“I can call the tow man, Miss Mia, but they’re going to take an awfully long time to get here.”
Ugh.
“How about you just swing around the back of the building, part next to my truck, and I’ll take you on up in the freight elevator,” Mr. B generously offers.
“I knew you’d have a solution. Perfect, here I come.”
Mr. Billy Hayes has probably been on the building support staff of Phoenixville University for over twenty-five years; maybe even longer than that. He knows each building on the campus like the back of his hand and is one of the sweetest men alive. I’m very lucky to work as a sports physical therapist at a university with such down-to-earth faculty and staff who care about each other.
I park my Prius, which I’ve named the green goblin, next to Mr. B’s truck, grab my messenger bag and my cane when he walks over to my car and opens it.
Since I blew out my knee in college, I walk with a limp and sometimes need the help of a cane depending on how I feel that day. Today, I woke up with pain at a level four and so I know I’ll need my walking stick, but what I don’t need are people making it obvious that I need that help. Of course, Mr. B is a seventy-one-year-old grandfather of three who is old-school to his core. There’s no way he isn’t going to hold every door open for me he can to help me inside. I have no choice but to accept his kindness.
“Can I take your bag, Miss Mia?”
Oh, and he addresses everyone with a miss or mister before their name, no matter their age. He says that’s the way people were taught to speak to each other in his generation. It’s just his way.
“Thank you, Mr. B.”
As much as it pains me to hand over my bag to him, I do. I know that protesting would be a moot point. Sometimes you’ve just got to let a gentleman be a gentleman, no matter their age. That’s one gem and jewel my grandmother taught me long before she passed away from ovarian cancer. Grandma’s death was swift and pointless, and I miss her so much; I don’t think my mother will ever recover from her loss either.
“Did you hear the rumors, Miss Mia?”
“No, about who?” I smile.
Mr. B is always a good source for university faculty drama. Apparently, professors sleep around with each other much more than you would think.
“Not who, but what. There’s supposed to be some serious changes coming around here because of the tough economy.”
This isn’t fun news at all.
“Changes for who?”
I hope they aren’t going to lay off Mr. B. He has a wife on dialysis and his daughter plus two of those three grandchildren live with him. The last thing he needs is his steady income taken away.
“Staff cuts. All the professors are worried something awful.”
“The University claims there will be budget cuts every year, Mr. B, but something always comes through,” I assure him.
“Hope you’re right. We’ve been really lucky so far. Other institutions have seen complete programs wiped out.”
“I’m sure there’s some rich Silicon Valley dude who’s itching to give away some money to a worthy university. We’re small but mighty, Mr. B. People have heard of us. A United States House Representative attended here. The money will definitely come.”
I speak the words into existence because I need to. I’m behind on almost every single one of my bills ever since I bought the green goblin. Even though I bought her used, I made the big mistake of buying a car with money I thought was coming via our annual cost-of-living raise. But the raise never happened, and neither did a bonus, and now I’m up to my eyeballs in bills.
“You’re such a breath of fresh air, Miss Mia. I wish more folks were as positive thinking as you. You could give my daughter a lesson or two.”
“I don’t have kids yet though,” I tell him. “Your daughter is dealing with a lot of other things that just aren’t on my radar yet.”
“True. Ain’t gonna lie, my grandkids are a handful.”
Both of us chuckle as we continue my slow trek to the freight elevator. Mr. B takes me to the second floor of the building and escorts me to the physical therapy office that I share with three other therapists.
“I’ll call the tow guy, but you can stay parked next to my truck all day. It’s no problem,” he offers, after handing me my bag.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Have a good day.”
