The way he whipped out his wallet, producing two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills made me push him off the bed in one swift movement.
“You planned this.”
“I’ve got a feeling about you two.”
“Don’t talk about feelings while you’re in my bedroom.”
He made himself too comfortable once again on my bed, arms folded behind his head. “You sure caved fast.”
“Don’t misread my interest. I’ll go on one date with her, and then I’ll be getting a wad of cash from you in return. End of interaction. And then you’re going to stay out of my life.” I fixed him with my fiercest stare.
And like a cat who just ensnared the fat, stupid mouse, Jake smiled.
6
Tessa
“Okay, Betsy, lift that leg.” I held onto her frail elbow while she grumbled at me. Her wrinkled and manicured hand held onto the living room wall and a dining room chair to balance as she attempted to do what I had asked. Her foot barely left the ground.
“Betsy,” I asked. “Have you been doing the exercises I gave you over the weekend?”
Silence.
“Betsy.” My voice came out in a warning tone.
“I didn’t have the time.”
The beloved 87-year-old firecracker resident lifted her haughty chin and stared out her window, willfully ignoring me. Her white hair was washed, curled, preened, and perfumed. And her thin red lips pressed together in a pout. Her big eyes, magnified by a thick set of lenses, were narrowed.
“Betsy, we’ve got to get your leg stronger, and we can’t do that if you don’t work with me.”
Nothing.
I ground my teeth as I tried for another angle. “Betsy, Nate is going to come check on you in a few weeks. Don’t you want to show him how much you’ve improved since your fall?”
She huffed. “Nate would never yell at me.”
“I’m sorry, Betsy. Let’s try again. I didn’t mean to yell.” I hadn’t even raised my voice, but no sense getting the woman fired up. My eyes flicked to the clock again before I yanked them back. “Can you do a couple more lifts for me? Then, we’ll take a break.”
The woman still ignored me. I glanced at her clock on the wall. I had only been here fifteen minutes and had another forty-five to fill. What does one do with a willfully disobedient elderly lady? I was strongly beginning to suspect that Nate passed Betsy May off to me on purpose. Since he moved back to Eugene a couple of weeks ago, he had begun an in-home patient care service until the new building was up and running. Word of a physical therapist in town spread like wildfire, and Nate began pushing a few of his patients onto me. So far, Betsy had been much more interested in chatting and had done few to none of the exercises I left for her.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know me. She had lived down the road from my family my entire life. Most of the time, she was an eccentrically sweet old lady who occasionally ran into things with her car.
“Come on, Betsy. Bill Rogers will probably be at the Fourth of July Festival in a few weeks. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Don’t you want to get better for him?” Old Bill had to have been pushing ninety, but he still looked handsome as ever in his polyester track suit and a full head of silky white hair.
She didn’t move. Dang, I could have sworn I saw the two of them canoodling in her car the other day.
“I think you two would make really cute babies,” I prodded.
A smile broke out across her face as she finally glared over at me. “I liked you much better when you were the snot-nosed girl with the wild hair, snatching peaches off of my tree.”
“That could be arranged. Your tree grows the best peaches in all of Eugene.”
I sent Nate a text after I left Betsy May’s to head home and start working in the orchard.
Me: Betsy May was a delight to work with. She always did what she was told and didn’t ever complain or get mad at all.
Nate: Bring her cookies next time.
