I did see that he has his own insurance, which is rare with people his age. Not that I’m much older. I’m only twenty-nine. Most will stay on their parents’ insurance until twenty-six, though. There are options as far as payments, but that isn’t any of my business. Another reason I should step back from being a part of his clinical team.
“If you feel like you want some quiet after working, just let me know. My apartment isn’t too far from the shop and hospital. I can give you the address.”
“I’ll let you know,” Tyler says. “I think right now, I’m going to go eat and then call it an early night. Thank you, again, for everything today.”
Chapter Three
Tryingtocarryonwith life as normal with an uncommon diagnosis that can cause fluctuations at random is a bit jarring. Even trying to explain it is a mouthful.
Yesterday, I spent the day going easy. Mom made me breakfast along with my brother. Everything had salt on it. She said that was one thing she looked up that was good for me. I don’t know if just sprinkling salt over everything is the right way, but I made sure to wash it all down with plenty of water.
Andy didn’t say much outside of asking how I’m feeling. It’s vastly different from Monday morning. I prefer the attention to be on Andy. At least until I can figure out exactly what I need to do to manage this. Having Mom throw everything she reads into one day of ‘helping’ me isn’t actually helping me. I’ve been over the papers again and again. The handout doesn’t covereverything, but there are links included to read more. There's a lot of medical jargon on those sites that I don’t understand, though.
Wednesday is calmer. Mom has to run errands so I have the house to myself for a couple of hours. I sit in the living room, laying on the couch, and watch TV until Dad gets home. Andy has practice again and then planned to go to someone’s house.
Thursday, I go back to work as planned. Mom offers to drive me and I almost take her up on it but then remember that I might go to Brandt’s after. If he’s still okay with it. Just for an hour or so, maybe.
Everyone at work continues to check up on me. I appreciate it, but I’m also feeling more… normal than I have in months. I know it’s most likely just wishful thinking than the medication being a miracle cure, but I smile and laugh with the customers, and I’m keeping up with the lunch rush. I do feel good.
Austin has all of us on the schedule that works for us. I’m on five days a week, from eight in the morning to five in the afternoon. I get an hour lunch, but can choose to do thirty if we want to come in late or leave early once a week. He has that rule for everyone. Orion comes in a half hour before me to set up all the coffee stuff and leaves at four-thirty. Daniella comes in at seven-thirty as well to get the food side ready. We’ve expanded the coffee shop in the last two months. Austin has hinted at it, but hasn’t said outright that a lot of money was going missing in the profits. It wasn’t being put back into the business. Not illegal, per se, but he’s using it a little more wisely to keep up with our needs. He’s talking about adding a salad bar for the lunch rush, but that would require some actual construction and electrical work.
When we close the doors at four, I’m not dead on my feet like usual. I grab the checklist and start on my portion of the closingchores. My phone buzzes with an incoming text but I don’t pull it out until I finish the dishes.
It’s from Brandt. I texted him earlier, asking if he was still okay if I came over for a bit. I know that I just ended things with Mark a couple of days ago, but this isn’t anything more than hanging out. A person that understands what I’m going through. I guess the good news was that with everything going on, I haven’t really thought about Mark and the fact that we broke up.
But now I’m thinking about it by not thinking about it.
“You okay?” Austin is right there next to me. I look up to see the concern on his face. Orion is next to him the next second. “You just stopped walking.”
“Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about Sunday.” I look to make sure Daniella isn’t within ear shot. “With everything going on, I haven’t had time to think about the whole break up.”
“How do you feel about that?” Orion asks. “Gare said Rachel spoke to Mark and he’s sad, said he really liked hanging out with you.”
“I liked him too. Still do, I guess.” I shrug and look between the two of them. “It was mutual, though, and I understand it. Now that I have an actual diagnosis, I understand it more. He wants a Little that can be more outdoorsy and active. Right now, that’s just not me.”
“You’ll find someone,” Austin says optimistically. He’s thirty-one now, but when he’s in his Little space you wouldn’t know it. Even in his everyday life, he has a youthfulness to him. Orion is closer in age to me, only three years older. We just celebrated his birthday last month. “Did you want to go back to the club this weekend with us?”
“Probably not,” I say. “I’m supposed to be looking at another apartment this weekend.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know you were looking.”
“I wasn’t, really. But I got bored yesterday at home and scheduled an appointment to see two units.” I shrug and unlock my phone. Brandt texted me ten minutes ago with his address and that he’s making dinner.
We end the conversation there and finish up the closing chores. Orion and Daniella leave at their usual time and I grab the mop bucket to start on the floors.
Austin is waiting for me to finish up and we walk outside together. The weather is hot, being the middle of July. I take a drink from my water bottle as we walk. We make small talk about our weekend plans. Austin is going to the club with Remi and Luke and Rachel. I know if I wanted to join, between the two of them I’d be taken care of. I’m just not feeling all that social this week.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Austin says when he reaches his car. I wave back at him and walk to mine. It’s small, nothing fancy. I send Brandt a text that I’m on my way.
The apartment building is nice. It isn’t overly big, only a handful of floors. There are stairs to the side and an elevator in the middle. He’s on the second floor so I opt for the elevator. I’m still a little weary of getting my heartrate up or understanding what exactly constitutes ‘stress’ on my body. I’m already nervous enough to come here.
Brandt opens the door with a smile. He’s wearing a pair of shorts with a plain colored shirt. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it all day. He’s wearing a pair of black rimmed glasses which somehow makes his blue eyes pop more. I haven’t seen him wear them before. They look good.
“Come on in,” Brandt says, stepping to the side. The apartment is a mix of smells, cleaning products and food. “Do you like spicy food?”
“Depends on the spice level,” I say as I step inside. “Mild is good, but anything more and I’m probably going to pass.”
“Mild is about it,” he says. “I’m making quesadillas and I have a sauce that I’m making. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”
