Better to get ahead of it. I’m not really sure what I was thinking when I offered for Stevie to move in with me. Honestly, I wasn’t really thinking. Or at least, not how I should have been. I was thinking about her alone in a camper with a hole in the roof in the middle of the woods with a head injury. I was thinking about how I didn’t want her to be alone. Iwasn’tthinking about my job at all. And that’s the second time that’s happened around her. The first being when I lost track of time that night in the hospital talking with her and forgot to check on my other patients. I’m not sure what it is about her, but I need to get my head on straight before I make any more unwise decisions.
Jen lifts one brow. “Oh?”
I settle into one of the chairs in her office, across the desk from her. “I only cared for her once, for a very short amount of time. But she suffered a head injury and her place wasn’t safe to live in, and so I told her she could stay with me—not while she was here, I should clarify—and she ended up taking me up on it.”
Her head tilts to the side. “Are you talking about Stevie?”
Small towns. Small town hospitals.
“Yes,” I answer, unsure if it being Stevie makes this better or worse for me.
Jen is quiet for a moment, scratches above her blonde brow with a short, bare nail. “She has other people she can stay with.”
I can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement. “Yes.”
“But she chose to move in with you.”
Again, I’m unsure of her meaning. “Yes.”
Her eyes are assessing, and I can see the gears working behind them. I liked her immediately when I met her. She reminded me a lot of my mom. Her way of putting people instantly at ease, of how she seems to think before she speaks but laughs without a care.
Finally, she goes back to typing something on her computer. “Okay, I don’t see why it should be a problem. If she comes back for any reason though, you can’t be her nurse.”
A tension I hadn’t realized I was holding onto unspools inside me, letting my heart resume its normal pace. “Of course.”
The smile she gives me is warm,motherly, and it twists something tight in my stomach. “Now get out of here. See you back here in the morning.”
I’m on swing shift during this contract, meaning I work nights for three or four days and then have a few days off before switching to days. It’s a shitty schedule, but I don’t mind. The night shift team is more fun, but the day shift allows me to see the sun and have a normal circadian rhythm. You win some, you lose some.
My watch vibrates with an incoming text as I open my locker and grab my things from inside.
It’s from Evan, my twin brother, and I snort out a laugh as I read it.
Evan:Call me shitstain
The locker clamors shut, the sound echoing through the room. I click his contact as I head out the door and down the hallway.
He answers after the first ring.
“Hey, shitstain.”
A soft, high pitched voice responds, “You shouldn’t say that.”
Clara. My six-year-old niece.
“Shit,” I swear under my breath.
She giggles. “Daddy is going to be very mad you said a bad wordtwice.”
“Hi, Clara. Is your daddy there?”
Before she can answer, I hear my brother’s voice in the background and a shuffle as I assume the phone is passed around.
“You shouldn’t curse in front of my daughter.”
“And you should use commas.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
