Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Then her words penetrated and I blinked. “How did you know my last name?” We didn’t give out our last names. Even our name badges had our first name only.
“I pay attention to details. Something few people do these days.” She snorted. “It’s a wonder these kids don’t get hit by a bus the way they keep their phones in front of their faces.”
I smothered my grin. “Can I get you anything? Some water or tea, perhaps?”
“Sit with me a moment.” It wasn’t a request. She patted the chair beside her. “Tell me, how long have you been working here now? Six months?”
“Almost, yes.” I perched on the edge of my seat, my fingers laced together primly.
“And you work Tuesdays through Saturdays, typically the morning shift, though occasionally they have you cover nights when someone calls in sick.” She stated this as fact, not a question.
“That’s right.” I smiled, the warm late afternoon sunlight highlighting a few golden threads of hair woven among her mostly silver bob, a throwback to her younger days. “You’ve been keeping track?”
She waved a dismissive hand, the tremor more pronounced with the movement. “Simple observation. Tell me, what’s the protocol when a resident wants to leave the premises? My son mentioned taking me to lunch next week.”
“Not much to it. This is an assisted-living facility. You’re free to come and go as you please.” I smiled gently at her. “The only thing you might want to consider is that you might need to take your night medication with you if you plan on being away overnight.”
“And the security cameras,” she continued, her tone casual though her eyes remained intent. “They cover all the exits, I presume? Even the service entrance by the kitchen?”
“I… I’m not sure about all the security details,” I said honestly. “That’s more administration territory.”
“Of course.” She nodded, as if I’d confirmed something. “One more thing. Which staff members have access to the medication room after hours? Is it just the night nurse or do others have key cards?”
The question set off warning bells. “Mrs. Walsh, is everything okay? Are you concerned about something?”
“Just an old woman’s curiosity.” Her face softened into a gentle, confused expression that didn’t match the sharpness I’d seen moments before. “At my age, one develops odd concerns. You’ll humor me, won’t you?”
I smiled uncomfortably. “Of course. But maybe these questions would be better directed to Dr. Janeway during your next check-up? Especially if you have medication concerns.”
“Perhaps.” She reached out and patted my hand, her fingers cool against my skin. “You’re a good girl, River. Not like some of the others here who can barely be bothered to learn our names,” she said as I handed her the mug of black coffee I’d brought for her. “One more thing, dear.” She took the mug from me. Instead of the slight tremor, now her hands were steady.
“Yes?”
“Why are you thinking about moving on? Do you have family somewhere away from here?”
That got my attention. “I haven’t said anything to anyone, Mrs. Walsh. How do you know that?” I had been thinking it was time to move on. I’d stayed here longer than I had anywhere since I’d been on my own.
She raised an eyebrow. “I told you. I pay attention. Besides, old habits, dear.” Her smile turned secretive. “In my former profession, information was currency. Some skills never fade, even when the hands that employ them do.”
I held her gaze for long moments, confused while she looked at me expectantly, waiting for more of an explanation. “I spent my childhood being bounced around from one foster home to another,” I said. I had no idea why I was telling her my story. “Some people crave stability after that. For me it’s the opposite. I get antsy, feeling like I need to move and start fresh.”
She beamed at me, as if proud that I’d confided in her. “Very good, dear. Very good.”
“I’ll check back in a few minutes. If you decide you want to join crafts today, let me know. I’ll keep you company.” I felt her gaze on me as I left. The CIA story suddenly seemed less like a fantasy and more like a warning. At least, in the fanciful part of my mind. Because, I mean, who doesn’t like a good conspiracy theory?
Once we had everyone bathed and settled for the night, evening shifts at Evergreen were a different world. Soft amber lighting and hushed conversations filled the halls instead of the daytime bustle. This high-end nursing facility radiated the luxury and comfort of a resort, far from the cold, clinical vibe of a typical nursing home. I wasn’t scheduled for nights this week, but when Donna had called begging for coverage, my bank account overruled my desire for sleep. Besides, the night shift had its perks. No administrators hovering and few, if any, visitors. Occasionally, a resident’s family stayed late or even slept over when their loved one was ill, but most of the time, darkness brought its own peculiar intimacy to caregiving.