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And after this new incident with Dad yesterday, I can’t see the situation getting better anytime soon. It was my neighbor who phoned me in the middle of the day yesterday, at a time when the office was bustling with new and potential clients. Dad had gone for a walk without letting his home care nurse know, and didn’t take his cell phone with him. That in itself wasn’t the problem. He was fine until he made it back home. Except he didn’t. Nope. Instead of going to our house, the house he’s lived in for over thirty years, Dad walked into the neighbor’s house thinking it was his own. He undressed in their living room, went up into their bathroom, and filled their tub to take a bath. The neighbor’s teenage daughter, Lee-Ann, found him. She was the only one home and understandably was scared out of her skull. Thankfully Lee-Ann is also my sons’ babysitter, and a level-headed person to begin with. She got Dad’s nurse to come get him while he took his bath, and calmed her mother down when she made it home to find Dad drying off in her robe.
I’ve got to do something about it. Dad’s nurse has suggested on a few occasions that placing him in a nursing home is best for him, but I can’t bring myself to do that to him. It’s not just that he’ll raise hell about going. No, that would be the least of my worries. As poor a state as Dad’s in, deep down, my sons and I still need him. And although I can’t bear losing a little bit of Dad every day, it would be infinitely worse not having him with us. Still, the home care nurse’s visits aren’t enough anymore. Something’s got to give soon.
As I head out of the office and shuffle around in my purse for my keys, my phone buzzes in the side pocket. A quick scan of the screen shows it’s Lee-Ann.
“Everything’s okay?” I ask without as much as a greeting. Probably because I’ve still got Dad’s last faux pas on my mind.
“Hi, Amber! Yes, it’s all good here.”
“You sure?” I press the phone between my ear and my shoulder blade to free up my hands so I can find the office keys as I wait for her reassurance.
“The boys are fine. I promise.”
“And Dad?”
“Mr. Bain’s in the living room watching TV. I was just calling to remind you about movie night.”
“Right!” I’m beyond relieved that there’s nothing to report, but also a little embarrassed. Lee-Ann’s been taking Luke and Dylan, my two older boys, to the movies every other Friday night for over a year. It should be like clockwork for me, but like most long days, I’m slightly frazzled, so it slipped my mind. “I’ll be there soon to watch Kyle.”
“You don’t have to this time, remember?”
Crap. I forgot that too. Tonight’s Kyle’s debut to movie night with his big brothers and Lee-ann. “That’s right. Sorry, Leeann. It’s been one of those days. So is he excited?”
“He is! You should see him; he’s practically bouncing off the walls. Oh, and the home care nurse just got here for Mr. Bain. Take your time coming home. Everything’s covered.”
As I wrap up the call and slip my phone back into my purse, I can’t begin to imagine what I’ll do with the time. Surprise downtime doesn’t come often. I have a few ideas on what to do, considering that Dad’s nurse will be around for at least a couple of hours and the boys will be with Lee-Ann. Maybe I’ll pick up some wine on the way home, and just curl up in my living room with a drink and one of those steamy romance novels Lee-Ann keeps downloading to my tablet computer.
For now, I’ll pick up my car and get out of the city. Taking the side alley next to my office, I head over to the shop where I dropped off my baby for an oil and filter change. It’s where that hot mechanic works. We don’t know each other personally, but I see him in the coffee line some mornings. There were a couple of times I noticed him looking into my main floor corner office through the window from the sidewalk when he passed on a coffee run.
I can’t help but notice him.
And those sad eyes of his.
He’s rugged, dirty, and damned sexy. How can he not be, doing such a dirty, masculine job with that broad, muscular body, his chiseled face, and the sleeve of ink from his right wrist up past the line of his shirt sleeve? Hell, I’d like to see it up close. Touch it. Heaven only knows how many nights I’ve fantasized about those rough hands running up and down my body, against my skin. I’d love a little escape from reality with that big, muscular, dirty mechanic.
