bit. “They only serve room-temperature mashed potatoes and mystery meat. I haven’t eaten much lately.”

I hated the tiny pull in my stomach that felt sorry for him.

“Want me to get Ivy to bring you real food? I can have her sneak it in.”

“If I didn’t have every nurse in this place watching me like a hawk, I’d say yes.”

“Known for breaking rules already?”

“Only hearts, Leigh. Only hearts. Speaking of, run into any of your high school haters? I’ve been lying here thinking of revenge tactics for the mice windup thing.”

It took me a second to remember I told him one of my deepest, darkest secrets. And I was shocked he remembered. In a good way. He thoroughly piqued my curiosity at revenge tactics .

“Luckily I’ve been able to avoid most interactions with the local species,” I answered.

“I found a place that sells tiny mice. In bulk. Apparently there are quite a few people in Florida who think owning snakes counts as an indoor pet option. And get this—you have to feed them. With mice.”

“While I’m simultaneously confused and warmed by the thought of you buying me mice as payback, I’m not sure I’m following your train of thought.”

“I’ll totally fund the purchase if you’ll be the boots on the ground.” His eyes darted around, checking for the nurse’s ever-watchful glance, then reached for his computer on the bedside table. “Maybe she owns a place. What’s her name? Is she married? I’ll google her.”

Was he thinking I’d let them loose in her house or something? Or her car? I imagined little mice running in and around every piece of furniture she owned. The thought of one poking its head out of her car tailpipe made me laugh out loud.

“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” he asked with a devilish grin.

I smiled but didn’t give him her name. “As hilarious as that seems, I’m not sure if that’s the right path of retribution.”

“Well, you just let me know when you’re ready. I’ve got my credit card handy.”

I closed my eyes to reset. Here he was, acting like this normal human being again.

Well, a normal human being who would buy mice in bulk to infiltrate someone’s house.

It was quite charming actually. But I’d never seen him so pale.

Tiny dark bags clung to the bottom of his eyes and even though he cracked jokes, they didn’t have the bite they normally did.

“On a serious note, you really need to listen to your nurses. I’ve got a few places on the docket to grab pictures of tomorrow but a team brainstorming meeting would be great in a couple days if you’re up for it.

I’d love to start pitching a few ideas and thoughts I had on what’s missing here, but also cover what’s working really well. ”

“I will, I will. Scout’s honor I’ll keep my butt in bed.” The hospital bed squeaked as he crawled back in it.

“ And believe it or not, I would like your opinion on a few of the financials I’m sending over later tonight. While I don’t want to encourage patient disobedience, if you can sneak your laptop for a little, let me know if I’m missing any major line items for the new development.”

“Aw, are you requesting my help, Leigh?” he asked.

“You mean, your help on the project you’re supposed to be heading up? I would never.”

“I will if you say pretty please .”

“Not a chance in hell.”

He gave a hearty laugh that rolled into a coughing fit. He sounded horrible. “I’m sure I can take a peek. My night nurse loves me. I’ve already bribed her with a date when I break out of here in exchange for the red Jell-O. The orange is gross.”

“You’re predictable.”

“You’re jealous. Hear from Jack lately?” he asked.

“Goodbye, Robby.”

I hung up the phone and against my better judgment, I let myself laugh.