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“So, Malory had a stroke.”
“No shit.”
“That’s not even the worst. She hit her head when she fell and may need to stay here for a couple of weeks. And when she eventually gets out, she needs a lot of rest. She shouldn’t be stressed, and she’ll also need to come for regular check-ups, as you well know.”
My eyebrows creased in a small frown. “Not really my place, but I gathered the girls live with her, right?”
“Yes.”
“And she lives alone?”
“Yes.” I knew where he was going with the conversation instantly.
“Except she’s moving in with you, together with the girls, I’ll suggest you pull that responsibility away from her. And I’m saying this not just as a doctor colleague but also as a friend.”
I felt a stab of guilt in my heart. It wasn’t what he said but what he didn’t. I’d left Malory with the responsibility of taking care of my girls, which was supposed to be my responsibility.
“Thank you. I know how to fix this.”
- THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM
ZOEY CARTER
Itook out the last batch of the gluten-free bread from the oven and set them beside the cupcakes on the counter to cool. The rich smell of milk and butter permeated the air as I piped a layer of frosting on each cupcake. I felt completely at peace doing the task. Baking always had that effect on me. It was one chore that always brought me peace. I picked up the skill when I was pregnant with baby Jason, and it helped me get through one of the lowest periods of my life. I had an upcoming SAT, and I was pregnant and utterly alone.
“Something smells delicious in here,” Valerie moaned as she padded softly into the room. Despite being sixty-five years old and sick, she still had that cheer that always seemed to accompany her into a room. She had the kindest green eyes and always offered warm smiles. Her eyes crinkled a bit at the corners whenever she smiled. She was very beautiful for a woman her age and was sure to have turned so many heads in her youth.
“Want one?”
“Only if I get a cupcake,” she said, giving me a cute puppy eye.
“Nuh-uh. You have to cut back on sugar, remember?”
“One cupcake will not kill me, you know,”
I pretended to consider it for a while. “Nice try, but no. The cupcakes are for Eddie’s birthday party.”
“You’re no fun. How do you love your client’s grandson more than the client who actually pays you?” She gave a dramatic sigh as she plunked down on a chair.
“You know I love you. It’s why I always research yummy but healthy options for you.”
“If you truly love me, then you’ll let me indulge in sweetness once in a while,” she said, batting her eyelids slyly at me.
I flashed a little smile and grabbed a loaf of bread. I cut down the middle and snatched the jar of peanut butter off the top shelf. Placing the jar and loaf of bread unto a wooden tray, I dropped it on the kitchen table. She smiled and whispered, “Thank you,” with a smile. I continued with my task of putting frosting on the cupcakes. The silence that followed was soothing as I got lost in my own world.
My life was finally looking up after the harsh fates I’d been dealt in the past. A few years ago, if anyone had told me that I’d end up being a caregiver, I would have smacked them silly. But the universe had other plans. Plans that took the shape of an irresistible young man and a one-night stand that led to a baby. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, I lost my old folks in a car crash shortly after. Their savings was barely enough to deal with the funeral expenses and bills, and in the space of a few months, I had to leave school. I was starting to show, and it was embarrassing. I had to sell my parent’s house as I could no longer keep up with the maintenance and huge bills that came with it. So, I moved into a smaller place—a small box on a huge lawn—where I gave birth to my little bundle of joy.
Finally, after a long, arduous year, fate threw me a lucky bone. I applied with an agency that gets people hooked up with caregiving, nannying, and housekeeping jobs. It was a scary move, but I needed something to do. Luckily for me, my first client was Mrs. Crawford, who insisted I call her Valerie. She was warm the first day I came to her and every day ever since. I enjoyed working for her as much as I enjoyed cashing the huge checks I got on paydays.
“So, how’s that handsome man of yours?” Valerie quizzed, crashing my little pondering party. I felt a blush spreading across my face.
“He’s good. We have a dinner date later tonight.”
“Are you giving that man the sugar he very much so deserves?” I cringed at her sexual joke.
“Valerie!” I said in protest.
“What?! If I had a man that good-looking, I’d always stay on his rod. Back when I was young, I was a woman who loved to be satisfied and to explore.”
