Page 4 of Rough

“You sure as fuck did. He said an hour, you said a minute. One of you is full of shit.”

I’d hired her because she was supposed to be caring and capable. Now, however, she was the woman who had abused my father, and that was all.

She lowered her head for a few seconds, and then looked up. “Listen, I’m not going to stand here and let you talk to me like I’m some--”

“Like you’re some what?” I folded my arms in front of my chest and let out a breath. “An incompetent bitch?”

Her face contorted. “I can’t believe you just called me a bitch.”

“I can’t believe you let him lay on the floor for a fuckin’ hour,” I snapped back. “You’re fired.”

She’d been my father’s caregiver for two weeks, and I had nothing but complaints from him since day one. Her failure to tend to his needs had been a topic of discussion since she’d arrived, and leaving him on the floor beside his wheelchair for an hour was the final straw.

“Good luck getting someone to watch that old prick,” she snarled as she turned away. “He’s a fucking asshole. All he does is cuss and bitch.”

“If you weren’t a woman, I’d beat--”

She spun around. “And if you didn’t owe me a week’s wages, I’d kick your big dumb ass in the nuts.”

I grabbed my wallet, pulled out $1,500, and tossed it into the air. “Beat feet, bitch.”

As the bills fluttered over the edge of the porch, she scrambled to pick them up before they blew away.

I turned toward the door, yanked it open, and stomped inside.

My father lowered his Kindle and looked up. With one arm in a sling, the other in a cast, and one of his legs fixed straight with a knee brace, he looked like sheer hell.

“You send her ass down the highway?” he asked.

I sat down on the couch beside him. “Sure did.”

He shook his head and then started reading again. “She couldn’t cook a piece of bacon to save her fuckin’ soul. And, all she did was yack on her phone. Facebook, Twitter. Boyfriends.”

His lack of mobility hadn’t affected his attentive nature, that was for sure. I looked him over. On the surface, he seemed as healthy as he’d always been, but I realized he wasn’t. The fact that I had no one to watch him began to sink in. Although I knew I’d made the right decision in firing his nurse, I began to fill with worry.

“She said it was nothing but a minute while she answered a phone call. I got sick of listening to her lying ass.”

He didn’t bother looking up.

“You sure you’re alright?” I asked.

He reached for his 32-ounce tumbler of water, lifted it to his mouth with a shaking hand, and took a long drink.

“Alright? I’ve got a broken wrist, blown-out knee, broken ankle, and a dislocated shoulder. I can’t stand, I can’t fuckin’ walk, I can barely sit, and I’ve got to have someone else wipe my fuckin’ ass. Hell, I can barely hold up this fuckin’ Kindle without collapsing from the pain, but I’m doing it because this book is too god damned good to stop reading.” He let out a light laugh. “I’ve been better, Son.”

He may have been in bad physical shape, but his attitude hadn’t been damaged one bit.

“I meant from laying on the floor for an hour,” I said. “Nothing else is bothering you, is it?”

“Now that she’s gone?” He set the water aside and reached for his Kindle. “Nope.”

“I’ll stay here ‘till mom gets off, but I’m gonna have to find someone else to take over.”

“Well, I didn’t think you were going to be my new nurse.” He cleared his throat, but kept his eyes fixed on his Kindle. “Instead of getting another off that fuckin’ Craigslist, why don’t you call one of those placement services? They send out a nurse, and if I don’t like her, you can just send her back and get another.”

I’d investigated a few such professional services, but the cost was twice what I’d been paying. The only other choice was to send him to a nursing home, and that wasn’t an option.

“I’ll look into it.”