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“Get your rest, I will see you tomorrow,” Stephen says, with no room for argument. I am not sure when or where I will see him tomorrow, but he says it in such a way that I know I will. He will make sure of it. He kisses me briefly on the lips and then turns and walks back to his car as I shut and lock the door. I stand there and look out the window and watch his car disappear down the street, before my legs give way and I slide down the door, ending up as a puddle of goo on the floor.
***
14
MOLLY
My alarm clock wakes me up this morning, and I feel well rested after having the best night of sleep in weeks. I am not sure whether that is because I am in my own bed and not a hospital chair or because I have a new sense of calm that has made itself comfortable in my body since last night.
I walk barefoot down the hall to the kitchen, and I make a coffee, the aroma lifting my spirits even more. Even though it is early, I call the hospital to check on gran, my anxiety of leaving her there is slowly creeping into my body, and I need an update on her. I am pleased to hear that she is making slow improvements and slept through the night. It is good news, but unfortunately it doesn’t mean that she can come home soon. I hang up and sit on our sofa with my coffee and look around the quiet house that I have called home all my life. It’s colorful, well lived in and worn. It is peaceful, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel lonely. Without gran’s personality shining around the place, it seems dull, sad even.
I’m not due into the office until this afternoon, but I get dressed, then jump on a bus that quickly takes me to the car park near the hospital where I left Essie last night. I then spend the morning driving around doing house calls to check on a few kids in new foster care placements to ensure everything is going well. Talking to the kids and the foster families brings perspective into my life and I constantly remind myself how lucky I am to have gran. Without her, I would have become a foster kid, not for my parents’ lack of love, but for their lack of parenting ability. I know that they love me in their own way, they are just not cut out to be parents.
Lost in my thoughts, I get to work and walk through to my office paying little attention to the flurry of women hanging around in the reception area. I drop off my files, plug in my laptop, and sort through my phone messages.
My office needs a serious clean. It looks like a tornado has been through it, with piles of files and documents stacked up all over the place. I need to have a chat with the administration team to see if someone can lend me a hand to get it all sorted.
I blow out a deep breath, I have so much to do, and I am not sure how I can keep going, trying to do it all. I haven’t heard from Stephen today, and the fact that I am even thinking about it makes me nervous. Not having been involved in such a love match before has me on tenterhooks. Do I call him? Do I wait? They say to wait for three days after your date before you call, so I should wait right? Is this dating anxiety? Am I having dating anxiety right now?
Shaking my head, I breathe out a slow deliberate breath and then I decide to go out to the common room to see what kids are hanging out today, perhaps chatting to them will ease my mind. Maybe they can give me some tips on this dating game if they are not too busy on their social media.
I think I love the common room just as much as the kids do. Like a drop in center, it is a large room where our kids can hang out and meet up in a safe space and chat casually to any one of us youth workers. It is a fun room, filled with pool tables, pinball machines, and a fully stocked kitchen where they can get lunch or a drink when they need it. Mismatched furniture and graffiti art on the walls make it a cool but welcome space. We have a full wall of brochures for the different support services we offer, and a smaller room off to the side which has some computers and tables for study or quiet work for the kids to use as they need.
I walk back past the bevy of female staff members at reception, wondering if they have been standing there this whole time as I walk into the common room. I see a small gathering of kids around one of the long tables, so I decide to make my way over to the group to see what is happening. About ten of our teenagers are gathered around a man in a suit which is a surprising sight.
I stop short when I register the man in the suit is Stephen. Like a deer caught in the headlights, I stand there not sure if I should keep walking toward them, toward him, or if I should make a quiet getaway and run back to my office. But Stephen must sense that I am there because he turns and gives me a big smile as he talks more with the kids which includes Jasmine and a few older boys, Nathan and Rodney.
Before I can decide how to proceed with this unusual situation, Stephen stands and walks over, takes my hand and gives me a kiss on the cheek in greeting. I blush as the kids wolf whistle and clap at the sight of our affection.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, surprised, embarrassed, and a little unsure of what is happening.
“I am on my way to work, and I wanted to come by and see the great work you do here.” I blush at his admission of wanting to learn more about me and the work I do. On the surface, it doesn’t look like the kind of place you would find someone like Stephen wanting to spend his time, but the more I get to know him, the more I understand that deep down he has a soft heart and that is one of his most attractive qualities.
Leading me by the hand, he pulls up another chair, and I join him and the group as we both start talking more with the kids. They are enthralled with Stephen as he talks about the work he does and places he has been. I see the two older boys in particular sit up a little straighter and ask questions about owning a nightclub. Stephen offers to show them around during the day so they can see the behind the scenes of how a club is managed. I learn a lot about him from the conversation too. It both intrigues me and makes me feel inferior given my limited life experiences in comparison to his worldly lifestyle.
I am even more surprised that Jasmine is talkative; it appears that she isn’t scared of Stephen at all after the other night which is positive given the debacle it was. As we are all chatting animatedly, Byron walks into the room. I wasn’t expecting to see him today as he usually only stops to check on the kids on set days and today isn’t one of them.
“Hello, everyone,” Byron calls out, and he gets a few waves and a few grunts from the kids, who are still totally captivated by Stephen.
Feeling bad for the lack of enthusiasm toward him, I stand up to greet Byron. “Hi, Byron, what brings you in today?” I ask, trying to be nice because it is important that the kids feel he is a trusted advisor given that he will be helping them with anything medical related. Plus, he is new to the team of volunteers, having only been here for a few months, so the kids don’t know him too well yet, and I want to set a good example whenever I can.
“Oh, I just had some paperwork to return and thought I would come and say hello to everyone.” He looks past me to the table and at Stephen who has since left the kids and is now standing by my side. Byron has been a little off with me lately. I have kept my distance from him at the hospital because I do not want his advances, and I feel like I may have upset him or hurt his feelings because he is a little short with me now.
“You’re looking much better, Stephen,” Byron comments, his tone not overly friendly, but I shrug it off thinking perhaps he is having a tough day.
“Feeling much better. Thanks, Doc,” Stephen replies as he grabs and holds my hand in his by our sides. I notice Byron's eyes follow the movement, then they flick back to Stephen, and I start to feel uncomfortable about these men who seem to be in some type of standoff against each other. Stephen stands firm, rising to his full height. I can see the women through the window over Byron's shoulder, and I now understand that they have been here all this time watching Stephen with the kids.
I am a tiny figure as I stand near these two men who are now face to face with me in the middle. They are both over 6 feet tall, so I feel like a small mouse in comparison. Breaking the tense moment, Byron addresses me, “Well, good to see everyone, I need to head off. Oh, Molly, I need to have a chat with you at the hospital later about your gran. It appears she has been moved to an alternate doctor, and I am not sure that is the best course of action.”
He eyeballs me with accusing eyes, but before I can say anything, Stephen replies.
“That’s okay, Doc. Dr. Evans is a family friend of mine and is a well-known Pulmonologist so Shirley will be well looked after.”
This is news to me. I knew Stephen arranged a second opinion, but I didn’t know it was from a specialist. It makes me even more grateful to have Stephen involved. I could never have afforded a specialist, and it appears that this new doctor is the ideal match for gran, especially since her last 24 hours have been her best in a few weeks.
Byron gives Stephen a smirk, then turns and walks out of the room without saying goodbye.
The tension that I felt now starts to dissipate, and I blow out a breath, feeling relieved. That was really odd behavior, and not for the first time, I feel uncomfortable around Byron. I look at Stephen, and he turns to face me.
