She sat in her overstuffed recliner, and I tested the strength of this collapsable plastic chair. We were reverse Goldilocks. Outside the hallway, two other residents fought over the last glass of champagne, but inside Ivy’s room, things were as calm as we liked it, even if my ass went numb twenty minutes ago.
There were no big plans. No big hopes for the future. Just the quiet monotony of living day-to-day as the supposed town brute.
The TV played a soothing British game show starring comedians set to do different, seemingly simple tasks but then manage to boggle them terribly. It struggled to hold my attention as my brain was too busy calculating how many extrajobs I’d have to take on to make my own rent and Ivy’s next month. Tomorrow was the first, and I only had a few days’ leeway. It was tight before, but lately …
“All the instructions are on the card!” Ivy jabbed her arthritic finger at the contestant running in circles on the screen. “Watching these bozos fail is rotting our brains, but God, I love it. Makes me feel superior.”
I chuckled. “No worries there. Not much left to rot on this end.”
She clicked her tongue and slapped me upside the head, which took some effort because I towered a solid four GPs—that was two feet, for non-locals—over her hunched form. “Owen Campbell, you know I hate when you talk like that.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” I apologized to my former teacher like I was back in school.
“I hated it back then, and I hate it now.” She crossed her arms and lifted her chin defiantly.
“Yes, I know.”
Ivy’s silver-blue hair was shorn short and thin enough to see her scalp from this angle. As always, a blanket was laid across her lap and another around her shoulders despite it being a sweltering seventy-five in her room. I was tempted to stick my head out the window and into an old snowdrift to hear the steam come sizzling out.
Her watery eyes held mine, the pale gray searching me. “You better. You aren’t some dumb, violent beast.”
A familiar tug of gratitude had me smiling at her. Sometimes I wonder how I would have turned out if I didn’t have at least one person believe that I was more than a thug. I envisioned the path I would have taken, but it always ended poorly.
A teenage intern who couldn’t be out of high school knocked on the doorjamb. “Hi, Miss Flores, just wanted to check to see if you needed anything before I left for the—” He spotted mewhen he stepped fully into the room, causing his voice to hitch and crack. His eyes widened momentarily as they flicked over me. Poor new kid probably heard all the rumors about me. “For-for the night,” he stammered. With legs spread wide and arms crossed, my massive chest and biceps were even more exaggerated.
“I’m fine, doll. Happy New Year,” Ivy said.
The teen mumbled a salutation in return before hightailing it.
I gave Ivy a pointed look.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re big and scary looking. But only to those who don’t know you.” She rolled her eyes and snatched the remote from me. “And there’s a reason you don’t let anybody get to know you.”
“You know me.” I flashed her a smile.
“Dirty flirt.”
And so she began another round of flipping through the only five channels this ancient TV set got through its antenna. I wished I could afford a few streaming services for her. The next channel showed crowds of drunk people huddled together in Times Square as an artist I hadn’t heard of performed for the viewers at home. I couldn’t imagine being in a crowd like that—the dirty looks I’d get for blocking people’s views, the subtle pulling away of children, like I was a sewer troll sent up to disrupt their good time. But more likely than not,ifI was in a crowd like that, I’d be hired as security anyway.
That was why I chose to spend the evening here. Most people wouldn’t assume a thirty-year-old single man would choose to spend his last night of the year hanging out with his octogenarian best friend instead of hitting the town. (Not that my small town of Slippery Slopes had a swinging nightlife, but there were two bars, and both would be in high gear until after midnight.)
But those people could get over it.
I didn’t want to be out in the cold, especially not with that winter storm front moving in.
In no version of this evening would Ivy make it until midnight, however, so I would have to head out eventually. After a few more rounds ofChange the Channel, I’d be booted out so the evening staff could start the nighttime routine.
Usually, visitors weren’t allowed to stay this late, but Head Nurse Laura tended to look the other way for me. More than once, I’d helped move some large furniture or shoved a broom into a spider’s web in the ceiling corner. Plus, most people in this place didn’t have many visitors. They weren’t about to kick out one of the few regulars.
“Is it New Year’s Eve?” Ivy asked.
“It is.”
She had already asked me that. Half the time, I couldn’t tell if she just did it to piss me off or mess with me. Her memory was fine, but she just loved playing up her age and being doted on. Mostly, she liked to give me shit whenever there was an opportunity.
“Why are you here hanging around an old lady?” she asked.
“I want to be.”
