My belly rumbled in nervousness at the implications of this piece. Seeing it written in black and white made the situation feel more ominous. When I started to second-guess myself, flashes of Ms. Anderson imploring me to help her skirted across my consciousness.
Strange as it seemed, they started to feel like premonitions and not just imaginings of an overactive imagination.
I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the feeling in my gut that told me something was the matter.
I texted Charlotte back to thank her for keeping me updated and then asked what the next steps would be. My mouth gaped open when she instantly came back with the possibility of charges being filed against the nursing home. Though she warned me that was a long way off. First, the state’s health department had to conclude something wrong was going on.
That could take anywhere between months and years. Of course, there was no guarantee they would even declare there was any untoward behavior happening.
Me:In the meantime, more residents could suffer.
I texted back with a heavy heart. Charlotte’s response didn’t lift my spirits when she confirmed that was how things were done. She added that the best we could hope for was that these articles drummed up public interest and outrage, and that would put pressure on the health department to act faster.
That final text extinguished any little bit of hope I had. I knew how most people responded when someone they deemed unimportant or not valuable to them needed help. At best, you could expect to be overlooked. At worst, you were derided and criticized for daring to exist.
I thanked Charlotte again for sending me the article and then tossed my phone on the bed as I stood. Henry whined, and I realized the poor guy needed to go out for his morning bathroom break.
“Sorry, buddy.” I held the kitchen door open for him to do his business while I went to prepare my morning coffee. Due to the band around my chest from my text interaction with Charlotte, I opted to prepare a homemade mocha with extra cocoa powder and sugar to help me feel better.
“Chocolate fixes everything,” I said, holding my mug to my nose and inhaling deeply.
Unfortunately, the heaviness in my heart didn’t subside as I exhaled. Charlotte’s text still haunted me. I knew we couldn’t rely on people to look out for the best interest of those who resided in nursing homes. In many cases, most of their own families didn’t give a shit.
And try as I might, it wasn’t only the residents at Creekview that bothered me. It had been three weeks since my last encounter with Chael. He hadn’t called or texted since the day after he left. Not one word.
I tried to stuff my feelings down and forget about him, but I just couldn’t. Every time I thought back to any of the interactions we’d had, it all felt so … real. So intense, as if there was truly something building between us. It couldn’t have been on just my end, either. Why else would he come out to help me in the middle of the night?
And why the hell would he burst into my bedroom the way he did and eat my pussy like he was starving and she was manna from heaven? I couldn’t figure it out. Or maybe, I was as bad as I thought I was at discerning men and their true feelings.
I had a history of overthinking relationships and letting my imagination get ahead of me when for him, it was just a fling or casual thing.
I ran my hand over the high puff I’d put my hair in to sleep the night before. “I need to redo my hair,” I said to my empty kitchen.
Henry barked from his position behind me, reminding me to fill his food bowl. As I did, I ran through the different styles I could do for my hair.
“What do you think?” I asked Henry.
He ignored me and kept eating.
“Fine, we’ll do wigs this week.” I pushed out a breath. “I don’t have the energy to do braids anyway.”
Henry whimpered as I started for the hallway.
“We’ll go for a walk once I finish my hair. I promise.”
* * *
It took much longerthan I expected to do my hair and get Henry out for his walk. Mostly because I had gone back to sleep even after drinking my mocha. The despair I started to feel at what was happening at Creekview and with Chael tired me out.
Savannah had even called and invited me over to spend the day with her, Parker, and her son, Aiden, at one of his baseball games. While I loved spending time with Savannah and her kids, I opted to stay in the house and watch Disney movies between washing and deep conditioning my hair.
By the time Henry and I made it outside, it was well after six in the evening. Instead of taking the closest walking path that we usually took, I opted to head for the one at the opposite end of our street, which led to a rockier path. It was more secluded, but I felt safe enough walking it even with the sun going down.
As we walked, my mind, once again, drifted back to thoughts about Chael. I hated that he was still such a big part of my conscious thoughts. I’d even had a couple of dreams about him over the past three weeks.
They were silly dreams like laughing with him while we played and kissed in a pool of water or him kissing the scars on my leg.
“Stupid, right?” I asked Henry.
