A Home From Nothing

Chapter 6

The commercial on the tv ends drawing my attention back to the report being given. A photo flashes across the screen. One second I’m happily enjoying my life, and my favorite coffee, and the next second said coffee is all over the hardwood floor and my pants. I can feel the color leaving my face and I’m so in shock I don’t even register the burning on my legs. At least not at first.

“Ouch!! Son of a b***h! Holy mother of f**k that hurts!!” I scream all kinds of derogatory words and phrases while yanking my shoes off and then ripping my pants down my legs, the soft fabric holding the scalding liquid hostage against my skin

“Congrats. You’re the first woman to be naked in our living room.” Graham laughs at me, while heading to the bathroom. He comes back a moment later with a towel and hands it to me, a look of concern shining in his eyes. “You ok? What happened?”

“No, I’m not okay! I dropped my coffee and it scalded my legs—lava would’ve been kinder. My legs are now painfully, spiritually awake.” I half shout at him.

Graham looked at me with his eyes steady and his face patient. I know that look. He’s used that look since the day we met. It always makes me squirm until I tell him what he wants to know. Domino however, is laughing at me standing in his living room in my underwear. Splatters of coffee looking like a bad spray tan down my legs.

I get dried as best as I can and then take my pants to the bathroom to use their blow dryer to try to dry them at least a bit. Welp, guess I’ll smell like cinnamon and coffee all day. There are worse things to smell like I suppose. I take a moment in the bathroom. I didn’t hear much of the news report but I heard the word “murder” in there somewhere.

I slide my pants back on and walk back into the living room. Domino was cleaning up the floor when I walked back in, thankfully there wasn't a lot there to clean up, most of it having ended up on me. I reached for my mail and he stopped me with a soft look and his hand on my shoulder.

”What was that Lia? You looked scared for a minute.” Dom's hand slides down to my hand and holds it. With my emotions in turmoil already, the sweet gesture almost brought tears to my eyes.

”I don’t really have time to explain everything right now, I’m already late for work. I'll come back by on my way home and tell you everything.” I promise him as I grab my purse and head towards the door.

“Thanks for the coffee Graham, I’ll be smelling it all day.” I say with a smile as I walk over to him and give him a quick side hug before rushing out the door and making my way back out of the building and towards the group of people at the crosswalk. I stay at the back of the crowd as we make our way to the other side.

I’m standing outside a single story, huge brick building. A nursing facility to be exact. Just your average run of the mill Wrinkle Ranch. I love my job, I love my residents and some of my coworkers are tolerable. All in all, I think I made a pretty good choice for my career. Hopefully, I get to keep said career considering how late I am today. 7:15 am and I was supposed to be here at 7. Night shift is going to hate me! I run inside and head to a wall monitor to get clocked in before running to the nurses desk to find who I need to get report from.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I managed to spill coffee all over myself on the way here.” I say walking up to the woman standing at the nurses desk. Torrin, looking like she would rather strangle me than listen to my excuses, hands me her roll of bags and turns to head down the hall she’s passing off to me.

“Nothing crazy to report. Everyone’s up and ready for breakfast, Room 37 has company already and our friend in 33 needs a bath. Apparently they didn’t get to it yesterday. Now I’m going home since I have to be back tonight.” She says with a scowl on her face.

“I'm so sorry I’m late. I really didn’t mean to.” I apologize again but it falls on deaf ears as she walks away.

Now that report is done, I head to the break room to put my things in my locker and then head back to the floor. As I walk into room 33 to see about getting the shower started, I see the news and that same photo on the tv.

Every room is set up the same here. One bed, one night stand, one chest of drawers, a reclining chair, a wardrobe and a tv on each side of the room and there’s usually two residents per room, except this room. This room is a single room with all the same amenities as the rest but without a roommate. This is the room we usually put the hospice patients who are close to being read their final rights.

That is the case for its current occupant. She’s a very frail woman in her 80s with severe renal failure and is contracted almost completely into the fetal position.

I walk in and check her bedding, making sure there’s no immediate need to change them before sitting in the recliner and turning up the television. Listening to the story of the murder/suicide that took them, I don’t know how to feel or what to think. I scarcely register when Jenny the day nurse comes in to give the resident her medication.

“Hey, you don’t look too good. Are you sick or something?” The nurse asks, looking slightly annoyed. She follows my gaze just as a picture flashes on the screen again and this time it's the one from just a few months before I left when dad got another raise and mom wanted to have professional photos to show other people how well we were doing. She even coordinated matching clothes for us.