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Still, as hard as I try, they haunt me.
???
Between the meetings, shopping, and cleaning, the next three days go by fast.
I help Aunt Willa into the house.
“You’re doing great.” I walk with my arm looped into hers.
“This cane helps. I’m glad I don’t need that damn walker anymore,” she says as we get to the sofa. “I told Todd, my physical therapist, I wasn’t going home with a walker, so he’d better do whatever it takes to get me off that thing. Little did I know, he wasn’t the one who would have to do all the work.” She laughs.
It feels good to hear her laughter and to have her home.
“Yeah, people have a difficult time using a walker. They see it as a sign of getting old, but you had hip surgery, so you needed it.” I help lower her onto the sofa.
“I’m fifty-nine. I’m not old.” She huffs, adjusting herself on the cushion.
“I know, and you’re going to be around for another fifty.”
She rests back and looks up at me. “How are you doing?” She pauses. “Are you all settled in? You must be happy to be home as well.”
“Yeah, the meetings are going good.”
“Oh, those.” She swats her hand in the air. “I’ll take over next week’s.”
“I can do it if you—”
“Tsk!!” She waves her hand again. “I can sit my ass in a chair just fine.”
“Okay.” I smile, aware that keeping my aunt down will be difficult now that she’s home. “But remember what your doctor said. Don’t overdo it.”
“That’s why you’re here. I need you for the escort service for at least four more weeks.”
“I’ve got it. But I haven’t gotten a call in a couple of weeks.”
“No calls are good, but I’m sure you’ll get at least one before your time is up. How are the Daxon brothers?”
“You were right. They’re some good people.”
“I know how to call it. Oh, and Cassie. She and Brett are doing good?”
“I met her. Yes, they’re still an item.”
“Oh.” She claps her hands. “I’m so happy for Brett. I never thought he’d let his guard down long enough to find love. He’s kind of like you in that sense.”
I shoot her a warning glance.
“Okay, I won’t go there. Can you get me some water? I need to take my pills.”
“Sure.” I get her a glass of water and hand it to her.
“Any thoughts on what you’re going to do? Have you checked out any jobs?”
I sit down. “No. It’s been a crazy few weeks. I thought I’d volunteer a few hours at the center answering hotline calls and take it from there. I want to be here for you. At least until you’re up and moving around.” I lean in. “And able to drive.”
“That sounds good, but you’re staying? You don’t have plans to go back to Texas?” Her eyebrows rise, hanging high on my answer.
“I’m not making any decisions about anything yet.”
