When the call ended, I turned back to the stove and watched the oatmeal as it bubbled. I didn’t know what to do first. I felt like I was failing my father by not having an emergency plan in place for him. But plan or no plan, I had to get him out of Parker Jewish asap. I felt a presence behind me and glanced down tosee Enzo’s tattooed hand reach around me to turn off the eye on the stove.
“What’s going on with your pops?” he asked calmly, moving on the side of me.
“That was one of the nursing assistants. She said that he’s regressing and suggested that I move him asap. These mothafuckas charge his insurance all this money, and there’s no adequate rehabilitation being done. I was working on a plan to set him up at home, but I need more time.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “After that call, it’s clear that time is not on my side. I need to get him outta there.”
The tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. Crying in front of a stranger was foreign to me. I usually held my composure so well, but this was tough.
Enzo didn’t hesitate to respond. “Let’s go get him then. Let me make a call.”
I barely had time to react before he pulled out his phone and stepped away. I could hear him talking. His voice was low, controlled, and boss like.
“Hey, Aunty Fawn. I need a favor… I need a bed at Sullivan Manor… any openings? Yeah, I know about the wait list, but your nephew needs this.”He glanced over at me, and I attempted to wipe the tears that refused to stop.“It’s an emergency. You can bill me later… Aight, cool. I’m gonna give the phone to someone, and they’re gonna give you the information.”
He walked back over with his phone held out to me. “Here, this is my Aunt Fawn. She owns a private rehab facility. Give her your dad’s info, and she’ll handle everything on her end.”
I stared down at the phone then back at him. “It’s straight. Trust me.”
“Hello?”
“Hi, my name is Fawn Sullivan. Who am I speaking to?”
“Thyri Anderson.”
“Okay, baby. And what’s the name of the patient?”
“My father’s name is Derrick Anderson. His birthday is 11/27/19…”
“1964.”She finished my sentence.“Ummm.”Her breathing sounded a little labored.
“Hello? You okay?”I asked, and Enzo’s brow shot up.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Is your father Poppa D?”
“Yeah. That’s his nickname,”I said, wiping at my eyes again.“You know him?”
“I could never forget my first love. Please give Enzo all your father’s information, including the rehab he’s in, so I can call over and arrange transportation. They’ll need you to sign him out. It’s gonna be AMA. That means against medical advice. But don’t worry about that. We’re gonna make sure he gets all the care he needs here at Sullivan Manor. Jesus, I can’t believe this.”
If she thought she was surprised, imagine mine hearing her mention my father being her first love. I had questions, but they weren’t important right now.
“Okay. Thank you so much for this. I’m actually gonna head to the facility now.”
“Great. And you’re very welcome, love.”
I handed Enzo back his phone, while I went to gather my things.
“Alright, Aunty. Good looking out.”
“Thank you for calling in that favor,” I said, walking back over to him. “I’m texting my father’s information over to you now. I’m gonna repay you. Just let me know the cost.”
“Consider it a Christmas bonus that you can’t decline.”
“Enzo, I can’t.”
“It’s already done. Hit me once you get things situated, aight? If you need anything before then, hit me.”
Without warning, I hugged him. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other rubbed my back. “Y’all in good hands. We Sullivans take good care of people.”
I let him hold me for a little bit longer, appreciating the safety of his embrace. Exhaling, I pulled away. “Thank you.”
