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Brenda is the last holdout. I’mthisclose to bringing her over to the dark side.
Although the other day I heard her whisper filthy things to a piece of steak before she bit into it, so perhaps I’m not as close as I think I am.
“Have you heard about George and Nalda?” Vikki asks, and I crane my neck to hear from my spot in the small kitchen. Yeah, I’m a nosy bitch. The drama in this place can be fucking nuts. Who knew old people acted like crazed teenagers? “The two of them are finally together now.”
“No shit,” I mutter to myself, grabbing the cups and bringing them over to the small living area. Each apartment is tiny enough that these folks can move about with minimal effort and with my long legs, I can usually move from the kitchen to the bedroom in less than six strides. The furniture is sparse too. There’s just enough to keep them happy but not too much that it becomes a tripping hazard.
As I pass the mugs out, I warn, “Don’t burn your tongues, okay? I didn’t make it that hot, but…dammit, Brenda, why are you gulping it like that? What did I just say?”
She smiles at me saucily. That little minx, always causing trouble, giving me heart attacks and shit. When you’re that old, you don’t heal as well. For fuck’s sake, yesterday, she told me she wanted a tattoo. I’d about keeled over from the shock of it. I’d told her absolutely not, there’s a high risk of infection.
She’d just rolled her eyes. She doesn’t take me seriously at all. If she sneaks out and does something wild like that, I may have to resort to extreme measures. I don’t know what that would look like yet, but Iwillfigure it out. It will have to be enough to deter her, but not actually hurt her. She’s getting a tattoo over my dead body.
“Well, good for those two. You’re never too old for love,” Martha says, ignoring my little rant about safety risks.
“Or to get it on,” Vikki adds, blowing into her mug and then sipping at it.
I shudder a little imagining two old wrinkly people fucking as I kick my feet up and eye my phone. I gotta make sure to rinse Brenda’s hair in a few. It will take her a hot minute to hobble over to the bathroom too. She moves slower than molasses.
Three months ago, I caved and bought a portable salon chair to use in their bathrooms so they don’t hurt their backs when I rinse the dye out. Yeah, yeah, there’s a salon in this place, but I do it better, and I give them the wild colors they’ve all been fawning over.
Tattoos are a no-go, but I’ll keep making their hair bright and colorful if they want.
“And did you hear about how Fred tried to hide that prostitute under his bed last week? They’re talking about kicking him out now,” Martha says.
“Serves him right,” Vikki replies. “He should have never shoved that poor lady under there. Treat her with a little respect. At least offer her the closet or the pantry.”
I eye the two of them and Martha pats me on the knee. “Enough about them. What have you been up to today, love?”
“Just total world domination,” I snark and then nudge Brenda a little. “I hung out with this lady here for a bit. Took her to breakfast. I tried texting you two, but neither of you answered your phones and you didn’t answer your doors either.”
“We were busy,” Martha says, and I raise an eyebrow at them.
“Doing what?”
“I was sewing those pajamas for you and Vikki was listening to that audiobook you gave her.”
I swell with happiness that Vikki is actually using the subscription I got her. She was an avid reader up until recently when her eyesight started to go. And of course, as soon as I’d heard, I came to the rescue. I talked with her daughter and got her a simple cell phone with one app on it.
It took her a while to get the hang of it, but now she has her headphones in most days, listening to the books I’ve downloaded for her. And let me tell you, they are naughty books. I wholeheartedly approve.
I glance down at my phone. “Alright, Brenda, it’s time to rinse.”
I stand and help Brenda up from the couch, guiding her to the bathroom and into the salon chair.
“You’re going to love this,” I say as I gently lean her back and rinse the color from her hair.
As I’m watching the water turn from clear to red, Brenda’s eyes close and she falls asleep for a bit. She’s been falling asleep more often, recently. I don’t know what that means, but it makes me fucking nervous. I did all the Googling on it and it seems like it’s normal, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to get her in to see a doctor soon.
I condition her hair, then rinse it once more, and as I’m massaging the towel over her head, I say, “Alright, lady. Time to wakey, wakey.”
She snorts awake with a jolt and blinks up at me.
“You woke me from agreatdream.”
“Do not tell me this dream, Bren. My brain can’t handle it.”
She grins at me, and I roll my eyes. Let me tell you, I don’t embarrass easily, but shit, the things Brenda spewed last week after she’d woken from a nap. I admit I was slightly disgusted, but also intrigued. I do not know the shenanigans Brenda got up to in her past life, but fuck, she seems like she was a force to be reckoned with.
