Mandy shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. Of course he wouldn't know about the VA system - why would ancient magical beings keep up with modern healthcare bureaucracy?
"That's not actually the issue," she explained, shifting carefully in her chair to face him better. "I'm a disabled veteran. The Veterans Administration covers all my medical care, including any surgeries I might need. They've already been pressing me to have surgery, but I've refused it."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and she could almost see him processing this new information.
"Back surgery..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It's complicated. The techniques have improved dramatically over the past few decades, but it's still basically a roll of the dice. Once they cut into the spine, there's no going back. If it goes wrong..." She gestured helplessly. "Some people have back surgery and it's like a miracle - their pain vanishes, their mobility returns. Others wake up and discover they're worse off than before. I could end up in more pain than I deal with now, or possibly even completely unable to walk at all, instead of just having limited mobility. And there's absolutely no way to know which way it's going to go into until after it's done.""
The afternoon sunlight streaming through her windows caught Kieran's silvery hair as he listened, creating that ethereal halo effect again. His expression remained neutral, but something in those ancient eyes suggested he was absorbing every word with careful attention.
"You could purchase a house," Kieran observed, his silvery-blue eyes scanning her modest living room. "Something more permanent, that's yours."
Mandy struggled to stifle the flash of resentment that surged through her at his easy dismissal of her home. The apartment might not be a mansion, but it was perfect for her needs. Spacious enough to move around comfortably, yet compact enough that she could easily navigate from room to room even on her bad days. The layout had been carefully chosen to accommodate her limitations, with strategic placement of chairs and furniture.
The kitchen opened directly into the living room, allowing her to keep an eye on whatever was cooking while she rested in her recliner. The bathroom had been modified with safety rails and a walk-in shower. She might not own it, but it was still hers.
Then again, she had to admit the idea of owning her own place had crossed her mind more than once. Being upset with Kieran for suggesting the same thing seemed a bit hypocritical. She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to consider his words objectively.
Mandy sighed, as she considered how to explain. "I've actually thought about that, too," she admitted. "But owning a house comes with so many responsibilities. I'd need to hire a housekeeper for sure - cleaning is hard enough in this apartment with my limitations."
She gestured toward her window, where the apartment complex's swimming pool sparkled invitingly in the afternoon sun. "And I have to have access to a pool, swimming is the only activity that involves moving, that I can actually do without pain, or making things worse. So, if I'm buying a house, it has to have a pool. Which means hiring a pool maintenance service." Her lips quirked into a wry smile. "Plus a gardener, because yards don'ttake care of themselves. And definitely a handyman - when you own a house, you can't just call maintenance when things break."
"So that's already three or four people. And since we're talking unlimited funds here, might as well add a personal chef - cooking isn't exactly easy when standing for more than a few minutes kicks off an escalation in my pain pretty fast." The more she spoke, the more overwhelming the scenario became. "Then I'd need an accountant to handle all the payroll and tax implications."
Mandy drew a deep breath, thinking of all those people she'd have to interact with on a regular basis. "And since I'm basically a cave-dwelling introvert, I'd have to hire someone to actually talk to all these people for me. So, a PA." she added, glancing at Kieran's otherworldly features. "That's a personal assistant - someone to manage all the day-to-day interactions I'd rather avoid."
Kieran's lips twitched, and his silvery-blue eyes gleamed with barely suppressed amusement. "I see you've given this more than a passing thought."
Heat crept up Mandy's neck as she realized how detailed her impromptu house-ownership scenario had become.
"And we're back to my ADHD tendencies," she said, gesturing vaguely at her head. She glanced toward her kitchen, where a large spice rack with pull-out drawers sat on the counter by the stove. "I mean, I alphabetize my spices."
Kieran stared at her, his ancient features settling into an expression she couldn't quite interpret. The silence stretched between them for a long moment before he spoke, his deep voice utterly blank.
"You... alphabetize... your spices."
Mandy grinned. "That's exactly what my mom said, in just that tone of voice. But see, that's exactly what I mean. I don't understand why people don't get it. If I want cumin, I don't wantto search through dozens of jars or bags to find what I'm looking for." She gestured toward her meticulously organized spice rack. "It just makes sense to alphabetize them."
Heat crept up her neck as Kieran's gaze remained fixed on her, his ancient features unreadable. She grimaced, ducking her head to avoid his gaze.
"I'm the only one in the world it seems to make sense to," she muttered.
Kieran's silvery-blue eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you alphabetize spices that come in bags?"
Mandy bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her amusement. This wasn't her first rodeo explaining her spice organization system.
"I don't keep them in the bags," she explained, gesturing toward her kitchen. "See those drawers there? They slide out, and hold bottles of spices. The bottles are all the same size and shape, glass, with clear labels."
"I buy the spices in larger bottles and bags - those stay in a basket in the back of my pantry. Then I use those to refill the bottles in the spice rack when they get low." She smiled, warming to her subject. "It's actually more cost-effective to buy in bulk, especially for things I use frequently like cinnamon, and Indian and Italian seasonings."
Mandy watched Kieran's expression, waiting for the usual reaction - the raised eyebrows, the barely concealed amusement, maybe even an eye roll or three. But his ancient features remained thoughtful, those intense eyes studying her spice rack with genuine interest.
"Each bottle has its proper place," she continued, encouraged by the fact that he was actually listening to her… hearing her. "When I'm cooking, I can reach for exactly what I need without having to search through a jumbled mess of different-sized containers. Then I just put them back in their proper slot."
Mandy warmed to the topic now that he seemed genuinely interested rather than dismissive. "Oh, and my books are alphabetized too. By genre first, then author's last name, then title within each author's works."
Her gaze swept lovingly across the overflowing bookshelves lining her living room walls. The familiar, organized chaos of her collection brought her joy every time she looked at it.
"And my DVDs," she continued, gesturing toward the entertainment center. "Those are sorted into categories first - movies, TV shows, and documentaries. Then alphabetical by title within each section." She paused, remembering an important distinction. "Except for Christmas movies, of course. Those have their own separate shelf."
